She was so close to telling him to shove it.
“John,” she told them.
“Hah. This I want to hear,” Baby said.
Smiling, JJ pressed the speakerphone button. Professionalism be damned.
“JJ. My star reporter! Have you talked to Trevor yet?”
JJ’s jaw literally dropped open. Snapping it shut, she steeled her spine and took a deep, calming breath. In. Out. Do. Not. Scream.
“No. I’ve been busy doing my job.”
She saw Baby smother a snort with her hand. JJ rolled her eyes and shook her head. If she hadn’t lived the last nine months, she wouldn’t believe that any person could be such a roller coaster of sexist pig and seemingly sincere. But lately he’d stopped apologizing after the fact and just stuck his foot in his mouth.
“Interviewing Trevor Wyatt is at the top of your job description.”
“He’s not going to agree to an interview and I’m not asking him.” Besides, wasn’t there some sort of boyfriend/girlfriend code of ethics she’d be crossing? It wasn’t exactly attorney client privilege. Maybe if they got married she could get out of it.
John’s next words knocked the smile right off her lips. “Interview him or start looking for another job.”
Her own shock was mirrored on the faces of her friends. Baby was shaking her head violently and JJ held up a finger, requesting that she stay silent.
“Are you saying you’ll fire me if I don’t interview him?” she spat the words back through the phone lines. Every nerve in her body was at full alert, hot and pissed off.
“Just do the interview, Fairchild.”
He hung up on her.
JJ turned off the screen, held the corner of the phone to her forehead and counted to ten.
Baby spoke first. “He can’t fire you!”
“He’s the boss,” JJ said, knowing that her tone was mocking and unprofessional. But she was among friends. Her best friends. And right now she wanted nothing more than to figure out how to kill him off in her next novel.
“No. I mean he cannot fire you. I highly doubt your contract would allow it. And I could throw all sorts of reasons at the bastard that a woman should not be interviewing her boyfriend. Conflict of interest…” Baby said and went off on a tangent.
JJ settled back into the sofa and reached for her wine glass. She’d definitely be calling a cab tonight. Between her headache, heartache, and the extra glass of wine she was planning on drinking, she was in no condition to drive home.
“I’ll worry about it tomorrow.” She thought about it as she sipped her wine. “You know what; I’m not going to worry about it. I’m done worrying. D-O-N-E, done. He can fire me if he wants to. What’s the point of working so hard with such a jerk for a boss? It’s not like I even enjoy the job anymore. He can stuff it.”
There was a moment’s long pause as the four of them looked at each other. Wow. That had been a long time coming. Ten months or maybe more.
Gretchen giggled. Cindy joined in. And before long, they were all laughing themselves silly.
“You go girl!” Baby said.
“What she said,” Gretchen added.
“How very ‘unsouthern’ of you,” Cindy teased.
Yeah, JJ’s mom probably wouldn’t have approved of that outburst, but when amongst friends, one should let one’s hair down. And say it like it is.
“Wow. That felt good.” JJ smiled. Really good.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Trevor heard what Chastity was saying but couldn’t get past the words “going public.” Attending that New Year’s Eve party had been about giving Julia an experience she’d never forget, not “going public.”
“The advantage is we can get ahead of the story, spin it how we want to—”
“You’re going to spin my relationship?” Trevor all but growled the words. Could this day get any worse? No. He probably shouldn’t wonder that. Doing so was an open invitation for mischief to wreak more havoc on his life.
“We can release the information
you
want to release. Give them enough that they’ll leave you alone.”
He liked that part of the scenario. Was Julia done with girls’ night yet? He needed to call her back and let her know what was going on.
“Brady’s going to hate that idea,” he mused. All the more reason to do it.
“Leave Brady to me. He just likes the single-guy/star-athlete appeal. What he doesn’t realize is that I can sell happily attached, non-womanizing athlete far better. You’d probably increase your female fan club twenty-five percent.”
He hated when people talked about his life in terms of numbers. As much as he’d lived by stats, when public relations gurus and image consultants started describing his fan base by percentages he started to feel like a patty of ground beef. And after everything that had happened with Stephanie, the idea of putting himself back in the cross hairs brought up his defenses.
