Page 32 of Fake Out

Maybe Ria is right, and I really am in trouble here. My career is finally taking off, and the last thing I need is to jeopardize it by falling for a client. Especially one with a reputation like Charlie’s.

As our laughter fades and the restaurant begins to empty, I make a silent vow to myself. Once Charlie signs with a team, I’ll ask Isaac to reassign me to different clients. It’s for the best, even though the very thought of letting go of him sends a pang of longing through my chest.

“Marissa,” Charlie says softly, reaching across the table to gently squeeze my hand. “Thank you for tonight. It’s been incredible.”

“Thank you,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

Our eyes lock, and for a brief moment, I allow myself to get lost in the depths of his gaze, knowing that soon enough, I’ll have to find my way back to reality — no matter how much it hurts.

CHAPTER 15

CHARLIE

The moment Marissa and I enter the conference room, it’s clear this meeting with the San Antonio reps is different from the others. It’s not just the fact that there are more people here than in the other meetings, although that certainly adds to the tense atmosphere. No, it’s something else, like a cloud of expectation hanging in the air.

And it makes sense. People have been sending me and Marissa the articles about us. We’ve made blogs and posts all over the internet. Everyone has noticed that I’m in a new relationship and that I have a new agent.

Just like Marissa said we would, we’re making waves.

“Calm and focused,” Marissa whispers into my ear.

“Got it,” I reply, my chest tightening as we take our seats at the head of the table.

The reps exchange glances, their faces a mix of skepticism and curiosity. It already feels like I’m on trial, fighting for my future.

“Let’s get started,” says the lead rep, a stern-looking woman with sharp cheekbones and an even sharper gaze. “We’ve received reports about your recent improvements, Charlie. However, we want to hear from you directly. Where is your headspace right now?”

“Thanks for asking,” I say, taking a deep breath. I focus on Marissa’s advice, reminding myself that sincerity is key. “To be honest, I’ve been through a lot lately, but I’ve come out of it stronger and more determined than ever. I realized that I owe it to myself and my fans to take control of my life, both on and off the field.”

“Interesting,” she says, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And how do you plan on turning your image around?”

“Firstly, by being more open about my journey,” I explain, the weight of their gazes on me. “I want people to know that I’m striving to grow and improve, both as an athlete and as a person. That means engaging with the media and the public in a positive way, as well as getting involved with community initiatives and giving back to those less fortunate.”

“Commendable,” another rep interjects, a man with salt-and-pepper hair. “But what will you do to stay focused if we decide to take you on?”

“Simple,” I say, looking him dead in the eye. “I’ll surround myself with people who believe in me and my potential. Like Marissa here. She’s been instrumental in helping me get back on track. And I’ll continue to work hard, both mentally and physically, to ensure that I’m always at the top of my game.”

“Very well,” says the lead rep, her expression inscrutable. “Thank you for your candor, Charlie. We’ll be sure to take all of this into consideration.”

“Of course,” I reply, feeling a surge of pride.

I did it; I tackled their questions head-on without letting nerves or doubt get the best of me. And it’s all because of Marissa. Her unwavering support has made me believe that I can overcome anything. And maybe, just maybe, these reps will see me in the same light.

“Charlie.” A rep who hasn’t said anything yet studies me. “We’ve heard some rumors about you and Marissa. Can you confirm if there’s any truth to them?”

I glance at Marissa, and she gives me a subtle nod. We had prepared for this question, but it still feels oddly exposing to discuss our relationship — fake as it is — in front of these strangers.

I clear my throat. “Yes, it’s true. Marissa and I are together.”

“Interesting,” the rep murmurs, scribbling something down on her notepad. “And how has that affected your professional relationship?”

“Actually, it’s enhanced it,” Marissa interjects smoothly. “Our personal connection has allowed us to communicate more effectively and trust each other implicitly. I think it’s only strengthened Charlie’s commitment to bettering himself and his career.”

As she speaks, her knee grazes my knee ever so lightly, sending a flood of warmth through me. I know it’s an accidental touch, but it still affects me.

It’s strange. Even though our romantic relationship began as an act, the lines between reality and pretense have started to blur. Our laughter no longer feels forced; instead, it comes naturally, as if we’ve been doing this for years. And now, sitting here in front of these people, I realize that my feelings for Marissa might not be entirely fake.

“Thank you for sharing that,” the lead rep says, nodding thoughtfully. “It’s always good to see that personal relationships can have positive effects on one’s professional life.”

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