When I arrive at the studio where the ad is being filmed, Jeremy is already there waiting. He eyes the agents behind me apprehensively.

“I know I gave you a hard time before, Dawson, but I hope this works out for you,” he tells me.

“Thanks, Jeremy.”

All I have to do for the ad is sit and drink the sports drink that it’s for, and I almost feel guilty about the amount of money they’re paying me for this. It’s the only reason I agreed to do it. They ask me to take off my shirt for the final few shots, and I grin at the prospect of telling Viv. Maybe I’ll simply surprise her. Give her a framed copy.

I’m leaving the studio when I get a call from Cooley.

“Hey, man,” I answer.

“Hey! Are you back in South Carolina?” he asks.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“It’s all over the team fan accounts.”

“Hopefully not rallying to run me out of town? I figured I’d be public enemy number one on those.”

“Nope, you’re still annoyingly popular. Left for love, and all that. Are you coming to the game tonight?”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I admit.

“You should come, Dawson. I’ll have a suite reserved. Give them my name if you decide to come.”

“Okay, thanks,” I respond. “Good luck later.”

“Thanks,” Cooley replies before hanging up.

My security team and I head to the hotel. Viv has a fundraiser she’s attending tonight, so I don’t bother calling her. I eat dinner and watch television for a while instead. It’s long after my body is used to going to sleep, but I don’t feel tired. I glance at the clock. The Sharks game starts in a half hour. I pick up my phone and call Marcus, the reserved middle-aged man who is the head of my security detail on this trip. He answers immediately, the same way Michael always does.

“Mr. Dawson?”

“I’d like to go out,” I request. “To a football game.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line. Finally, “Very well, sir. We’ll have the car pulled up outside.”

When I arrive downstairs, the white SUV we’ve been using today is already waiting. I can see three agents sitting in the car, while the remaining two stand outside, holding up a phone they’re listening to intently. One of them catches my eye and gestures I should get into the car. I comply.

“What are they doing?” I ask the agents in the car once I’m inside.

“They’re speaking with Princess Vivienne’s security team,” one answers.

“What? Why?” I ask, panicked. “Did something happen?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” another agent assures me. I think his name is Tom. “It’s just they attended a game at this stadium over the summer. We…want to ensure we’re navigating the building as efficiently as possible.”

“Oh,” I respond, feeling guilty for all the trouble this outing is causing. “You know, I’m fine not going if you guys think it’s too dangerous. Or too complicated.”