“I’ll need to talk it over with Julia, this affects her too.” In some ways even more than it affected him. He could just imagine her fellow journalists turning the mike in her direction at the next game.
“Absolutely. Talk it over with her. She’ll understand the importance of us telling the media what we want to and that we need to do it ASAP. And don’t worry about Brady.”
Trevor wasn’t worried about Brady. He rarely gave a shit what his agent thought. He certainly wasn’t going to stress himself out when there were much more important things to be worried about at the moment.
After he hung up with Chastity he decided to give Brady a heads up on things just so he could head off the inevitable questions and calls. Sometimes he wondered if his agent got off on scandals that made his clients more popular. There were very few situations the man couldn’t turn to his clients’ advantage, thanks to Chastity.
“Everything set with Chastity?” Brady asked as soon as the call was connected.
Trevor realized that was his answer. The guy was thirty nine years old but would probably see an early grave thanks to his stressful habits. Years ago when they’d first met, Trevor had found the fast paced lifestyle alluring. It had quickly lost its appeal but he didn’t see Brady ever growing out of it.
“I’m about to call Julia. She needs to know what’s going on with this latest stalker. Joe should be touching down here in Atlanta in the next few minutes. Once I’ve discussed things with Julia and Joe, I’ll talk to Chastity again.”
“We need to do whatever Chastity says. You know she’s the best in the biz. The sooner we get on this the better. I’m sure it’s a nice boost, a free boost, for Julia’s book but—”
“She did not leak the story. She wouldn’t do that.”
“How can you be so sure? Look, I know you’ve got the hots for her man, but think with your head for a minute—”
“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about Brady. I love her. I know her. She lives her life behind the spotlight.”
“Just let Chastity do her thing.”
“Not until Joe is in place. I’m not leaving anything to chance.”
“All right. Keep me in the loop.”
Trevor wanted to snort. He quickly reminded himself that Brady was a business acquaintance, not a friend. He didn’t care much about Trevor’s personal life so long as it didn’t mess up his game or his endorsements and now that endorsements were all that was left, he’d love to keep Trevor’s name in the paper. It was just business.
So instead of snorting and telling Brady to kiss him where the sun didn’t shine he gave a quick ‘sure’ and hung up.
JJ’s body was warring between a sugar rush and the blissful mellowness that three glasses of wine had brought on. She’d probably overindulged, but it was just one of those days. She’d run an extra mile for the rest of the week to even things back out.
She punched her pillow and settled in; knowing sleep would be far away. Part of her wanted to call the cab back and head over to Trevor’s house. But the other half of her was miffed that she hadn’t heard a peep from him in well over twelve hours.
Her phone buzzed atop her night stand and she flopped over. Since she’d given up hope of hearing from Trevor today, she didn’t know who would be calling her this late. If it was another reporter—
Trevor’s name flashed across the top of the screen and she hit the answer button.
“Are you okay?” she said, rather than the standard hello. Inwardly she cringed at how much she’d sounded like her mother just then.
“I’m fine. Are you okay?” He sounded… concerned.
Interesting question considering she had called him several times and gotten no answer. Maybe all her calls made him think something was wrong.
“I’m okay.” She wasn’t going to ask why he hadn’t called her back, not tonight. It was just good to hear his voice, to feel the connection to him, no matter how tenuous. She’d prefer to have him in bed next to her so she could prove to herself that he was fine. Safe.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. How was girls’ night?”
“Not as much fun as usual. Adam and Cindy broke up.”
“That sucks. Why?”
“Long distance, I guess. She doesn’t want to move and neither does he. I think they were probably tired of trying to make it work.”
“They seemed good together.”
“Yeah.” JJ had thought the same thing. When those two were in the room, it was like two pieces of a puzzle clicking together. They had that annoying habit of finishing each other’s sentences and grinning at each other like lovesick fools.
