The Game Changer: A Novel (31 page)

“No. Smartass.” I took a deep breath before finishing my thought. “It’s that I’m supposed to stay quiet. While people post all these things and say whatever they want about me and Jack, I’m not supposed to defend myself. And I hate the way that feels because I feel like I’m being bullied in a way, you know?”

“You are kind of being bullied,” she agreed, setting everything on the table before plopping two pieces of bread into the toaster.

“So I feel like by keeping my mouth shut, I’m telling all these people that it’s OK to do the things they’re doing. Like my silence condones their behavior. It doesn’t feel right to keep quiet. It should be OK for me to stand up for myself.” I poured cereal into my bowl until it overflowed onto the table. I picked up the scattered pieces and popped them into my mouth.

“That’s why people in your situation normally have a PR person, or a publicist, or a lawyer on their side. Those people speak out on your behalf. Which brings me to something I want to talk to you about anyway.”

“What?”

“As your personal publicist, it’s my job to—”

I laughed, mocking her tone. “As my personal publicist?”

Her lips narrowed, her eyes squinting. “Give me a break, Cass. If you ever hired someone else to handle your PR, I’d disown you. And so would my mom. I can handle this for you.”

Melissa worked at her mom’s publicity firm in the summers and would join the staff full time as soon as she had her degree in hand. I asked Melissa when we were still in high school why she bothered applying to colleges when she could learn everything she needed to by working with her mom directly. But Meli’s mom insisted she have the college experience and wouldn’t let her start working at seventeen. I remembered her saying, “You have the rest of your life to work, Melissa. Don’t be in such a hurry to get it started. Go live. Have fun. Enjoy college and everything that comes with it.”

I leaned my elbows on the table. “Go on.”

“Well, I was thinking,” she started.

“Always dangerous,” I interrupted.

“Stop interrupting me! This is serious, Cass! I’m trying to help you!” she shouted, her annoyance clearly growing.

I puckered my lips, stifling a chuckle, “I’m sorry. Go on. I won’t say anything.” I marked an
X
across my chest with my finger.

She breathed out. “OK. So I was thought about this all night and I think it’s brilliant! You and Jack should do some sort of interview together. Like a human-interest story on what it’s like being a professional athlete and for you, what it’s like dating one. And you can address all the Chrystle accusations and lies, as well.”

“Meli, people who lose their house in a flood, or an entire community wiped out by some freak super storm… that’s a human-interest story. Not the girl whining about how hard it is to date an athlete and how mean people are. They’ll only hate me more.”

“Not if it’s done right.” Her bright blue eyes looked into mine, her eyebrows raised.

I shook my head wildly. “We’re not a human-interest story.”

“But you are. Those tabloids wouldn’t sell if people weren’t interested. And trust me, they’re interested.”

My chest tightened. “You think people would care about our side of the story?”

“Hell yes, they’d care! But the story will have two purposes. The first will be to put that little lying bitch in her place. And the second will be your public image.”

“My public image?” I tried to follow, but I was confused.

“If people see you as a real person, with problems just like they have, then maybe they’ll stop being so mean. If they hear about all the things you and Jack have gone through as a couple, they’ll sympathize with you instead of hate you. You won’t be someone who’s unattainable and only seen from a distance. You’ll be relatable. It’s hard to hate the girl you’d be friends with if you knew her.” She smiled, quoting my feelings from last night.

“I don’t know if we’re even allowed to do something like that. I’d have to get permission from the team’s publicity department first. And who the hell would even want to run a story like that?”

Melissa rolled her eyes, my question apparently stupid. “Right now? I bet I could get almost anyone to run that story. But you work for a freaking magazine, Cassie! A human-interest magazine,” she reminded me pointedly.

“But those aren’t the types of stories we print.”

“You mean to tell me your magazine doesn’t ever profile anyone local? Don’t you ever do puff type pieces on New York’s elite?”

I pursed my lips together before responding. “Actually they do. But it’s online only and never in the actual printed version.”

A wide grin appeared on Melissa’s face as her hands clapped together. “That’s fine. Online can be just as effective. Think your boss will go for it?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I do, actually. She mentioned something about it before I left. But I need to talk to Jack first.”

