Page 72 of Provoking the Punter

Once again, Garrett found himself sitting across the table from Oliveira, Ross, and Caitlin. He still wanted to puke, but for different reasons. No one had mentioned cutting him yet. Was that a good thing, or were they covering their asses first?

Caitlin had printed out several of the articles, and they were spread out on the table between them. His eyes kept drifting to the photo of him and Chester. It was clear they were very much into each other and not going home alone.

He’d called Chester twice. Left two messages and texted.

Chester hadn’t replied.

He was probably working.

Garrett hoped he was working.

Or perhaps he’d gone for a swim and dropped his phone in the pool, and it was broken, and that’s why he wasn’t texting or returning his calls.

That or Chester was ignoring him because he’d never wanted to be a part of this. He’d made that clear from the start. He had his own life and businesses, and he was not giving that up.

Fuck, Garrett didn’t want to be a part of this situation, as Caitlin kept calling it. This isn’t what they’d talked about last night.

He reached out and put his finger on the photo. He hadn’t noticed it at first, mostly because he’d been looking at the photo and wondering how close the person had been and how he hadn’t noticed or suspected a thing, not the text beneath. “There is only one person who calls me Gary, and he does it because it pisses me off.”

He wanted to be wrong. He really did. Maybe some other knob out there thought it was fun to shorten his name. Or someone else had overheard him talking to James.

“It doesn’t matter who released the photo,” Caitlin said. “It’s out now.”

“It matters to me. Because it means someone followed me from the first bar to the second one, hoping to catch me out.” And because he was a fucking idiot, he’d been caught. For the first time in his life, he hadn’t been looking over his shoulder. He had relaxed and let himself enjoy having a life, and now he was paying for it.

“Players get followed. You get photographed. It’s why we remind you to be aware of what you are doing and who you are doing it with,” Coach Oliveira said.

Had he said that to Addison and Cal? Had he and Caitlin known and discussed their relationship?

“James calls me Gary.” It sounded so petty. Like he was a kid in the playground calling James out for name calling. He needed to shut his mouth because right now he was the one making trouble. His father would have smacked him around the ear for dobbing already.

Caitlin glanced at the coaches. “Let’s focus on moving forward and restricting the damage. We know you were in the wrong place at the wrong time with Harrison, but saying that will achieve nothing besides feeding that story. We need to control the message, which means you need to make a post. A picture of both of you. Something low key. We can prepare a few. And we’ll take some footage while you’re training. I’ll write the content.”

“You’re assuming Chester agrees to be part of damage control.” He couldn’t make decisions for Chester.

Caitlin smiled as if it were a given. “He will. We’ll have a plan and a first post before the end of today.”

That seemed so bloody obvious. That they were posting new content to drown out the rest.

Garrett looked at Oliveira and Ross. “Am I training today?”

It wasn’t the question he wanted to ask, but it was as close as he could force out. His skin was raw, and everything hurt like he’d been trampled by the defense.

Since sitting at the table, he’d told them everything that had happened on his birthday, including what the wife had said and what Harrison had said. Everything that had been said to him before the trade. He didn’t remember much; it was the venom in her voice that stuck with him. The anger in her eyes. He’d seen it, and heard it, from his father after the crash.

There was no coming back from that. No letting it go and moving on.

And he still didn’t know what the fuck was going on. Did he have a place? Would they be going to this trouble if he didn’t?

“You’ve got work to do to be ready for this weekend’s game… Unless this is too much for you?” Coach Oliveira asked.

He was dressing for the game? If anything, he could use the distraction from what was going on. He knew how to sink into the work and the game and forget about everything else. “You’ve got the media covered, so I’m good.”

The lie was bitter on his tongue, but they accepted it. He was anything but good. He needed to talk to Chester. He wanted to yell at James. But he kept his face fixed in some kind of smile and hoped it didn’t look like something more suited to a melted mannequin.

“Good… Caitlin will cover this and liaise with the Copperheads PR if needed.”

Caitlin appeared thrilled with that, and Garrett wondered if she’d already talked to them, but given that the wife was the owner’s daughter, he doubted that anything was going to be done on their end.

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