Reckless: A Bad Boy Sport Romance (49 page)

“You saw that?” Carrie sunk down in her seat. “That would be the work of Wattana, our editor-in-chief. I was sick on picture day, so Wattana jumped on the chance to unearth the most unflattering picture she could find of me. She's not my biggest fan, if you haven't figured that out yet.”

“I never said it was unflattering. You just look different, is all.”

“Oh. I guess.”

“Yup. So, I see you and Val are getting pretty close, huh?”

“What?” Carrie's forehead puckered. “Yeah, we're getting along just fine. You see, I tend to do that with helpful, respectful individuals –”

“Just a little friendly advice – you oughta be wary around the dude. He –”

“Excuse you. Not that it concerns you, but I don't need advice on how to handle myself, especially from you. Besides, I'm the one conducting this interview, thank you very much.”

“Okay, easy,” I surrendered with both hands, sighing. “Alright, I'm just gonna make this easy for you. You don't wanna be here, I don't wanna be here. I've got your story.”

“I'm listening.”

“Why don't you write about The AloAlo Hope Foundation? It's the charity Odell and I started in Lake County for kids with muscular dystrophy.”

“The AloAlo Hope Foundation?” Carrie repeated, looking unconvinced.

“It's legit. Look it up. I'm sure there are enough pictures and info floating around out there if you do a little homework. We're only 2 years in, so we're fairly new to the game, but we're doing some good work there. I know what the management wants. You get a sappy story, Abigail and them ease off a little – it's a win-win for both of us.”

“I don't know, I –”

“Aunt Carrie!”

The cutest goddamned kid I'd ever seen sprinted up to our table. The little chubster wore red glasses with thick lenses that magnified his bright hazel eyes. He slapped both hands onto the edges of Carrie's bench and hefted himself off the ground, squeezing himself into the booth. 

“Jackson!” Carrie's eyes bulged, darting around the restaurant. “What are you doing here?”

“I don't know.” Jackson shrugged, reaching over to sneak a piece of penne off her plate.  When my eyes zoned in on the needle marks on his little arm and the old surgery scars under his throat, my gut wrenched.

“Hey, buddy, how you doing?” I smiled at him. “My name's Kingsley.”

“Nice to meet you, Kingsley.” I couldn't help but smile when the kid stuck out his hand. I obliged, noting the firm grip from his tiny hand. This kid was definitely going places. “My name's Jackson.”

“Kingsley's a cool name.”

“Not as cool as Jackson.”

“Sorry, this is my nephew,” said Carrie anxiously. She sat on the edge of her seat, scouring the restaurant. “Not sure what's going on here or where my sister is –”

“Don't even worry about it.” I popped a meatball into my mouth and glanced at Jackson's shirt. “You like dinosaurs, huh?”

“You bet I do. What's not to like about them?” Jackson's squeaky voice had more depth and sense than most grown men I knew. He tugged at the end of his shirt and pointed at his chest. “This is an Amargasaurus – it's one of my favorite dinosaurs. It's got really cool spikes on its back to keep him safe.”

I rolled up the right leg of my pants, showing him the intricate portrait of a T-Rex inked down my calf.

“Wow! A Tyrannosaurus Rex? Cool! He's the king of the dinosaurs.”

“Exactly.” I withdrew my leg and rolled my pants back down. I raised my eyebrows at Carrie. “See? He gets it.”

“Finding common ground with a 5-year-old. Impressive –”

“Oh my goodness, what a surprise!”

A young girl who I assumed was Carrie's sister came up to our table. I could definitely see the resemblance. Apart from the the bright makeup and blonde streaks in the girl's hair, she and Carrie shared an almost identical jawline, nose, and lips. The girl held out her phone, aiming at the booth like she was filming us. I looked back at Carrie, her face going pale.

“Jackson's meeting his first celebrity!”

