Page 70 of The Confidentiality Clause
“Nothing, I guess.” My voice falls flat. “Have a safe flight.”
“Thanks.”
He stalks out of the kitchen. Wyatt’s music still plays softly. I go to the speaker and turn it off, abandoning the omelet on the counter.
Chapter thirty-one
Brock Jones
I sink into my seat as the jet I chartered takes me to LA. Five hours. I’m trapped on this thing for five hours when I should already be there dealing with the issue.
I bury my head in my hands. This is all my fault. If I would have stuck to my plan, then I wouldn’t be letting anyone down. Instead, I was playing arcade games while one of my biggest MLB clients, Vincent, was facing down the media and cops on his own.
I try to watch most of my clients’ press conferences. Of course I miss the one where someone came after Vincent’s family so the champion hitter came after them. The video is something to see. Which is probably why it’s everywhere right now. Every sports news account and channel is playing it. Podcasts are already dissecting the interaction. People are taking sides. And I’m a day behind.
My phone buzzes in my pocket right as the pilot comes on the speaker announcing we’re about to take off. I buckle my seatbelt and pull out my phone. Since the jet has WiFi, I should be able to handle some work, but nothing beats being there in person. Vincent isn’t going to feel taken care of if I’m across the country making calls from a different time zone.
Jason: Did you guys see what happened with Vinny on the news? Brock, do you know if the reporter pressed charges?
Shaw: That punch was killer. I kind of want to call and ask if he’ll switch to hockey.
Miles: What did the reporter say anyway? I’ve wanted to punch the media, but it would take a lot for me to actually do it.
Emmett: They insulted his family. I’d throw more than a punch for that.
Jason: Look at Emmett being in the know! Did Hazel finally bring you out of the Dark Ages?
Shaw: You saying things like that is probably why he doesn’t respond to us often.
Emmett: Correct.
Miles: Brock must be working on this. And he thought we gave him a hard time. At least we didn’t punch any reporters.
Jason: It’s still early in our careers (minus Emmett, of course), we’ve got time.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. This is all a joke to them.
Brock: You guys realize that my livelihood is on the line, right? Vinny’s too. It’s not a time for jokes.
Miles: Sorry, man, was just trying to lighten the mood.
Shaw: Everything okay? Anything we can do?
My head falls back against the seat. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. Ariel’s words about hiring someone come back to me. This proves that I don’t have the capacity to do that right now, and the guys probably wouldn’t even take it seriously if I asked for their help. I open my eyes and type out an answer before muting the group chat.
Brock: I’m on my way to LA. Thanks for the offer, but no. I have to handle it.
My phone buzzes again, then another time. I let out a frustrated growl and check my messages. There’s one from Sutton. I open it first.
Sutton: I’m sorry you’re dealing with this whole fiasco. I know being on the wrong side of the media is hard. And I also know the guys can be dumb sometimes, but they care about you. We all do.
I exit out of our chat without replying and click on the next unread text, which happens to be from Ariel.
Ariel: I know you’re mad at me, but can you let me know when you land? So I know you’re safe.
I run a hand across my forehead, trying to massage away the growing headache building there. This is too much at once. The past few weeks have been exhausting. There’s no way I can keep up with seeing my family and friends all the time without running this business into the ground. Between taking hours off to spend with Sutton and Shaw, to being distracted by Ariel all the time, the business is suffering. And if I try to communicate that, I’m met with insults and mild to severe threats. Slater was right. No one else is going to understand.
At the same time, I can’t deny that I’ve felt better than I ever have while being with Ariel. She makes me laugh and relax. When I’m around her, it’s like I’m myself again, instead of the guy I have to be for my clients. She challenges me and pushes my buttons, but it makes me feel alive. The past year has feltlike a haze of late nights and long days. Until she waltzed into my office in those sky-high heels. From that moment on, I’ve been scrambling to be a good businessman while also soaking up every second with her.