“He’s an easy sell. He’ll do anything if it means keeping you happy.”

Cassie

A
fter almost an hour of arguing, I convinced Melissa to drive me over to Gran and Gramps’s house. I still didn’t know why, but she still wanted to keep her distance from Dean, and meeting Gran and Gramps was not part of her master plan.

“Can we stop by the store real quick so I can pick up some wine?”

“Yep. I’ll get some too. I’ll need it,” she suggested, pulling into the supermarket parking lot.

I looked around at how spread out and spacious everything seemed. New York was so compact. I’d forgotten how different Southern California was. And I really missed the palm trees. My heart squeezed as I took in the sight of them.

“You coming?” I asked Meli before shutting the car door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” She typed out a text before throwing her phone into her glove compartment.

After grabbing two bottles of wine and a small flower arrangement, we headed toward the checkout stand. Pictures of Chrystle and Jack’s wedding suddenly appeared in my vision as the tabloid sat in the wire rack, mocking me. My heart pounded, and I couldn’t step forward; my legs trembled forcefully.

And then another sight caught my eye. More pictures of Jack and Chrystle, feeding cake to each other and posing with their bridal party. “Melissa,” I tried to squeak out, but all sounds failed me.

“Oh shit. Cass. Cassie?”

I turned to face her, my body numb and eyes already tearing up. She scooted our items up on the conveyer belt. “We’ll take these, thanks.”

“Can I see some ID?” the clerk asked, and Melissa thankfully pulled her license from her wallet.

I stared at the newer, more mainstream magazine in horror. Chrystle had sold her story to not only one magazine, but two. What else had she done? “Do you want to grab that?” Melissa asked through my shock.

I managed to shake my head when the clerk said, “Do you know him? Jack Carter? He used to live here, but he plays for the Mets now. Can you believe all the stuff him and his new girlfriend did to that poor girl? It’s crazy. I guess fame makes you do horrible stuff.”

I turned to face her, multiple emotions running through me like a fucking tornado. She gasped as she noticed my face, her mouth twisting into a slight snarl. “Oh my gosh. You’re her! Jack’s girlfriend, Cassie. Right?” Her eyes narrowed with accusation.

I opened my mouth to say God knows what when Melissa rescued me. “What? Cassie lives in New York with Jack. Why the hell would she be here?” She grabbed the receipt, stuffing it in the bag before tugging me by the wrist toward the door.

“Jesus, Cassie.”

I snapped out of my wedding-photo daze. “Sorry.” I apologized, although I wasn’t quite sure what for.

“No.” Meli shook her head. “That was brutal.”

“Welcome to my life.” I extended my hands with a shrug.

My mind raced with thoughts about Chrystle and thoughts about Jack, and how even all the way across the country I couldn’t get away from the media nightmare I now lived in. I wanted to focus on being happy right now, excited to see Gran and Gramps. I let those thoughts take over.

“You’ll love Gran and Gramps, Meli. They’re awesome.” I looked at her, a large fake smile plastered on my face.

“I don’t want to love them,” she responded without even a glance.

“What the hell is wrong with you? After we fix me, we really need to do some work on your dysfunctional ass.”

That garnered a glance. A nasty, wicked one. She pulled her car up to the curb and I hopped out, excited to see the family waiting inside for me. Dean popped his head out from behind the screen door, his eyes meeting mine. I widened mine, and he figured out what I was trying to convey and bolted through the door and to the side of our car.

“I’m glad you came, Melissa.” He smiled at her, grabbing the bag from the store.

“You’ve only been trying to get me here for months.” She turned a pointed glare at me.

What the hell?

“Cassie?” Gran’s voice spilled out from an open window.

“Is the kitten here already?” Gramps voice quickly followed.

I arched my eyebrows at Dean. “
The
kitten?” I asked with a laugh.

“Don’t ask. He started calling you that after you moved. We think it’s funny, so we never correct him.”

Dean opened the door for us, and as I stepped inside my heart immediately filled with love. Nothing had changed since my last
visit, except for the three new black-and-white photographs on the wall.

Melissa pointed at them. “Cass, you took these, right?”

