After being cheated on by their long-term partners, can a pro-wide receiver and a PR agent remain friends with benefits without falling for each other?
I've been in love with Ava since I was fifteen. She was my first, my only, my everything, destroy...
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The whole room's blank faces stared. My heart pounded like a drumline as I waited for some response. Something, anything.
"Wow." Pat spoke first, which I appreciated until he said, "So, this why you're on a horse."
"I-what?" I scrunched my nose. Horse? Did he say horse?
The slide of his phone over the glossy table brought it near my left hand, and I frowned at another story with my face superimposed over a woman in a bridal dress on a galloping horse.
Eric, Gail's assistant, flashed the same photo on his phone. "This horse."
The bobbing heads and more phones revealed more horse pictures. If it weren't for the circumstances, my head pasted at an unnatural angle on a horse-riding body would've made me laugh.
"There's no horse. Or cold feet. More...saving myself."
"Not again." Gail huffed and rolled her eyes. "Why can't they keep it stuffed in their pants?"
Again? My jaw slacked. This wasn't news? Her lack of surprise wasn't computing. Neither was the 'here we go again' disdain murmured with narrowed eyes and loud breathing.
No one was surprised.
"I'm sorry, Maya," Amy, team lead for film edits, gave me a sad smile. "You have no idea how many cheating scandals we're asked to deny or bury."
"Kind of nice getting the truth upfront," Pat muttered. "Sorry."
When the table hummed in agreement, Mr. Peterson hid a smile behind his hand. He knew this would be the reaction.
Amy pushed her chair back with a groan. "Someone needs to contact Legal."
Her words were a sledgehammer in my chest. Litigation headaches weren't the first impression I wanted, being a problem, a headache, and a distraction from work. Dev camp ended in a month, so everyone was buried in developing preseason and opening season promo materials.
Our boss' gaze met mine. "I agree, but it's Maya's call."
My call. The weight of the room's decision converged on me. I think they were silently cheering for me.
What did I want? Suing for slander seemed overkill. "I want it to go away."
"Legal it is." Mr. Peterson nodded. "Maya, lay low. The rest of you know which fires to put out."
After scrapes of chairs, everyone scattered. Numb, my feet carried me to my desk, where Pat's eagerness for gossip faded into sympathy.
"I'm sorry, Maya."
"Thanks." I gathered my belongings with shaky fingers. "Me too. See you Monday."
The original two stories were removed before I arrived home, but seven news sites chomped at the gossip bite. Ignoring trashy, vivid portrayals of me was impossible. Each one spread the poison of character defamation.
