“That’s nuts. Why are they asking for her autograph?” Logan said.
“Her lasagna recipe got over a million hits on the Sharks’ website. Everyone here loves her.”
Cameron started toward Megan Reed. She’d have to pass Zach’s sisters to get there. She felt someone reach out to grab her sleeve.
“Logan, what was that?” she said.
It wasn’t Logan. A young woman with Zach’s eyes, full lips and dark-blonde hair held onto her jacket. She was strong. Cameron almost crashed into the portable fence as a result.
“Whitney, don’t,” one of Zach’s sisters called out. “Get back over here and sit down.”
“Do you have a minute?” Whitney said to Cameron. Her eyes narrowed to slits. There were two spots of color high on her cheeks. She continued to clutch Cameron’s sleeve.
“I’m working right now,” Cameron said. She told herself to smile despite the fact Whitney was glaring at her. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m Whitney Anderson,” the young woman said. “Zach’s little sister. I know what you did to him. My sisters won’t say anything to you, but I will.” She stared into Cameron’s eyes. “Leave him alone.”
“I’m not bothering him.”
“You’re here, which is bothering him. You should go somewhere else.” She gave her head a quick shake. “I don’t like you. You hurt him, and you never apologized.”
Cameron felt like Whitney had slapped her. She had no idea how to respond. She thought the incident with the NFL Network colleague sneering over her and Zach’s marriage would be the most embarrassing thing to happen to her this morning. No such luck. She was reeling, and she needed to hold it together long enough to get somewhere she could regroup for a minute or two.
All three sisters were up off the blanket by now and at the fence. One of them wrapped her arm around Whitney’s shoulders and said, “Come on, Whit. Let’s go sit down. This isn’t our business.”
“Move it. Now,” the only sister with dark hair said to Whitney.
“Let’s go, or we’re going to have to leave. Zach will be pissed because you’re talking to a reporter.”
Some of the other fans were loudly complaining because Zach’s sisters were blocking their view of the field. Cameron pivoted away from the sisters, walking as fast as she could to the area behind a small set of bleachers. She’d be concealed from prying eyes for a few minutes until she could get herself together. Logan trailed her.
“Are you okay, Cam?” he asked.
“I’ll be right with you,” she said. “Please, give me a minute.”
She closed her eyes, took several deep breaths, and tried to force herself to stop shaking. The look in Whitney Anderson’s eyes was chilling. She hated Cameron, and they’d never met before. Cameron had had to grow a thick skin since she worked in the media; there were people who would say nasty things to her while she did her job just to get a reaction. But this was personal.
Logan swung the camera off his shoulder and patted Cameron on the back. “Shake it off,” he said. “She’s a kid. She’s just trying to stick up for her brother.”
“She doesn’t know what happened.”
“She heard Zach’s version.” He rested a hand on the edge of the bleachers and bent over her. “Why do you care what she thinks?”
It would be difficult at best to explain her tangled, confused feelings about Zach. It upset her that someone who knew nothing about her couldn’t stand her; she’d only heard one side of the story. Ultimately, she needed to get back to work. Practice wasn’t going to wait until she managed to regroup.
She’d go talk to Megan Reed, and she’d locate more Sharks fans who wanted to be interviewed. She could stew over the incident with Zach’s sisters later.
ZACH GLANCED AT the sidelines to find Cameron talking with not one but all four of his sisters, and his sisters didn’t look happy about it. It was all Zach could do to resist the impulse to storm across the field and break Cameron’s co-worker’s camera. She knew his sisters were off-limits to the media at all times. So what did she do? She sashayed right over to them.
Trying to explain why he didn’t talk to her for ten years was a huge mistake, he realized with a shock. He might still be interested in her—God knew why; maybe he was a glutton for punishment—but she would exploit him and his family for PSN if he gave her the chance. He’d wanted to believe she wouldn’t do this to him. When would he learn? Plus, he saw the look on his little sister’s face when Cameron was talking to her. Whitney looked angry. He could only imagine what Cameron had said to her.
