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“That’s hardly front-page news,” Zoey said. “The gossip rags are already speculating on your new guy friend.”
She pulled out her phone to show me the pictures from earlier today when Ciaran and I were shopping. It was a good photo in that it showed the two of us smiling at each other before we realized we were being photographed.
The brightly colored text next to the photo said, New flame in Matty Vaulteneau’s orbit?
“Fucking Sal,” I breathed out, cursing the paparazzo’s name. I collected myself. “It doesn’t matter, Zoey. They’ll make up whatever they want.”
“Yeah, well,” she said as she scrolled down to reveal a grainy, long-lens image. “Try this one on for size, Matty.”
I studied the photo of two men sitting astride surfboards. They were kissing out on the water. At first glance, I knew it was me and Ciaran, as that memory was seared permanently into my mind as one of the best kisses of my life. However, the image wasn’t crystal clear, but that didn’t prevent the celebrity gossip website from speculating.
The media made up celebrity gossip all the time.
“Matthias Vaulteneau enjoys a carefree day on the beach with mysterious love interest,” Zoey read the caption. I saw the rest of the caption before she even said it. “Where’s Zoey?”
I downed the rest of my wine. The sommelier had left the wine bottle on the table so we could help ourselves. I refilled my glass and topped off Zoey’s.
“You know how this business works,” I said. “I understand your goals of breaking into Hollywood and making a name for yourself, Zoey. But guess what?” I pointed at her phone, which was lying face up near her plate. “You’re still being talked about.” What I didn’t say was that I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the inside source. “As long as there’s a romantic triangle happening with us, you will be a part of the story. But you’re a smart woman. You want to make a name for yourself, not because you’re my side girlfriend, or whatever it is they’re saying in that stupid article, but because of your own talents and story.”
“What are you saying?”
“You have looks and an excellent pedigree. Being the daughter of an Olympic Gold Medalist is a cool story and upbringing. And I’ve seen your acting. You’re a good actor, Zoey. Don’t throw it all away by stretching out a silly love triangle or being caught in a blackmail scheme. It won’t look good for you when it comes out.”
She scoffed but it didn’t convince me.
“I know what I’m doing, Matthias.”
“Yeah, but you never know what these ‘inside sources’ might disclose,” I said casually. Her eyes shot daggers at me. “These things have a way of coming to the light at some point. I’ll be fine,” I stressed. “That article won’t do a damned negative thing to me. My last name is Vaulteneau. Doors are never closed to me. You, on the other hand…” I trailed off as I reached for a slice of warm bread.
I wanted Zoey to think about the consequences.
“Then do what Coach Anderson tells you, Matthias, and no one has to get hurt,” Zoey said, doubling down. “You’ll get to compete in the Nationals and maybe even qualify at the Olympic Trials this summer. I’ll start landing roles in Hollywood, and Coach will have another star athlete on his roster.”
“Do you always want to be known as my side piece?” I muttered. “In three months the media will pair me with whoever I happen to be standing near.”
She gave that some thought before coming to my way of thinking. “You may have a point, Matthias. I still don’t know what you want me to do about it.”
We paused our conversation as the salads arrived. Zoey waited to see which fork I’d use before she started picking at the leafy greens on her plate.
When we were once again alone, I said, “I presume you know about the video Coach has on his phone?”
Zoey shot me a worried glance. Oh, shit. Was there more than one video on Coach Anderson’s phone?
That thought opened up other possibilities I hadn’t considered before.
Did Coach Anderson have a history of blackmailing his athletes? Fuck. My face fell before I could hide it. I needed to call an emergency team meeting.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zoey offered. Her voice was stoic and self-assured, but I was not fooled.
I started thinking about the future…and not just my future, but my friends on the swim team. I wasn’t team captain this year, but I’d probably be voted captain next year.
Anxiety bloomed in my chest. I couldn’t let Coach Anderson affect their careers, either. He’d been coaching at USC for five years. Five years wasn’t too terribly a long time, so maybe I was his only target.
Leaning forward in my seat, I put my fork down. “How many videos are there?”
She remained tight-lipped for a long moment before she caved.
“A few,” Zoey said with a resigned sigh. “I mean, I know about them, but haven’t actually seen them.”