“So I got a call from your publicist earlier. She wanted to know if I’d be willing to drop in on your signings to lend my support. I—”
“She what?” JJ had hardly spoken more than a few sentences with the woman. April whatever-her-name-was had plenty of ideas for promoting the book and honestly, that just wasn’t JJ’s thing. So she’d smiled dutifully and acted excited all the while longing for freedom. “How—was this before the article or after?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. The story is out. I’ve been getting calls all day.”
“Me too,” JJ inserted.
“Brady’s brought in a PR guru to handle things on my end but I’m more concerned about you.”
“I’m fine. I had a few calls from journalists. One from a blogger.” She couldn’t hold back the sigh. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“I know, it’s just, if it starts to grow legs…” He paused, as if regrouping.
“I know,” she said. Boy did she know. She’d been thinking about it off and on since Gretchen had told her. Her fellow journalists would have a field day asking
her
questions for a change. The men who still considered sports journalism a man’s field would probably resent her more than they already did. In fact, she could just hear their snide comments about sleeping her way to a story.
As if she’d ever do that.
The day she needed to sleep her way to the top was her last day.
She realized he’d been quiet for a while. Or maybe their call had gotten dropped.
“Did we get dropped again?” she asked.
“No. Sorry. Just thinking.”
He didn’t sound like his usual self. “What’s wrong?”
He sighed. “I’ve been getting more letters.”
The way he said the words made her sit up in bed.
“Listen, I’ve brought my former bodyguard back on board. He’s heading to your place right now. I want you to let him in and listen to him completely—”
“You what? What letters? Like
letters
letters or creepy letters?” Her blood pressure rose and she got up and paced to the window and then back to her closet.
“Creepy letters.” He sounded almost agonized saying those two words and everything in her wanted to rise up and defend him. Go to battle for him. Protect him from the psychos who would make his life hell because of their crazy, sick fascination.
“His name is Joe Catrell. Tall, dark haired. He’s really good and he’ll keep you safe. I’m going to stay put tonight but we’ll meet up at the airport tomorrow.”
“Wait. Backup. He’s coming here?”
“You were mentioned in today’s letter, Julia.”
Her? His words sent a trickle of fear down her spine.
“Because the media outed us?” she said. Stupid party. It’d been a wonderful night but not worth causing them future problems.
“Yes.”
“And you think there’s a valid enough threat that I need protection?”
“After last time, I’m not willing to take chances, sweetheart.”
There was a knock at her door and it took her a moment to calm herself. How had he gotten past— right. She was in her loft now. No extra security downstairs.
“Hold on a sec,” she said.
“Is he there? Did Greg install the peep-hole yet?”
Ignoring him while she wrestled with the door lock, she kept the safety chain in place and her foot against the door. But as she cracked it open and got a look at the tall man on the other side she quickly realized that her foot and a safety chain had no chance whatsoever.
“Miss Fairchild?” he said. She nodded. “Name’s Joe Catrell.”
She heard a hint of accent and presumed Texan. In the dim hall light, she got an impression of deep blue eyes, strong cheek bones and a lean, whipcord body.
“I don’t suppose you have ID on you?” she asked, feeling the need to be a little extra cautious. No doubt he could snap her in two at will.
“Julia—is Joe there?” Trevor’s voice came through the line.
The man outside her door held up a wallet with his driver’s license on one side and a photo of a couple of kids on the other.
“Does he have kids?” JJ asked Trevor. She asked partly to verify the man’s identity and partly because the idea of a bodyguard having kids struck her as… odd.
For some reason she’d always thought of bodyguards as, well, loners. Ramblers. Hopping from job to job with minimum ties or emotional involvement.
“Two nieces and a nephew,” Trevor said.
“Holly, Summer and Sam,” Joe said, putting the wallet away.
She shut the door, unlocked the security chain and opened it again. And her imagination was suddenly running wild with her.
She gave him a quick once over now that she could see more of him. She realized he was looking her over as well.
“You’re smart to ask for ID, but you really should have a peep-hole.”
He came inside, dropped a duffel bag on the floor, kicked the door shut and flipped the lock like he’d live here for years.