If that guy had his camera on, Zach would sue.
He’d done everything in his power to protect his family from the press. He couldn’t believe Cameron thought he’d backed off that stance one iota since their chit-chat last night. He didn’t have time right now, though, to set her straight. He was too busy blocking the shit out of whoever on the Sharks’ offensive line was stupid enough to appear in his line of vision. Fear and hurt weren’t options for him when he wore a Sharks uniform; there was only aggression.
He broke through the line with a spin move, darted through a hole the size of Renton, WA, and grabbed Tom Reed. Tom wasn’t able to throw the ball away before being dropped to the turf. The Sharks fans responded with a wall of shouts, clapping, and whistles.
Tom rolled over and looked up at the heavily breathing Zach, tapping himself on the chest.
“RED. I’m wearing red. That means you do not tackle me. Got it?”
Zach rubbed his hands over his face. “Yeah. Sorry. I got a little carried away there.”
“Sure.” Tom didn’t look happy. Zach was going to catch it for the mistake later. Right now, though, he extended a hand toward Tom and helped him to his feet.
“I’ll give you a piece of advice,” Tom told him. “You need to spend more time focusing on us and less time staring at her.”
Zach walked away from him without another word.
CAMERON TAPED A short interview with Megan Reed and asked Logan to get a little footage of the Reeds’ angelic-looking blond kids after securing their mother’s permission. Tom’s sons wore cut-down football jerseys and gap-toothed smiles. One clutched a mini-football with his dad’s autograph on it. Megan laid one hand over her barely-there baby bump. Cameron knew Tom Reed was thrilled with their three healthy sons from previous interviews with him, but he longed for a baby girl that looked just like his wife.
“How are you feeling?” she asked Megan Reed when Logan shut off his camera.
“Better than I was last month,” Megan said. “The first three months of my pregnancies are not especially fun, but the last six months are wonderful. Tom talked me into hiring a nanny this time around, though. My mom isn’t coming out from Oklahoma until the baby’s almost here. I just don’t have as much energy as I did before I had Connor.” The youngest Reed hid behind his mother, peering up at Cameron as he did. “Three boys are a challenge, even if I adore them.” She ruffled her son’s hair. He let out a laugh.
An hour and a half later, practice was over. The players were besieged by hundreds of fans looking for autographs and pictures. Logan filmed Cameron giving a short recap they could use later, and she stowed her iPad in her bag as she approached Coach Stewart. A couple of Sharks employees were setting up a team logo and sponsors-covered backdrop closer to the building for the press conference he gave after each practice. She waited until he finished talking with one of the assistant coaches and turned to her.
“Coach, I’d really like to interview you in the next couple of days for NFL Confidential. Do you have a little time in your schedule?”
“There’s a press conference in ten minutes. Would it be possible to ask your questions there?”
“I’d really like some one-on-one time. Is there a way to make this happen?”
He rubbed one hand over his face. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes late this afternoon. I’m thinking closer to dinnertime.”
“Perfect. I’ll m
ake the arrangements.” The Sharks PR department probably knew more about his schedule than he did, so she’d be talking with them about an exact time. She stuck out her hand to shake his. “Thank you so much. Also, congratulations.”
His voice dropped. “I probably don’t need to tell you I wish this had happened another way.”
“Of course not.”
Coaches in the NFL got a promotion because someone else got fired. It was a rough and difficult business. She was a bit surprised he’d mention his misgivings, but she could ask him about it later.
They shook hands again, and Cameron moved off toward the knot of media shouting questions at Tom Reed. She saw Zach approaching her out of the corner of her eye.
“Hey,” he called out. “I need to talk to you.” He wasn’t smiling. Unless she was wrong, he was really mad, and he blocked her from moving any further by standing in front of her.
“Good job on the sack.”
