Escorting the Player (The Escort Collection 3)

Eric met me at the entrance to the conference room. "You okay?" My agent looked a little pale himself, but he seemed to be holding it together. Probably for my sake.

I shrugged. "I'm passable."

Eric looked around. "There's a lot of reporters here."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"You'll be all right. You're Chase Layne." He clapped me on the shoulder.

"Did you tell Avery about this?" I'd been worried she would try to talk me out of it, so I hadn't called her. I missed her so much it was killing me.

"Don't worry. She'll be watching," Eric said.

"I appreciate it. Everything you've done."

He grinned at me and his eyes sparkled. "Especially setting you

up with Avery. I love that I get credit for that, especially because you were giving me so much shit."

"I'm sure I'll be hearing about it from you for the rest of my life."

"You know it," he said as we headed into the room, both of our chests puffed out beneath our best suits.

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. Every single news outlet was here and the crowd was rowdy, buzzing with excitement. It wasn't every day that Chase Layne called an emergency press conference. I nodded at Wes and Tim, the owner, already seated up on the stage.

I climbed up on stage and got behind the podium, smoothing my tie. Wishing it was beer o'clock, I cleared my throat. The room settled quickly. "Ladies and gentlemen, members of the press and management, thank you so much for being here this morning." I swallowed hard as dozens of eager faces—faces I'd known for years—watched me expectantly. "You know I don't often call press conferences…"

One of the reporters I knew raised his hand. "Are you announcing your retirement, Chase?"

I nodded at him. "Hey, Pete. I'll be talking about that, too. But if it's okay with you guys, and ladies, I don't want any questions. Maybe at the end, for a few minutes, but that depends on how well you behave." I grinned at them as I felt the curiosity level rise palpably in the room.

"All right," I continued. "So all of you know a lot more about me than you probably should. You know I'm in the process of getting a divorce. You know that I'm now dating a smart, kind, and beautiful young woman. But what you don't know is the truth about her past." I paused as what felt like a thousand flashes went off.

"I asked you here today so that I could be the one to tell you, and to also ask that you continue to respect my team and my own family's privacy during this time. This will be my final season with the NFL. I was going to wait and announce that later, but it's an important piece of why I'm here today. As you all know, football is my life. I've been looking forward to this season my entire career. I intend to play every game to my fullest, and I intend to win as many games as I can for this team. Because I love this team. This team is my family."

I swallowed again, bracing myself. "I'm sure you're like me—that your family is the most important thing in the world to you. My team is my family, as well as my mom, my agent, and now my girlfriend, Avery. I will fight for my family, and I will always choose to put them first. I've made some mistakes, but I don't regret any of them. Because without those mistakes, I wouldn't be who I am or where I am today."

I scanned the faces in the crowd. "When my wife told me she was filing for divorce and then subsequently started a relationship with one of my teammates, I panicked. You all know I'm a private guy. I like to keep my personal life out of the spotlight, and I was worried about how these personal issues might impact my teammates and our season. So I took the unorthodox step of hiring someone to pretend to be my girlfriend. And that someone was Avery. I thought that having a new relationship would salvage my public image."

To their credit, no one said a word. They looked largely dumbfounded.

Finding courage in the silence, I continued on. "Avery and I signed a contract, and I agreed to pay her a certain amount of money in exchange for her company. I had second thoughts about what I was doing. I thought it was unethical and probably immoral. I was lying and I was asking someone else to lie, and I was paying her to do that. My attorney has assured me this doesn't rise to the level of criminal activity, as it was a private agreement between two consenting adults. We weren't breaking any laws, but I was lying. To all of you."

I took a sip of water and watched the confused, calculating, disbelieving, and furiously texting members of the audience.

"And I lied to Avery. And to myself."

They erupted into questions and I groaned. Then I saw one of my favorite reporters, Suzanne, with her hand up. I could usually count on her to get to the point.

"Go ahead Suzanne." I shot the rest of them a warning look. "And only Suzanne."

"Can you go into more detail about that? About lying to Avery and yourself?" she asked.

"Sure. It's the worst part. It makes me feel sick, and I deserve that." I looked toward the news cameras, wishing I could look into her eyes. "Avery, if you're watching, I want you to know I realized something. I never told you how I felt about you. I'm an idiot, babe. I love you. I've loved you from the moment I met you. Or maybe since the swan boats…or when you first made me lasagna…or that night with all the shots…"

Eric coughed behind me and I shook my head. "The point is, I never told you that I put you first. That's because I'm a jerk. I was putting myself first because I was afraid of what would happen to my career if the truth came out. And it's taken me this long to realize that's not the most important thing. The only thing I care about is you. So this is the public version of my apology. The private one's where I get on my knees and grovel. If you'll let me."

I looked at the press. "The truth is, Avery deserved better than what I gave her. But even if she never forgives me, something good came out of it. I met someone incredible. Someone who's taught me to be a better person."