“Jamie!” Carrie hissed, her eyes flashing. “You can't just barge in here when I'm working. You need to leave right now–”

“This was a total coincidence,” Jamie insisted, tapping on her screen and sliding her phone back into her pocket. She beamed at me, shaking my hand. “Hi, I'm Jamie, Carrie's sister. I see you've met my son, Jackson, too. I'm one of your biggest fans –”

“Please. You've never watched a sports game in your life –”

“Oh, I know you.” Jackson spoke up, looking real pleased with himself. “You're the man on that cereal box!”

“Yup, that's me.”

“I tried it one time, but it was really bad. You should go tell your cereal bosses that there's way too many sugars in there, and it's bad for you. Maybe you can tell them to fix it, and maybe I'll give it another chance.”

“Jackson!” Jamie wrapped her arms around her son and lifted him off the table. “Don't –”

“That's okay,” I laughed. “Duly noted, buddy. That's some good advice. I'll be sure to let my cereal bosses know when I can.”

“Okay, maybe we better go,” said Jamie, gulping. She took Jackson's hand, leading him away. “We'll see you guys later. So nice meeting you!”

“Bye, Kingsley!”

“Likewise. Catch ya later, Jackson.”

The door jingled as Jamie and Jackson left Angelo's. Carrie clapped her hands over her mouth. She shook her head, exhaling loudly.

“I'm so, so sorry about that. That was highly unprofessional, and I swear to you that wasn't planned. Don't worry, I'll make sure Jamie deletes the video –”

“It's fine. I don't mind. People are pretty crazy when it comes to social media these days. I've seen worse.” I folded my fingers, drawing circles on my palm with my thumb. “What does Jackson have?”

“To tell you the truth, we don't know. Jackson's always had an awfully weak immune system, and it's only gotten worse. 2 years ago, he started getting random seizures and these horrible vomiting episodes. It got so bad that once, Jamie walked into Jackson rolling around in his crib, nearly choking to death on his own vomit. We've been to several hospitals, and Jackson's got all the doctors stumped.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“On the bright side, he's always been a fighter, and he seems to be getting better lately. But we still take him to Bellevue every Tuesday for a checkup, just in case.”

“That can't be cheap,” I mused. “What about your folks? Are they helping out?”

“They've never met Jackson. Our parents died in a car crash when I was 21, 4 months after I graduated. I've been looking after all 3 of us ever since.”

“I see.”

I caught Carrie's lip trembling and her eyes glazing over for a moment, but she quickly snapped out of it.

“Enough about that. Like I said, I'm conducting the interview.”

“Right.” I pulled out my vibrating phone and unlocked the screen. As soon as I saw Ivanka's name on the new message, I rose to my feet. “Yeah, listen, I gotta run.”

“What? Right now?” Carrie's nostrils rounded. “But we haven't –”

“AloAlo!” I called over my shoulder as I headed for the door. “Later, nark!”

Chapter Six:
Carrie

As I was hustling up the walkway to the entrance of Bellevue, my phone started going off in my purse. I hunted inside the tote bag for my phone while balancing 3 mango smoothies on a cardboard drink tray. All the while, the inappropriate tunes of House of Pain's “Jump Around” was getting steadily louder. So when I finally spotted my phone, I dove for it and quickly answered. I didn't even give myself time to roll my eyes at Wattana's name flashing on the screen.

“
Toussaint. What's taking you so long to pick up?
”

“Sorry. What's up, Mrs. Wattana?”

“
Have you checked the front page of The Daily Dirt yet?
”

“No. Sorry, I'm supposed to meet my nephew for his –”

“
A simple no would have sufficed. I don't care what you do with your day.
” Wattana forced a soft cough on the other end of the line.
“I don't know how you did it, but your article on The AloAlo Hope Foundation was a hit.
”

“You're kidding me.” I slowed my pace as I crossed the lobby towards the elevators. I was genuinely stupefied. “It was?”

“
Trust me, I'm just as shocked as you are. Your story's as boring as a box, but it's trending on the front page, and it's been shared over 18,000 times on Facebook alone. I've clearly underestimated Kingsley Kelly's fan base. Looks to me like his followers would eat the grass off his cleats if he asked them to.”

