Page 199 of Tangled with the Tight End

After dinner, I call the car to pick me up. Winona offers to drive me, and I tell her I want her to relax. Truth is, I don’t want her out and about where people might take more photos to use against us.

The next morning, I wake to my phone ringing. It’s Kate.

“Hey,” I say, rubbing my eyes and sitting up.

“They went further,” she says. “I just want you to know.”

“Further how?” I ask, already knowing who the they is—the media and the social media trolls.

“The latest posts are all calling her Plain Jane.”

“Okay.” I don’t love that—at all—but it’s not horrible. We already had the insinuation that she’s with me for my money. That’s more of the same.

“And … they found out about her business. Winona for Hire.”

I grind my teeth hard enough that I could crack one. Something about Winona’s business feels even more private than someone photographing her at her house. She built Winona for Hire. It’s so her—diverse, caring, jumping in where she’s needed, bringing something special wherever she goes.

“The media is having a field day with this. Social media is worse. I’m sending you a post right now.”

My phone pings. I click the link.

A woman’s sitting on her bed with a photo of Winona on the screen. “She’s for hire, folks. Odd jobs. Whatever.” She wags her brows and laughs. “Did Declan O’Connell hire her? And what does superstar tight end, Declan O’Connell, see in this plain-Jane nurse’s aide? Women are lining up to hear his answer … and to take her place.”

I practically growl.

“I wouldn’t normally flag things for you to see, but it’s worse if you’re blindsided. You’ll be asked about this. It’s my job to get you into a headspace where you can face reporters without any reaction.”

I don’t say anything. My breath comes in ragged gulps.

I blow out one long breath so I can get a hold of myself.

“She doesn’t know about this yet,” I finally say.

“No. But you need to make her aware, Declan.”

“What should I do, Kate?”

“There’s not much you can do. Say, No comment, to any reporters. Keep your cool. This will pass.”

Yeah. It will pass—like a tornado that tears through homes, leaving wreckage in its wake. And then what? Another tornado season comes the following year. Winona will always be in the path of the storm as long as she’s in my world.

Chapter 33

Winona

It's not what's under the Christmas tree that matters,

it's who's around it.

~ Charles M. Schulz

I wake to bright light pushing through the slit between my curtains. When I pull them back, I squeal and shout, “Cass! Snow! It snowed!”

Cass shows up in my doorway with a mug of hot coffee.

“Christmas coffee,” she announces, handing me the mug.

“A white Christmas!” I say, leaning in to give her a hug. “I always feel like magical things will happen when it snows on Christmas.”