Page 12 of Fake Out

“Charity work, huh?” I picture myself at some fancy fundraiser. “I can do that.”

“Great. Additionally, it wouldn’t hurt for you to be seen doing more wholesome things. Maybe spend some time in your community or go back home to visit family and friends.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” I say, genuinely impressed by her ideas.

She lights up. “Thank you. Here’s a list of local charities that would be good for you to volunteer with.”

As I take the paper from her, our fingers brush. Her touch sends a jolt of electricity through me, and I glance at her face to see if she feels it too. If she does, though, she gives no indication.

“And here is our contract for you to look over.” She slides the next paper over to me.

A mischievous grin spreads across my face as I ask, “So, does this mean you’re my agent?”

Marissa narrows her eyes, but there’s a hint of amusement in them. “We haven’t signed a contract yet,” she reminds me. “Right now, we’re on a trial run.”

“Of course,” I reply, nodding sagely. Still, I feel pleased at the thought that I might have won her over.

We finish the meeting by reviewing the game plan. I’ll sign up with a charity and have my mom come and visit so we can be seen together. Marissa will work on getting us meetings with teams.

Hopefully, come next season, I’ll be signed.

Our meal and meeting done, we stand up from our table, and I gesture for her to go first. She flashes me a small smile as she walks past, and I catch a whiff of her intoxicating perfume. My heart skips a beat as I follow her out of the restaurant.

“Thank you for visiting us,” the waiter says as he holds the door open for us. “I hope you both enjoyed your date.”

When we get to the sidewalk, Marissa’s face is flushed. “Date?” Marissa exclaims, looking incredulous.

I glance at her, wondering if she’s offended by the assumption. But then, her eyes widen, and it’s as though a lightbulb has suddenly turned on inside her head.

“That’s it,” she breathes.

“What’s it?” I ask, feeling a little lost.

“Charlie, that’s exactly what you need — a serious relationship to help change public perception of you.” She waves her hand in excitement.

I raise an eyebrow, unsure if I’m following.

“Are you suggesting I find a girlfriend?” I question, trying to wrap my head around the idea. It feels strange to think about getting into a relationship purely for the sake of my image.

Also, I’m not a relationship type of guy. Never have been and never will be.

“Think about it,” she says. “If people see you in a loving, committed relationship, they’ll start to see you in a new light. You’ll be more than just a playboy athlete — they’ll see the man behind the image.”

I contemplate her words, feeling a mixture of apprehension and intrigue. It’s true that my reputation precedes me, but could something as simple as a relationship change that?

Then again, I don’t have anything to lose, but I do have everything to win. I’m willing to do whatever Marissa thinks is best.

“Okay,” I say as we walk down the sidewalk. “Let’s give it a shot.”

“Great!” Marissa exclaims, clapping her hands together. “Now we just need to find you the perfect woman.”

A couple teenagers approach, but this time I welcome them forward and take a photo with them. Having Marissa on my team is already making me feel better, more hopeful.

“So now I just need to get myself a girlfriend,” I say in a low voice. We reach the end of the block, where my car is parked.

“Well… you don’t need a real girlfriend for this. It just has to look like you’re settling down with someone.”

I nod, understanding her point but still feeling uneasy about the whole thing. “But won’t people eventually figure it out if it’s not real?”

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