“I don’t care about that. Why the hell were you talking to my sisters? If that guy was filming them, there’s going to be a problem.”
Livid color bloomed on Zach’s face. He folded his arms over his chest. Even more than his obvious anger, she saw hurt in his eyes.
“You know I don’t allow media to interview my sisters, let alone film them. I thought you’d respect that. They came here to see me, not answer a bunch of questions. They deserve their privacy. Of course, you don’t know what that means, do you?” He stared at her. “It’s all about what you want, or what’s going to help your career.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“I might have to put up with this BS, but they don’t. Leave them alone. Got it?” He turned and walked away from her. She ran after him.
“I did not ask for an interview. Your youngest sister grabbed my sleeve as I walked past.”
“Bullshit.”
“Ask Logan. He’ll tell you what happened.”
“The guy who’s filming us right now?” He pointed toward Logan, who stood only feet from them. Even worse, Cameron saw the red light on his camera. It was on.
“Logan, shut it off, please.” Logan shook his head no.
“I’m done talking to you,” Zach said. He increased his pace, and she couldn’t keep up with him.
She whirled on Logan. “What the hell was that? Why were you filming?”
“Ben wants footage.”
“That was personal. Ben doesn’t need it,” she said.
“He told me he wants footage of everything that happens here.”
“He might want footage, but he’s not getting personal conversations. Those are off-limits.”
Logan’s expression didn’t change. “They’re open season now. He’s looking for tape, the more inflammatory the better.” He lowered the camera from his shoulder. “This isn’t your first time at the rodeo, Cam. If you don’t give me anything, then we’ll have nothing to use.”
Logan gave her a nod, and walked away.
ZACH SPENT THE rest of the day avoiding Cameron. He was still angry. Even more, he was hurt. He couldn’t believe he’d opened up to her, and this was how she’d rewarded his confidence. He didn’t feel like hanging out with the guys after dinner, either. If he got a little extra shut-eye tonight, he might feel better tomorrow.
He sat down at the computer desk in his dorm room and opened his laptop to read his e-mail. He was a bit surprised to see an e-mail from his sister Shelby, who typically texted or called him. He clicked on it.
Zach,
Cameron Ondine passed the fence in front of us today while she was working. Whitney jumped up and grabbed her arm before we could stop her. Whitney also said some pretty nasty things to her. Just a heads-up in case she mentions it to you, okay?
We love you and miss you. Grandma sends her love. Butter’s trainer thinks he might need another obedience class after this one.
Love, Shelby
Zach stared at the screen. Finally he dropped his head into his hands. He’d jumped to conclusions. Cameron hadn’t approached them after all. That didn’t mean her co-worker didn’t film them.
He searched every major sports website he could think of, starting with the Sharks’ website. No film or photos of his sisters there. PSN’s site and their NFL blog had nothing as well. There were photos and video of a few of the other people Cameron had met earlier, but nothing about his sisters. He did a Google search. The only photos of his sisters were school or yearbook photos.
Cameron hadn’t lied to him.
He owed her an apology this time around.
Chapter Fourteen
* * *
IT WAS DAY four of training camp, and Cameron was already behind. She needed interviews. She’d had her fifteen minutes with the new head coach yesterday, but his comments weren’t going to fill an hour-long program. She needed to tape her own show tonight, and the only footage she had were the interviews with the two women interested in Drew McCoy and the three little boys. Logan had tipped her off for her own good yesterday. That didn’t mean she wasn’t still angry with him for what she saw as his betrayal of their friendship. Kacee still hadn’t texted her. Maybe she’d been eaten by bears or something. According to Logan, Kacee was fine, so Cameron could stop worrying about her safety. Her anxiety was replaced by irritation. She pulled out her cell phone and texted Ben: DO I NEED TO HIRE A NEW ASSISTANT?
Zach wasn’t speaking to her. She’d tried talking to him at dinnertime yesterday, and he’d walked away from her again. She was back to square one.
