Catching Cameron: A Love and Football Novel (22 page)

“Grandma, there might be a lot of cursing in this,” he warned as the opening credits scrolled across the screen.

“I’ll plug my ears,” she replied. He had to smile. He heard Cameron’s voice over a montage of Sharks players.

“Welcome to the Seattle Sharks training camp. I’m Cameron Ondine. I’ll be spending the next month living in a dorm with eighty men who want to be able to run out on the field for the first game of the NFL season in a Sharks uniform. The Sharks can sign only fifty-three of them. We’ll be following them and their stories over the next month.”

He bit into a cookie and watched as his teammates ran onto the practice field the first day of camp. The cameraperson zeroed in on Drew McCoy and Derrick Collins. Their comments on audio were crystal-clear.

“Did you see the rookie LB yet? Mr. Butkus Award winner?”

“That kid is huge. We’d better watch our asses.”

Derrick snorted. “He’s not so tough. He probably still sleeps with a teddy bear and calls his mama each night before he’s tucked in.”

The next piece of film featured the defense lining up against the offense. The rookie linebacker burst through the line and gave the Sharks’ QB a shove before he could get a pass off.

“Nice,” Derrick yelled at him. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Hey, old man,” the kid yelled back at him.

Derrick looked momentarily pissed, and then started to laugh. “You’re all right, rook. You’re all right.”

To Zach’s surprise, the show didn’t gloss over what happened with the former head coach. They let video tell the story, including the incident between the head coach and Cameron, which he was amused to note Logan had caught in its entirety. He wondered how she felt about being part of the story.

The rest of the hour program, to his chagrin, was a retelling of his and Cameron’s attempts to spend some time alone. He had to laugh at the shaky, hand-held camera attempts to film their stroll on a darkened practice field while his teammates heckled him over the fact the media had discovered he and Cameron were previously married. He was surprised to see a few minutes of video of their late-night brownie feast in the cafeteria one night. He laughed again at the video of his having breakfast with Cameron, and badgering her to eat more than a few bites.

He wondered who had edited the video. They’d managed to catch Cameron at her most likeable and sympathetic. It also wasn’t lost on him that his sisters smiled at the footage, and laughed when she interviewed the three little boys watching practice that first day.

The last ten minutes of the episode made his stomach clench. Security cameras must have picked up Cameron’s being led away from being confronted by her stalker outside of the facility. The security guard was telling her, “Officers are here. Let’s get you inside the building.”

He could hear her frightened voice. “We can’t leave. He’s still there with Zach. We have to help Zach. Please.”

“Zach’s right behind us, Ms. Ondine. The other officers have the suspect in custody.”

She tried to break away from the guard. “I don’t see Zach. Where is he? Please tell me he’s not hurt!”

The screen faded to black, and the credits rolled. The room was silent.

Chapter Seventeen

C
AMERON AWOKE THE
morning after the
Third and Long
premiere to a madly vibrating cell phone and insistent knocking on her dorm room door. She wasn’t surprised about the phone. She was so tired last night she fell asleep despite the noise. Right now, it scooted across the nightstand of its own accord. If that wasn’t enough, one glance at the clock radio on her bedside table told her she’d overslept.

She heard more knocking at her door.

“Who’s there?” she called out.

She recognized Drew’s voice. “There’s two guys in the lobby looking for you,” he said. “And good morning.”

“Good morning,” she said. She crept closer to the door in the soft gray light of an overcast morning in the Seattle area. “Did you recognize them?” She grabbed for the Princeton logo hoodie at the foot of her bed and pulled it on, jamming her glasses on seconds later.

“I think you’re going to recognize them,” he said.

She opened the door a crack. She was willing to bet it wasn’t the first time Drew saw a woman with no makeup, glasses, and bedhead. Over the past few days, he and most of his teammates seemed to forget that she was the enemy—a working member of the media—and started treating her like a pesky kid sister. She couldn’t decide whether she was insulted or complimented by the fact he’d seen her multiple times now when she was less than camera-ready, and it didn’t seem to matter to him.

He grinned at her. “I’m pretty sure it’s your dad. He’s with a guy who looks like he has a stick crammed up his ass.”

