Page 32 of Honkers Under the Holly

He just grinned and opened the door. “The truth. Sort of. A better version of it.”

“Tommy!”

But he was already gone, leaving us staring at each other in the sudden quiet.

“Should we be worried?” I asked Mac.

“With Tommy? Always.”

Another knock, more insistent. “Mr. Frayzer’s fiancée? Comment on the photos?”

I slammed the door on the jackass misogynistic reporter.

Mac pulled me close. “I don’t know what the hell Tommy is about to do, but whatever happens, we face it together.”

“Together,” I agreed, and somehow it felt like a bigger promise than our fake engagement ever was.

Now we just had to hope Tommy’s “better version” of the truth didn’t make everything worse.

The press room was a mob scene. From our spot in the back, Mac and I watched Tommy take the podium, still in his grass-stained jersey, the MVP trophy gleaming beside him. Camera flashes erupted like lightning.

“Mr. Frayzer! Comment on the photos?—”

“Is it true that your fiancée?—”

“How long has the affair?—”

Tommy held up a hand, and somehow that cocky grin of his silenced the room. “First, let me say something about being MVP?—”

“What about the photos of your fiancée with your agent?”

“Actually,” Tommy’s grin widened, “that’s a funny story. See, Sara Jayne’s not my type.”

The room erupted again. Mac’s hand found mine in the chaos.

“And more importantly,” Tommy continued, “she’s exactly Mac’s type. Has been since the day he chased a goose through a beer tent at Oktoberfest for her.”

My heart stopped. Started. Stopped again.

“What are you saying?” someone called out.

“I’m saying my best friend and agent is an idiot who wouldn’t know how to tell a girl he’s in love with her if his life depended onit. So yeah, I might have orchestrated a little something to push him in the right direction.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. I felt Mac tense beside me.

“You’re claiming the engagement was fake?”

“I’m claiming,” Tommy leaned into the mic, “that you all need to pay better attention. Show me one photo—just one—of me and Sara Jayne together without Mac. Go ahead, I’ll wait.”

The furious tapping of phones filled the room.

“While you’re searching,” Tommy continued, “let me tell you about my best friend. The guy who, when he knew his own chances of getting into the League were over, became an agent to help the rest of us fulfill that dream. Who believed in me when I was nothing but a karaoke disaster with a bad reputation. Who fell in love with a girl and her rescue goose but was too scared to admit it.”

“But the proposal video—” someone started.

“Was me being a supportive friend. Which, by the way, is what you should all be focused on right now. Did you see that game-winning drive? That’s the actual story here. That, and the fact that sometimes it takes a village—or in this case, a very smart goose—to get two people to admit what everyone else already knows.”

The room had gone quiet, phones forgotten.

---