“Yeah,” I answered with a small smile before tossing a quick glance at Dean. I turned my head, noticing one additional new portrait. It was taken the day Jack signed to play for the Diamondbacks. Five people were in the photo, and I was one of them.

“You’re practically family already,” Melissa said as she glanced at the picture.

If a heart could grow in size, mine enlarged on the spot. I’d been more at home here with this family than with the one I was supposed to call my own.

Grabbing the bag from Dean, I started walking toward the kitchen.

“I’ll show you around the house.” Dean grabbed Melissa by the hand, leaving me alone.

Gran and Gramps sat at the table, drinking out of coffee mugs. Gran scooted out of her chair and shuffled toward me, her arms outstretched. “Oh, Cassie. It’s so good to see you. We miss you.” She kissed the side of my cheek and hugged me as tightly as her frail arms could.

“I miss you too. Here, I brought these.” I pulled out the flowers and the wine.

“The kitten is here!” Gramps practically shouted before wrapping his burly arms around me, the smell of tobacco lingering on his clothes.

I breathed him in, the scent reminding me of being here with Jack. “Gramps! I miss you the most. Don’t tell Gran,” I whisper-shouted near his ear.

“I heard that!” Gran yelled out from the sink where she worked on arranging the flowers in a vase.

“Come sit,” Gramps said as he plopped back into his chair.

“Should we open the wine?” Gran asked, still arranging the flowers.

“I’m OK. We brought those bottles for you guys to enjoy with dinner. Save them.” I winked at Gramps, and he grinned.

Gran placed her hand on my shoulder as she passed me to sit down. She sipped from her mug before eyeing me. “So, dear, how is everything?”

My smile faded quicker than I intended. “It’s good. Everything’s good,” I lied, as the realization that being around Jack’s family without Jack was harder than I anticipated. I missed him. And I knew I couldn’t get anything past Gran.

Gran reached out a hand, touching my fingers gently. “We saw that dreadful magazine. Why won’t she just go away?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve wondered the same thing.”

“Jack said you’re having a hard time dealing with it all. Tell us what’s going on.” Gran had a way of making you talk about the things you wanted to avoid.

I looked into Gramps’s tired eyes, the worry lines around them increasing. “He’s right. I’m just having a hard time dealing with all the press and the Internet sites.”

“Why? What do they say?” Gramps asked through his confusion.

“Just a bunch of mean stuff about how I’m not hot enough for Jack. I’m too fat. They take my picture and basically say whatever they want about it. They just make things up. And now with the whole Chrystle thing, I feel like I can’t take it anymore.”

“Cassie, you know how much we love you, right?” Gran asked, and I nodded. “It broke our hearts what Jack did to you. We were so disappointed and sad. But to know that you’ve taken him back after
everything, we can’t tell you how happy that makes us.” She reached out to squeeze Gramps’s hand.

“The press sounds dreadful. Truly awful. And I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like to deal with that on a daily basis. But, dear, one day, all of that will fade away. The press, the Internet, the websites, Chrystle,” she paused, “they will all be things of the past.”

She leaned forward, cupping my face in her hand. “I know you can live your life without all of those things, but can you really live your life without Jack?”

They already knew the answer as I blinked back the tears. “I think I’d be miserable without him.”

“Because you love him,” Gramps called out, joy animating his voice.

“Of course I love him.”

“Then don’t give up. One day you’ll look around and realize that all the things you thought mattered so much, really didn’t matter much at all.” Gran eyed Gramps, the love between them apparent. “What matters the most is who you love. Because when everything else is a distant memory, the people you love are all that’s left. And love is the single most important thing we can do in our lives. Give it. Receive it. Teach others how to do it.”

My eyes filled with tears again. “Love is the most important thing? Above everything else?”

“Absolutely,” Gramps said with a crooked smile. “It’s funny the things you think will last forever when you’re young. I figured I’d work until I died. But even work stops at some point. And you find yourself looking around, taking stock of your life, and you realize that you don’t give a shit about where you worked, or what you did to bring in money, but you care about the lives you touched. The love you shared. The family you created. You care about who is standing beside you when the shit hits the fan.”