Her stomach dropped out. She really wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation with her father today. She’d avoided his phone calls since the night Zach told her what really happened in Las Vegas ten years ago, too. She’d realized any discussion with him was going to have to happen in person to have any impact at all. He’d just hang up on her and do what he wanted if it didn’t.

“Thank you for letting me know,” she said.

“He tried the ‘Don’t you know who I am?’ line with Joanna the receptionist. She wasn’t having any of his shit.” Drew’s laughter echoed in the hallway. “She told him she didn’t care if he was the President of the United States. He wasn’t getting into the players’ dorm, and that was final.”

Cameron owed her. She wondered if Joanna would prefer a spa weekend or a piece of fine jewelry more. She didn’t have time to think about it right now, though. She made a mental note for later.

“I appreciate the warning, Drew. I’ll get myself down there.”

“Want us to duct-tape him to the goalpost?” he asked. She must have looked surprised. “Zach mentioned he can be a bit of a handful.”

“No, thank you. I’ll take care of it. Thanks again.” She shut the door and hurried to the bathroom.

One hour later, Cameron was showered, dressed, and ready for her day. She called downstairs to discover that her father and his unidentified guest had taken themselves off to the nearest Starbucks. She’d also had a tense conversation with Kacee via cell phone. Kacee was unavailable. Again.

“I’m working on something for Ben,” Kacee insisted. “I can be there in a couple of hours.”

“That’s not good enough, Kacee.” Cameron let out a long breath. “I’ve been really patient with you and all of your ‘extra duties for Ben,’ and it’s not helping. If you don’t want the job, tell me and I’ll find someone else.”

Cameron glanced down at the huge list of “to-do’s” on her iPad. She needed a new assistant as soon as possible. Interviewing candidates in the middle of her existing responsibilities would be all kinds of fun, but she couldn’t put it off any longer.

“Ben won’t let you fire me,” Kacee shot back.

“Really? The last time I checked, you work for me, and you haven’t been working for me for several days now. Again, Kacee: If you don’t want the job, quit. If you’re not here in an hour, consider yourself fired.”

Cameron stalked downstairs. Her day hadn’t even started yet, and she wondered if it was too late to crawl back into bed. She knew Zach had spent the night at his house. He was probably in the weight room by now. She wondered what he’d thought of last night’s show. She wasn’t especially happy with some of the footage PSN featured. She hated having her private life exploited for ratings, and according to some of the texts she’d seen on her phone before she fell asleep, ratings were through the roof. In other words, it was about to get worse.

Ben was probably delirious with happiness over the sky-high ratings and resulting advertising sales. She’d be a lot happier if he’d stop stealing her assistant.

Speaking of ratings, she was going to have to get some additional interviews and some film for tonight’s taping of
NFL Confidential
. Logan covered Drew and Derrick’s pre-practice workout yesterday, and they talked some of the other guys on their floor into taping a funny segment showing off their dorm rooms. She could hear the guys cleaning yesterday before Logan arrived with his camera.

A couple of dark-haired, tall guys in suits with earpieces met her as she stepped off the elevator. They did their best to blend into the woodwork but never took their eyes off her. She beckoned them over.

“I need to go outside to do some work.”

“We’ll follow you, then.” The guy she thought of as Earphone One nodded at his colleague.

“Do I need to tell you where I’m going?” She wasn’t even sure what to say. She didn’t want anyone to think she was ungrateful, but she wished—again—she didn’t have to be trailed by security everywhere she went.

“Go about your business,” Earphone One said. “Don’t worry about us.” His partner nodded.

Cameron walked out to the practice field. The Sharks had resumed their public practices a couple of days ago, but the team had instituted the same rules the NFL put in place for game day—no handbags, no backpacks, nothing brought onto the grounds that wouldn’t fit in a gallon-sized clear plastic bag. The fans wouldn’t arrive for another hour or so.

She introduced herself to a couple of the rookies doing a little stretching out on the field after their lifting. The two guys stopped what they were doing and got to their feet.

“How’s your day?” she asked, trying to get the conversation going.

An offensive guard several inches taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier than she was gave her a nod. “Happy to be here, Ms. Ondine,” he said with the thickest Southern accent she’d ever heard. His teammate seemed to be struck dumb by her presence; he stared and said nothing.

