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“I agree with her,” Tucker says, his eyes staying on Frankie. “We need to all step away and think it through. I also need a chance to really talk to Cameron about what the article says. If there’s any truth to it, then we need to know.”
“So, you don’t know if he’s innocent.” Mark’s tone makes me shudder.
“I do know that he’s not the man Lacey portrayed him to be. However, that doesn’t mean there aren’t some snippets of some truth in there—we need to know what those are. The point I’ve been trying to make is that we don’t want to run into this situation blindly.”
“Okay, then we won’t,” Frankie says with a sigh. “I want everyone to go home this evening, read the article—dissect it—and then once Tucker and Mark have put together a response plan, we’ll meet up again and discuss it. Hopefully, we can all agree on something.”
Hopefully.
Because based on what I’m seeing right now, no one agrees on what the right thing to do is in this situation. The tension could be cut with a knife, and I’m right smack dab in the middle of it.
“We need to have all the facts and a plan in place before the game this weekend,” Mark says, still standing. “Because if there does turn out to be any kind of sustenance to this, I don’t want him playing. It’ll make us look bad.”
“And we don’t want that,” Tucker grumbles under his breath.
I nearly laugh at the remark, struck by the candid way Tucker is with the PR team. It’s no wonder that Cameron chose him as his lawyer. They have similar personalities.
“Well, I guess that’s that, then,” Frankie grumbles. “Let’s break for the night. We’ll plan to meet again tomorrow evening after practice. I’ll make sure Cameron’s at that meeting.”
Everyone pushes their chairs back from the table, and I wait for most of them to clear the room before I get up. Tucker does the same, and I can’t help myself as the room clears. “Do you think he treated Lacey Reign the way the article portrayed?”
Tucker looks over at me and sighs. “I really don’t think so. She was trouble from the very beginning—everything she did seemed to be motivated by fame. Though I’ve gotta say, I never expected her to stoop this low. She basically just smeared his name.”
I nod. “It’s bold to come out and say that he screamed at her all the time.”
“And making him out to be a narcissist is a pretty big strike,” Tucker adds, running his fingers through his dark caramel hair. “This, paired with the public fight, could ruin his career. I don’t understand it. I’ve known Cameron since we were kids, and he’s never exhibited that kind of personality disorder.”
I feel slight relief at his words, but given the fact that the entire reason I’m even working with Cameron is because he punched someone—there’s still some lingering doubt…
“It’s just that … I don’t know if I can continue to represent someone who—”
“Please don’t jump to conclusions. I know what it seems like, but you’ve been getting to know Cam. Make your own assessment.”
“Okay,” I say carefully. “I just...”
“He’s destroyed over the article, Nila. It was a punch to the gut. Give him a little grace.” Tucker’s expression remains stone-cold, and I suppose that must be the lawyer in him. “Are you hungry?”
I bite down on my lip. “Um...”
“It’s not a date,” Tucker clarifies. “It’s just dinner. I don’t have time for a relationship right now.”
I laugh, though I’m not sure it’s the right reaction. “I’ll take your word for it, but honestly, I’m exhausted. It’s been a long night. I was out with Cameron and his friends when all this happened.”
“Fair enough. Did he seem torn up about it then?”
“He left too soon for me to tell,” I admit, pulling out my phone to book another Uber back to the hotel.
“I can at least give you a ride back to the hotel,” Tucker offers with a shrug. “Oh, and I hope you’re not expecting to go back home to New York anytime soon. If anyone is going to be able to help us recover after this mess, it’ll be you. You know how to manipulate social media to combat these kinds of things.”
I smile, but the confidence isn’t there. “I’ve never handled something like this.”
“Well, it’s the hardest cases that make us better at our jobs.” He leads the way to a Mercedes, parked a couple of rows back. I guess my silence was my acceptance of the ride. I’m so tired at this point that I’m willing to give in.
Tucker opens the passenger side door for me, and I slide in just as my phone goes off. I glance down at the message, surprised.
Cameron: How’d the meeting go?
I purse my lips together, unsure of how to answer—or what he’s fishing for. My fingers hover over the keyboard, but eventually, as the car pulls out of the parking lot, I finish my response.
