Page 140 of Play the Game

He laughs out loud. “Absolutely not.”

“Then what am I doing in here with my agent on the line instead of practicing?”

“Emory.” Joseph clears his throat, and my eyes drop to the phone. “We have a slight problem. We’re going to need to do some damage control.”

What the fuck does that mean?

“Probably a press conference?” Coach asks, directing his question to Joseph.

“For what?” I ask.

Surely someone hasn’t come forward and said I tried to fuck them again. I’m married, for fuck’s sake.

“For this…” Coach says, turning his computer monitor around.

There are numerous photos of Scottie.

Or should I say,Cherry.

My heart beats right out of my chest.

I start to shake in my seat.

The bones in my hands crack.

“Get that shit taken down right now,” I grit.

Joseph scoffs. “The photo of your fake wife is the least of our concerns.”

I pull my glare from the phone and look at Coach.Did he fucking tell him?

He shakes his head, knowing what I’m going to ask. Instead of answering, he points to the third article title.

Olson’s Social Media Fluke - A Staged Marriage to a Stripper

I’m more concerned about Scottie than I am anything else at this moment. They’re referring to her as a stripper, like that’s all there is to her. I grow nauseated with the more titles I read.

A Disturbing Revelation about Star Goalie, Emory Olson’s, Wife

Mrs. Olson or Just Another Puck Bunny?

Scottie Monroe and Her Ties to Prison

“Fucking hell.” I slap my hand on the desk and shout into the phone. “Get it all taken down now, Joseph! They’re making her out to be something she isn’t.”

“It’s better than them making you out to be the bad guy,” he says.

He’s fucking fired.

I stand and head for my locker. I hear Coach follow after me, and in the middle of changing and grabbing my phone, he puts his hand on my shoulder and gives it a tight squeeze.

“This is the only time I’ll accept you walking out on practice. You got that?”

I nod and snag my keys. On the way to my car, I swipe away all my messages and notifications because of the leak. My only focus is Scottie.

I dial her number from my car, praying to God she hasn’t seen the news.

She doesn’t answer, and the pit in my stomach could swallow me whole.

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