Practice wasn’t for another three hours. She had a million and one things to do before taping later, but maybe she needed to go for a run to clear her head. She pulled on yoga pants, a sports bra, t-shirt and cross trainers, stuck her phone and dorm room key in her pocket, and walked into the still-silent hallway. Unfortunately, Zach was leaving his room, too. There was no way to get by him without his seeing her.
He glanced toward her and gave her a nod.
She didn’t smile back, and she sped up in an attempt to pass him through the fire door to the stairway. It didn’t work. He made it to the door before she did, smacked the bar to open it, and took the stairs at a high rate of speed.
They passed through the door on the way to the cafeteria. “Actually, there is something we need to talk about.” He turned to face her. “I was wrong about your approaching my sisters yesterday. I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“I didn’t realize you weren’t approaching them to interview or film. I thought you did. I was mad because I thought I made myself clear—”
“Why would you think I would do that? You told me not to.” She stared up at him in disbelief. “What kind of person do you think I am, anyway? You said you didn’t want your sisters dealing with the press. Did you think I wanted to piss you off?” She let out a huff of breath. “Oh, forget it. Thanks for the apology.”
She took a few steps away from him. He reached out, snagged her elbow, and walked her through the still-silent administrative area. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
“Get what over with? You’re the one who freaked out at me. I appreciate the apology, but I have things I need to do right now.”
His voice dropped. He spoke slowly, like he was addressing a recalcitrant preschooler.
“Your buddy Logan talked to me last night before I went to bed. He says your boss needs footage. We’re going to have breakfast together, we’ll let him film us, and then you can spend the rest of the day dealing with the things you have to do. How about it?”
She opened her mouth to tell him she wasn’t interested, but “I’m going for a run,” came out instead.
“You can run after breakfast.”
Running on a full stomach was never a great thing to do. He should know this.
Zach pulled her into the cafeteria. Logan was sitting at a sun-drenched table in the corner with his camera, sipping a cup of coffee. He raised one hand in a half-wave. Zach gave him a nod as he tugged Cameron into the food line.
A younger woman in a hair net grinned at them. “You’re early this morning, Zach.”
“It’s good to be first. How’s my favorite Sharks fan?” He handed Cameron a tray, a plate, and utensils wrapped in a paper napkin, and grabbed his own breakfast supplies.
The woman in the hair net regarded him like he’d just cured cancer. “I’m fine. I hope you’re having a good day so far, too.”
“Things are great for me. I get to see your smiling face,” Zach said.
The young woman’s eyes sparkled. Of course she was half in love with him, Cameron thought waspishly.
“I’d like another one of those excellent Denver omelets, if it’s not too much trouble. I’m not sure what Cameron would like this morning,” he continued.
Cameron was still staring at the sheer amount of freshly prepared breakfast items on offer to whoever was eating breakfast in the cafeteria this morning. She made a concerted effort to shut her mouth. Again. She hadn’t seen this much food in the college cafeteria, or anywhere since. She managed to recover her voice. “I’d like some scrambled eggs and fresh fruit, please.”
“How about a croissant?” Zach said, and set one on Cameron’s tray.
“I can’t eat that.”
“Croissant or doughnut. Your choice.” He gave the server another nod. “I’m hoping there’s more of those great seasoned potatoes you make, too.”
“I don’t need a croissant or a doughnut—”
Zach was ignoring her while focusing all of his attention on the young woman. She wasn’t sure if she should be jealous or infuriated.
Cameron saw the server blush and smile. “Of course there are,” she said. “Let me get your order started and I’ll be right back.” She sped away from them. Zach grabbed a few pieces of bacon out of the steam table with a pair of tongs and dropped them on his plate.
“I think you need some of this, too.” He reached in for another slice of bacon and laid it onto her plate.
Catching Cameron: A Love and Football Novel Page 14