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I rubbed the back of my neck. “The last few dates, as I dropped her off at her dorm, she’d pause as if she wanted me to kiss her. There were a few times where she’d reach for my hand even though paparazzi were not around to photograph it.”
“Shit.” Filipe whistled. “Last night’s events would have come as quite the shock.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“So not only would she have lost you as a business partner in her attempt to gain a foothold in Hollywood, but when she saw us kissing,” Ciaran said, “she realized you weren’t exactly a viable romantic partner, either.” His tone was filled with empathy when he added, “Poor Zoey.”
Joan scoffed. “You have sympathy for the blackmailer’s daughter?”
Ciaran paused all of a sudden. “Okay, first off, The Blackmailer’s Daughter would make a great title for a book. But I digress,” Ciaran replied. “I’m not saying she’s blameless here, but she’s the least to blame. Can you fault her for hoping Matty might become interested? I don’t mean for this to come across as offensive, and I recognize I’m a recent outsider coming into this glittery world of fame and wealth, but even if Matty is blocked from USA Swimming and unable to compete in the National tryouts, the Vaulteneaus have a billion other ways to make Matty’s dreams come true. I don’t see Zoey having those same options.”
That seemed to mute everyone for several long seconds. Ciaran wasn’t wrong. I might not make the tryouts, and my Olympic dreams might be dashed for a few years, but I’d still be better off than ninety-nine percent of the world’s population.
“So you’re on Zoey’s side?” I asked. It wasn’t an accusation but more a curiosity.
I understood where Ciaran was coming from, but my upbringing meant it wasn’t as easy for me to sympathize with Coach Anderson’s daughter when everything hung on me obeying the Coach’s direction. At least Ciaran’s influence was making me rethink my privilege.
“No,” he answered simply. “I’m on your side and always will be, but that doesn’t mean I won’t call out bullshit when I see it. By putting ourselves in Zoey’s shoes, it will shape our approach in gaining her support. I agree that you should continue to see her, and honor your agreement with Coach Anderson. She’ll never be your girlfriend, but surely friendship isn’t off the table, is it?”
“No, friendship is not off the table,” I said.
Ciaran nodded as if he approved my statement. “Invite her to dinner tonight and explain the situation, one-on-one. I’ll make myself scarce.”
A slight pang made my stomach flip. “What will you do, instead?”
“I need to continue outlining my badger detective novel.” When Joan and Filipe expressed confusion on what that meant, Ciaran explained the plot of the novel he was writing. The idea of a badger detective who solved casino heists had to be the most adorable thing I’d ever heard. By the way Joan and Filipe were responding to the story, they were enthralled, too. I couldn’t wait to read it. Ciaran finished by saying, “If I run into another creative block, I suppose I should call my Vegas friends tonight. I’ve been guilty of ignoring them the last few days.”
Another pang summersaulted my stomach when I remembered that one of his friends was Drew. I had to let that go. I wasn’t used to feeling insecure, but Ciaran did admit that there was baggage with his former flame. It’s nothing, I told myself. He needed to resolve those things, and if that meant talking to Drew, then that’s what Ciaran had to do.
Filipe, who was still digesting the details of Ciaran’s novel, asked, “The detective is an actual badger? That’s not his name?”
Ciaran chuckled. “The actual animal, but he stands on his hind legs and can communicate in both English and the Mustelidea language spoken by weasels, otters, ferrets, and wolverines. It will come in handy for his case.”
“Fascinating,” Filipe said in a tone of wonder. “I can’t even color in the lines and here you are creating a whole world in your head. We could use your detective right about now.” To the rest of us, Filipe asked, “What are we going to ask Zoey to do?”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking about,” I said. “Ciaran’s right: I need to tell her everything. I doubt she knows about the video. Once I explain the situation, I’ll ask her if she’d be willing to delete the video for me. Her answer will let me know how to proceed from there.”
“What if she says no?” Ciaran asked.
“I’m not above arson,” Joan interjected.
“Legal answers, please,” I said, my lips twitching at Joan’s eagerness to rid the world of Coach Anderson’s family. I’m sure it was kindly meant, but I could not give my friend any ideas. “If Zoey refuses to help, then I will still continue to see her to keep the ruse alive. Filipe and I would then find a way to get the Coach’s phone during swim practice and destroy it.”
“There’s always the chance that the video is in the cloud or saved on his computer,” Ciaran supplied.
Filipe and I swiveled our gazes to Joan. Ciaran, noticing, followed suit. “Here’s your chance to shine, Joan,” I said.
Her eyes sparkled. “I’m not above hacking his home network and wiping everything.”
“That’s my girl,” Filipe said in a tone of love and wonder.
“Legal went out the window real quick.” Ciaran looked heavenward. “It’s a good thing I grew up in Las Vegas,” he mumbled, “or I’d be running for the hills by this point.”
“You’re in thick now, my friend,” Joan said. “Plus, it might give you ideas for your novel. Any regrets?”
Ciaran seemed to think about that. I wondered what he was pondering.
He looked at me when he said, “No,” and that’s all I needed to hear to know he was really on my side, as the four of us came up with a game plan.
