Page 108 of A Scoring Chance

“But how is that going to solve our problem with Annamarie? Are you going to tell the world what she’s done to us all because her daddy doesn’t know how to tell her no?” Alise asks, and I nod, hating not knowing what the plan is.

“Sort of. Just trust me, okay?” He plants a kiss on my forehead. “After the press conference, there will be no doubt in anyone’s mind that Annamarie should be committed.”

I trust Cooper with my life, so why not trust him to take care of this, as well? I know he’d never do anything to purposely put me or anyone he cares about in danger, but we can’t underestimate Annamarie again. Look at how much chaos she created in less than twenty-four hours. There’s no way she doesn’t have something else up her sleeve.

“I trust you,” I say with conviction, believing it with every fiber of my being. “I only have one question. What does one wear to a press conference?”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Cooper

“Are you sure this is how you want to do this?” Beau asks, handing me the neatly wrapped present my mother brought from my place.

I couldn’t bear to leave Ramona in the hospital all alone. Pure terror fills my veins as my eyes flick around the room, searching for her. I take a deep breath, reminding myself that she’s just in the other room, getting changed. Two recently hired bodyguards stand at the entrance. “Yes, this is the only way to prove to Henry how dangerous Annamarie is to all of us.”

Remy and I tried to reason with Henry, but he wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t believe that his little girl could do something so sinister. He admitted to knowing about her crush on me, but he blew it off as a passing fling. Too bad he has no idea how dangerous she is, but our plan will show him.

“But a fake press conference? Isn’t that going a little far?”

“It’s not fake, per se. There is a trusted reporter in the room who will be given the scoop of a lifetime and a nice payout if she only reports what we tell her to.”

Henry was reluctant to agree to this one reporter being present, but I wasn’t budging on this. I pat the box in my pants pocket, knowing this is the right thing to do. After whathappened yesterday, I need to make sure everyone knows how serious I am about spending the rest of my life with Ramona.

“If you’re sure. This is a big step to be making so soon after starting therapy.”

“I know, but I had my first meeting with my therapist this morning, and she assured me that this will be a good thing for both of us. A way for us to heal together and set us on a path for the future.”

With Beauty’s help and a few recommendations from her therapist, I connected with a wonderful woman in Connecticut that does telehealth appointments instead of in person, ensuring that I can continue therapy when I start playing again. We have a lot to work on, but I’m confident with Ramona’s and everyone’s support, I can do anything.

“I’m happy for you, Cooper. I think you're nuts, but I’m happy for you.” Beau slaps me hard on the back, taking one last look at himself in the mirror. He isn’t the one going on stage and speaking in front of a room of almost all fake reporters, but he can’t be seen without his persona in place.

“When are you going to drop the act and let everyone see the real you? I have a feeling someone else might respond much better to that than the lies she sees in the papers about you.”

“One day of therapy and you’re already trying to psychoanalyze me,” he chuckles, running his hand through his curly hair. He went without the backward baseball cap today, trading his jeans and hoodies for a nice pair of charcoal grey tailored pants and a light blue button-up shirt. When I asked him, he said he wanted to give off an air of confidence instead of his usual laid-back attire.

“Nah. Just speaking from experience. Letting someone in won’t send them running in the other direction. If she’s the person you were meant to be with, she’ll love every part of you, even the bad parts.”

“Enough, Dr. Phil. I get your point, but I’m not there yet. I honestly don’t know if I ever will be.” His phone rings softly in his pocket, and he pulls it out, his eyebrows pulled down in confusion. “It's a text from Cole. He wished me luck in the game today and asked me to tell you to stop calling. When he wants to talk, he’ll call you.”

“I only called him once.”

I run my hand along the back of my neck, adjusting the black blazer Ramona suggested I wear to cover the bandages. We don’t want the one real reporter in the audience asking too many questions. I don’t know if I'll ever be ready to share my struggles with the world, but whether I tell the world or not needs to be my choice.

“I wanted to tell him everything and try to explain myself. I’m hoping that if he understands, we might be able to start over. I miss my brother, too.”

“Cole has his own demons that he’s fighting. I’m sure he’ll come around when he’s ready to talk, now that he knows you're at least open to listening to what he has to say.”

I hate that Cole thought I was unwilling to listen to what he had to say. Sure, I said some horrible things to him that night, but I apologized and tried to talk to him almost immediately after. He was hurt and eighteen years old. We all think we know everything at that age. We both let our stubbornness get in the way, neither one wanting to make the first step to mend the hurt between us. This is me taking the first real step in mending my relationship with my brother. I just hope he’s willing to meet me in the middle.

“Are you two ladies done primping? The press conference starts in two minutes.” Remy barges into the office we commandeered to get dressed near the media room.

“You realize this isn’t a real press conference?”

“Yes, smartass, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have to be on time.” Remy claps his hands before pulling the door open and motioning for us to leave.

I shake my head before shoving Beau out the door, and the three of us make the short walk to the media room. All the “reporters” are whispering to each other around the room. Melody is sitting front and center in the third row, pen poised and ready to take notes.

When Remy suggested a fresh-out-of-school reporter who interned at his agency over the summer, I thought he’d lost his mind, but after speaking to her for a few minutes on the phone this morning, I knew she was the perfect choice. Her passion for the truth outweighed everything else, a rare quality in journalists these days. Something that I definitely wanted to reward. Hopefully, this gives her the boost she needs to be writing sports news regularly.

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