Page 79 of Scoring Zone
I lean forward and stare him in the eye, choosing my words carefully. “Grayson Ward is my best friend. I’ll do anything for him, but I absolutely did not ask anyone to lie or hide the truth. I hope you know me well enough to take my word on that.”
“I admire your candor and trust your word, but you might have guessed with the appearance of a lawyer that Dumas is pressing charges.” He holds his palms up so I don’t interrupt him. “Based on your account, Brant’s corroboration, and the videotape, the charges will be dropped, eventually. The video shows Dumas as the aggressor. However, he’s the mayor’s nephew, so that complicates things.”
I scrub my hand over my face. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this go away.”
Mr. Dimon narrows his eyes, and I swear he reads my mind. “As you said, you’d do anything for Ward. Will he do the same for you? He had an interesting wardrobe choice today.”
I get the impression we are no longer talking about the incident but life in general. He knows Gray is wearing my clothes or at least my shirt. It could be a laundry mix-up, but I’ll never deny my feelings for Gray.
“Yes, it’s very mutual.” I give him a pointed stare. “We’re a package deal. If he goes, I go. I won’t allow this to take him down.” Gray had no idea it would get this bad. We’ll talk when he gets home. There might be a way for me to take responsibility without contradicting him. Maybe he’ll agree to saying we both hit Dumas.
I expect Dimon to be angry, but he seems to approve with a dip of his chin. “Forward the text you sent Brant to Ward’s lawyer and keep your mouth shut for now. If asked, your only, and I mean only, answer is ‘No comment.’ Finn should have a strategy, and I’ll keep you in the loop.” He stands and so do I.
Ari steps around his desk and places a hand on my shoulder. “Ward’s a good man, and we’ll take care of him.” He hands me a business card for the lawyer.
“Are you sure another version of events won’t fix things?” I choke out. This has gotten so far out of control.
“A late confession by anyone will be seen as a lie or cover-up. You can’t fix everything, and we need you here. Let the lawyers deal with Dumas.”
Gray doesn’t come home for hours.
“Sunshine.” As he walks in, I wrap him in my arms. “I’m so sorry, it’s my fault.”
“It’s not. If you hadn’t hit him, I would’ve. He’s a smarmy little prick.” Gray leads me over to the couch and crawls into my lap. “He reminds me of Richardson.”
“That asshole?” I plunge my fingers into his hair and massage his scalp.
“My lawyer said if Dumas wasn’t the mayor’s nephew, no charges would be filed. But the kid has a black eye, and someone has to pay.” He nuzzles my cheek.
“The team is behind you a hundred percent. They made it their mission to ‘storm the castle,’ as Benz said to show support for you. Everyone said to tell you they’re ready to testify on your behalf if necessary.” My stomach rumbles so loudly it changes the subject.
“Did you eat?” He doesn’t say it, but his intake of breath and mouth falling open show his astonishment at the team’s support. Gray has no idea how much the guys love him.
“Umm.” I can’t admit I was too worried to eat. “Have you eaten?”
“Yeah, the lawyer took me to dinner so we could conference call with Mr. Dimon and she could explain all the procedural shit.” Gray pushes up and drags me with him to the kitchen. “You have to eat no matter how upset you get.”
Gray props me up between the fridge and the stove to make me food.
“You don’t have to do that. I can order something.”
“We both know this will be healthier.” He taps my nose like I’m a child.
“I should be cooking for you,” I grumble.
“That’s not as appealing as you think.” Gray’s grin causes my stomach to flip. “Besides, I can cook and tell you every dirty detail.”
The smell of food makes my stomach rumble, and I rummage in the fridge to find a bag of baby carrots to munch on. It’s well established that I don’t excel at cooking.
“I’ll give you the basic gist, then go into detail. I’m suspended per my contract until the investigation reaches a conclusion.” He blows me a kiss when I make a strangled sound of disapproval. “Mr. Dimon has hired me as a freelance consultant as a workaround, while appearing to agree to Dumas’s demands. I’ll be in the booth watching the games, but I can’t be near the team or anywhere the cameras are. Road games are a no-go, but he’s hoping this gets settled quickly.”
“Why didn’t you let me take responsibility? They can’t fire me,” I lament. “I’ll say we both hit him, and we don’t know who gave him the black eye.”
“Dumas could drag you through the mud and try to tarnish your reputation. He’s a child throwing a tantrum.”
“But I have a reputation as a peacemaker, not a fighter. That’ll help,” I argue.
“He’s using his social media power to his advantage. It’s amazing how a pretty face allows people to get away with shitty behavior.” Gray stirs delicious-smelling chicken and spices.