I chewed on my tongue. Sighing, I punched the “Up” arrow on the elevator buttons. I knew where this was going.

“You know, it could be my top notch journalism –”

“Don't make me laugh, Toussaint. My botox is still setting in. If your substandard, touchy-feely story on Kingsley generates this much traffic, imagine the pandemonium if you ventured into the dark side. After all, no one can resist a scandal – especially one juicy enough to ruin his career...
”

As much as I detested the guy, Wattana's nonchalance was unnerving.

“Aren't the stories about Kingsley's sexual debauchery getting just a tad bit old?” The elevator had arrived, but I stood in place, shackled by the call. “Plus, I've got other players to focus on –”

“
You're right. This article needs to be more than just 800 words – save it for last. And we need a new angle. Drugs, gambling addiction, unpaid debts – something criminal will do just fine. I'm sure you'll find something.
”

“But –
”

“
No buts, I've made up my mind. Don't let me down.
”

“I – yeah, okay.”

“And Toussaint?”

“Yes?”

“
Good job.
”

Wattana uttered it in the lowest tone she could muster, but I heard it loud and clear. Better yet, I sensed the strain in her voice, as if it physically pained her to even say it. I straightened up, the corners of my mouth slowly stretching.

“Thanks, Mrs. Wattana, I –”

The line went dead. Still wholly satisfied, I slid my phone in my pocket and punched the “Up” button a second time. I entered the elevator, selecting the Pediatrics wing on the 8
^th
floor.

When I got to Pediatrics, I found Jamie and Jackson by the nurse's station. Jamie was leaning against the counter, gabbing away with the nurses. Jackson was seated on a stool next to the counter, swinging his feet as he picked at the cotton taped to his inner arm.

“Afternoon, ladies.” I set the tray down on the counter, handing 2 mango smoothies to the nurses and the last one to Jackson.

“Isn't that nice.” Nurse Samantha gushed, pecking me on the cheek.

“You're spoiling us, Carrie.” Nurse Tim agreed, reaching over the counter to do the same. 

“Thank you, Aunt Carrie.” Jackson joined in. He slurped his smoothie happily.

“My pleasure, guys. So, how did everything go?”

“Great! Jackson is such a big boy, he didn't even flinch when Nurse Samantha drew his blood today. Isn't that right, sweetie?”

“Yup,” said Jackson proudly. He stuck out his chest and kicked his feet. “I didn't even look away this time.”

“That's super cool, Jackson.” I laid a hand over his shoulder, squeezing him.

“I think you did such a good job today, you deserve 2 lollipops.” Nurse Tim reached for the jar of multicolored candies under the counter. “Go ahead, Jackson, take your pick.”

“No thank you. Keep your lollipops. I'm a big boy now. In class, I learned that too many sugars isn't good for our bodies.”

“You are so right. My mistake.” said Nurse Tim, tickled.

“And guess what,” said Jamie, producing her phone. “Jackson's picture's already got 83 likes! Isn't that cool, sweetie?”

“Not really, I –” Jackson slanted his head to the side, looking around his mother. He jumped off his stool excitedly, his hair flopping on his forehead. “Kingsley! You're here!”

“What?” I wheeled around, my eyes popping wide open.

Sure enough, Kingsley was swanking up the hallway towards us, holding a plain black package. His slouchy beanie and tinted clubmaster Ray Bans did little to nothing to disguise him – if that was what he was getting at, but I highly doubted it. I reckoned that Kingsley was aware the article had gone viral, too, and was now just looking for another surefire way to keep that halo on his forehead. But when I searched around him, there didn't seem to be a single camera or media vulture in sight.

“Oh my God, it's Kingsley Kelly.” Nurse Samantha latched onto Nurse Tim, fanning herself.

“Hey, gang.” Kingsley waved at the hyperventilating nurses.