Page 91 of Pucking My Grumpy Accidental Husband
"This isn't Seattle," Dax says firmly. "This is different."
"Yeah? well reading quotes about how our relationship 'created significant disruption within the organization' and 'concerns about preferential treatment,' makes it sound pretty fucking familiar to me."
My phone explodes with incoming calls—unknown numbers flooding my screen like a plague of electronic locusts.
"Don't answer any of them," Dax says immediately. "It's reporters wanting quotes, probably asking if we're getting divorced or if this was all some publicity stunt."
"A publicity stunt?" I want to laugh and cry simultaneously. "Because secretly getting married and then desperately trying to hide it is such brilliant fucking marketing."
His phone starts ringing, and when I see "Mom" on the caller ID, my heart sinks even further.
"Shit. I have to take this." He swipes to answer. "Hey, Ma."
"Dax Patrick Kingston," comes his mother's voice through the speaker, sharp with maternal fury that could cut diamond. "What in the Sam Hill is happening? I've got reporters calling me asking about your 'secret Vegas wedding' and whether I knew you were married!"
"Ma, I can explain?—"
"You better damn well explain! Some reporter just asked me if I thought Tessa was a gold digger, and I told him if he called back I'd report him for harassment and maybe kick his ass for good measure. But Dax, honey, what is going on?"
I can hear the hurt underneath her anger, and guilt twists in my stomach like a rusty knife. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Kingston. This is all my fault?—"
"Like hell it is," she interrupts fiercely. "Don't you dare blame yourself for some journalist's lack of human decency. But I need to know—are you two okay? Are you safe?"
"We're okay, Ma," Dax says, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. "Rattled as fuck, but okay. What about Emma? Please tell me they haven't found her?—"
"Too late for that, sweetheart. She called me twenty minutes ago, crying because some reporter cornered her outside her dorm asking about the family's reaction to your 'whirlwind romance.' I'm driving up to get her right now."
"Bring her here," I say immediately, my protective instincts kicking in. "Both of you. Stay with us until this shitstorm dies down."
"That's very sweet, honey, but we don't want to impose?—"
"You're not imposing," Dax says firmly. "You're family. Our family. And we protect family from vultures."
The moment we hang up, my phone starts buzzing again. This time it's Martinez, and I answer with dread pooling in my stomach.
"Coach, please tell me you have good news."
"Depends on your definition of good," his gravelly voice comes through. "The good news is the entire team is ready to burn the fucking city down for you both. Jamie's already called three reporters to give statements about your professional excellence. Luca's drafting something about team chemistry improvements since you arrived."
"And the bad news?"
"The bad news is Harrison really went nuclear. He's painting this as organizational chaos caused by inappropriate relationships, suggesting the board's decision to fire him was the result of player pressure rather than his own discriminatory bullshit."
I close my eyes, feeling the walls closing in around me like a fucking coffin. "So we're not just dealing with a relationship scandal. We're dealing with allegations that we corrupted the entire organization."
"That's about the size of it. But Tessa, listen to me—Chairman Ashford is furious. Not at you two, at Harrison. He's already called the legal team about potential defamation issues."
"Defamation?"
"Some of these quotes attributed to 'organizational sources' are demonstrably false. Your performance metrics, team improvement statistics, player satisfaction scores—it's all documented. Harrison's painting a picture that directly contradicts measurable fucking data."
Dax takes the phone from me. "What do you need us to do, Coach?"
"I need you both here in two hours. We're doing a press conference."
"A press conference?" I practically shriek. "Martinez, that's like throwing gasoline on a house fire!"
"No, hiding is like admitting guilt. Fighting back is like proving innocence. The team wants to stand with you publicly, and so does the organization. We're going to present the facts—performance improvements, team chemistry metrics, professional conduct documentation—and let the media draw their own damn conclusions."
