I start. “Both of us?”

“Yes. Mr. Dawson will need to deny the relationship as well. He hasn’t made a single statement to the press. And there are new reports you were in his home state of Nebraska for the American holiday of Thanksgiving. No one wants to look at a stiff photo of you and Charles—pardon the characterization, but that seems to be the general consensus—rather than read about that. If the media continues to spread romantic, false stories, it will draw out the coverage for longer and longer. We’ll be battling against it until the wedding itself. High-profile stories like these take on a life of their own. Think of it like a tree. You need to remove the roots or else it keeps growing and growing.”

“Can’t we just deny this false story?” my mother asks. “Reemphasize it was not a serious relationship? It seems like a statement will just draw more attention to it. Indulge and reward the press.”

Anne opens her mouth to reply, but I speak first. “The story isn’t false.”

“What?” My mother and Anne sport twin expressions of horror.

“The trip to Jace’s hometown for Thanksgiving. It’s not a lie. It really happened. We can’t deny it.”

“Security reports state you spent the Thanksgiving break on campus,” Richard says, raising his eyebrows.

“I know. I lied to my agents.” I look to my parents. “It’s how I really met Jace’s family. I didn’t think there was any way the press would find out about it. That’s why I lied to you. I didn’t want to upset you even more. I’m sorry.”

Silence follows my announcement.

“Then it’s even more important we get ahead of this,” Anne finally states. “We need to get him here by next week, if possible.”

“Get who here?”

“Mr. Dawson,” Anne replies.

“Have Jace come here?” I ask, shocked. “Why?”

“I can’t control the American press. Any interview needs to take place here, so I can make certain it goes smoothly.”

“He can’t come here. He’s just starting his first season! The last thing he needs is to come here and be subjected to more media scrutiny.”

Anne raises her eyebrows. “We don’t have a choice at this point. If we don’t kill this story, you won’t be able to do a single interview again without a mention of Jace Dawson. There’s hardly a paper in the country that hasn’t made some mention of you two, and that’s based off a video that’s less than two minutes long!”

JACE

I’m just about to leave the locker room when I’m pulled aside by one of the equipment managers.

“Mr. Fairfax would like to see you,” he tells me.

“The team owner?” I ask, surprised. I’ve only spoken to him once before, after I was first drafted and arrived in South Carolina.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” I follow him upstairs to the plush offices that house the Sharks’ management. We stop in front of the corner office. I knock, and a man’s voice calls out, “Come in.” I open the door to reveal John Fairfax sitting behind an elaborate wooden desk.