Page 122 of Fake Married to the Grumps

I’m so sorry, Gracie,I think as I stop myself from shielding her view from the girls videoing us.

“Wait here. Let me bring the car closer.” When Gracie hurries away, I take a closer look at the girls and realize they are still murmuring to each other in an excited chatter.

My phone starts buzzing, and I see that it’s a call from my manager, Zane.

“What’s the progress, man?” Zane asks as soon as I pick up the call. “You’ve been gone three days, and you’ve got nothing?”

Zane’s pressure stems from my team’s pressure to have me work on my public image before the start of the NBA playoffs.

“Not yet, but I might have something for you,” I say to him, watching my fans take the video as Gracie pulls up in front of me and honks once. “I can’t give you all the details right now. I’m still trying to get her on my side, but there might be a way to speed it up.”

“What way?” Zane queries. “We need something soon, Hawkins. I told you that if you don’t regain your popularity among the fans and change the narrative, the club will shut you out. They don’t mind paying the penalty for terminating your contract. You know that.”

“This was your last chance at getting it right. The scandals, the teammates complaining … You need to redeem yourself with them and make them see you as a good guy. No better way to do that than to be love-struck, don’t you think?”

My head begins to pound gently. “The deal was to get her on my side, right? I’m working on that, Zane, but it’s not as easy as you think. I can’t just make Gracie agree to such a thing.”

I’ve thought about all the possible ways this could play out. Gracie will not agree to such a stunt if there’s no push.

Besides, I already turned her down once. She needs to really believe that I need her help.

“Then what’s your plan? How do we pull this off?” Zane sounds impatient. I can tell from his raspy words and clipped tone.

My mind races as I try to come up with the perfect solution to my predicament. Zane has been my manager since the start of my career, and he’s the only reason I got off with a mere suspension after the last fight with my teammates.

“Don’t forget,this is your second chance, Hawkins. We need to convince the team’s management that you’re making amends and trying to do better. Our plan helps us prove you’re in a better place.”

“I know all of this. This fake relationship was your idea from the start, and I told you Gracie was perfect for it. Trust me, she is. All I need now is for you to make a social media post go viral. If this is going to work, then she has to think it happened by chance.”

“Fine,” Zane answers. “Just let me know what to do.”

I end the call and walk over to the car.

“Ready?” Gracie asks.

“Always.” She helps me get in the car, and I glance at my fans one last time, secretly squashing the heavy weight of my guilt as Gracie drives off.

This is what I need her for.

The past few months have been nothing but hectic for me. With the paparazzi watching my every move and blowing every misstep out of proportion, I somehow ended up with the image of a total jerk.

My mission is to become America’s most-loved player before the start of the playoffs, and what better way to prove to the hungry public that you’re a better man than to show them you’re in love?

Everyone loves a happy ending, and a tale about returning to Golden Bay for the woman I love is the perfect saga to help everyone move on from the negative rumors and media surrounding my reputation.

I don’t believe in loveor happy endings personally. My parents’failed marriage is enough proof that all of that is just a fairytale. It always ends with one or both parties getting hurt. It’s why an arrangement like what I’m planning is better. It’s easier and less messy. This way,there are no promises,and no one gets hurt.

***

Driving around Golden Bay is always refreshing. The feel of the beach’s crispy air over my skin and the salty tinge in the air is enough to relax me.

Gracie is quiet as she navigates her way around town and takes us from the local market to the town’s shipment bay, where she picks up cartons of books and loads them into the truck.

I wait in the car and watch her laugh at something one of the bay workers says to her. The man laughs and smooths her hair away from her face while grinning.

Watching them together fills me with jealousy and I clench my right hand into a tight fist without even realizing it. There’s a sour taste at the back of my throat.

Does she like that guy?

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