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Frankie scribbles something down on a notepad. “I’ll see what they have available.”
“I don’t understand,” Cameron blurts out, his voice laced with frustration. “Isn’t this going to make me look worse? Attending an anger management program is basically admitting that I have a problem. But I don’t. I didn’t even treat Lacey like that.”
My breath hitches. He finally said it himself.
“Yeah, but if we can have a team of professionals confirm that you don’t have anger issues, then we’ll have them release a statement on your behalf. It’ll be a double whammy.”
“She’s right,” I agree with Frankie. “And I’m sure some footage can be taken while you’re there. It’s a little under-the-table tactic, but I think it’ll work. It’s better than pointing the finger at the one who accused you of being a toxic hothead.”
“I’m not a toxic hothead,” Cameron growls, his eyes blazing.
“I didn’t say you were.” I raise a brow. “I said you were being accused of that.”
“Anyway.” Tucker clears his throat. “We’ll have to check the availability. We don’t have time to waste.”
“Then let’s get started on it,” Frankie says. “My team and I will get everything squared away this evening. The rest of you can call it a night.”
Thank goodness.
I push my chair back from the table along with Mark, Cameron, and Tucker—the only people who don’t have to stay.
“Oh, and Nila.” Frankie stops me in my tracks. “I think you should accompany Cameron on the retreat. I need someone with a stellar eye who understands our goals to take care of the footage—it’s best that it’s you. I’ll pay you for the extended time and cover any expenses.”
“She doesn’t need to go,” Cameron jumps in. “I’ll take pictures on my phone or whatever.”
“I don’t trust you,” Frankie says flatly as we leave the room. “She’s going.”
I’m hit with a pang of sympathy in my chest for Cameron. All these people are being really hard on him. I mean, sure, he’s not perfect, and I get that he’s in a PR mess—but he’s not the one who wrote the article. And he just said so himself that he didn’t treat Lacey badly.
Which is exactly what I’ve been waiting to hear.
So, I’m choosing to believe him.
And I want to do whatever I can to help him get through this.
As we exit the building, Cameron is quiet, his face plagued with fatigue and stress.
“It’s going to be fine.” Tucker pats his shoulder. “Even if you have to miss a couple of games, it’s worth it to stay on the team.”
He nods, glancing over at me. “Sorry about all this. I know it’s a huge pain. You should be moving on to your next job by now…”
I shrug. “No, not yet. I cleared my calendar because I wasn’t sure how long this would take.”
I’m not mad about getting to spend a little more time with Cameron. As colleagues, of course. Or … maybe even friends.
“Well, I hope you like the mountains then,” Cameron jokes dryly.
“It’ll be interesting.” Tucker lets out a sigh.
That’s one way to put it.
Chapter Twelve
Cameron
I’m missing multiple practices and games for this crap.
It doesn’t matter that there’s a phenomenal view of the mountains when we pull into the anger management retreat. There’s a blonde woman standing by with a ridiculous smile plastered on her face, ready to greet us. This place is still the definition of miserable—and the more real it becomes, the more I can’t stand the fact I ever agreed to it.