“Please, call me Cameron,” she said.

“Mah mama would smack my hide,” he said. “She told me to treat you like I treat her.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Caleb, ma’am. Nice to meet you.”

She knew he’d attended a tiny school in Louisiana that wasn’t known for offensive linemen. He was so talented scouts were beating a path to his door by the time he was a junior in high school. He didn’t take the four-year scholarship at a bigger school because he didn’t want to leave his mother after Caleb’s younger brother died at seventeen in a drive-by shooting. When he was asked at the Combine what he wanted most in life, he said he wanted to buy his mother a house so she’d never worry about being homeless again.

Caleb was every bit as humble and polite as she’d been told by more than one of her colleagues. She was really looking forward to featuring him during her training camp coverage. It was a pleasure to talk with someone who deserved every bit of success that came his way.

“What do you think of training camp so far?” She grabbed the stylus for her iPad and pulled up the note-taking app. “What has surprised you most?”

She saw his shy smile. “The weather. It’s the beginning of August, and this would be cold back home.”

She glanced up to see the sun peeking through the formerly leaden skies. This was a well-known phenomenon in Seattle called a “sunbreak.” For anyone used to summertime in the South, though, they’d be looking for a sweater in the mid-sixty degree day.

She spotted movement out of the corner of her eye. Her father and a guy she’d met once before were striding across the field. Her dad didn’t look happy, to put it mildly. To her amazement, Caleb stepped between her and her obviously irritated parent.

She tugged on the sleeve of his jersey. “Caleb. That’s my dad. It’s okay.”

“I don’t recognize him. You stay behind me, ma’am.” She saw Caleb square his shoulders, fold his arms across his chest, and spread his legs slightly in a power stance.

“May I help you?” Caleb called out.

“You can get away from my daughter,” her father demanded.

The guys with the earpieces were quick to surround her, too. “Freeze,” one of them called out to him.

“Guys. Guys. It’s my dad.”

“He was told nobody but team personnel, media, and security are allowed on the field without an escort during non-practice hours,” Earphone One told her. He addressed her father. “I don’t appreciate this. Who’s your guest?”

“Do you know who I am?” her father said. Cameron stifled a groan. Her dad’s life motto seemed to be “when in doubt, threaten people and act like a jerk.” Sure enough, he narrowed his eyes and glared at Caleb. “I could end your NFL career on the spot.” He curled his lip at Earphones One and Two. “I could also have you fired immediately.”

The guy standing next to her dad might be handsome if he wiped the superior smirk off his face.

Cameron couldn’t see the expression on Caleb’s face, but she could see Earphones One and Two. They didn’t look happy.

“You can threaten us all you’d like, sir, but the front office put these rules into place for a reason. Ms. Ondine will meet with you inside the building at her convenience.”

Another security guard stepped into Cameron’s line of vision. “Let’s go,” the guy said to her dad.

Her father glared at her. “We’ll be talking about this shortly.”

“I’m sure we will,” she said. She resisted the impulse to roll her eyes.

Her father and his guest walked away, accompanied by the security guard. She patted Caleb’s arm when they were out of earshot.

“Thanks for protecting me.”

“Any time, ma’am. You let me know if you need any more help.”

“Would you like to do a little interview today when you’re finished with practice and meetings? I’ll ask you a few questions about training camp. It’ll be fun.” She scribbled “Ask Caleb about his roommate” on her iPad. All rookies had a training camp roommate. She already knew Caleb’s roommate was a bit of a handful.

She saw him smile again. “I’d love to. Thank you for asking.”

Cameron walked inside the practice facility to write up a few more notes and organize the rest of her to-do list for the day. She had to go talk to her father, which she wasn’t looking forward to. The longer she put it off, however, the worse it would be for Joanna. She was more worried about inconveniencing Joanna than making her father angrier.

Cameron and her father weren’t close. He was incensed about her career choice, and he’d made that plain on a number of occasions. She’d noted his increasingly irritated phone calls about last week’s confrontation outside the facility, but she hadn’t called him back. She knew it would be nothing but another long argument, and she was tired of dealing with it. It was time to pay the piper, however. She shoved the door open to walk into the lobby and came to a halt, partially hidden behind a large trophy case full of Sharks memorabilia.