Catching Cameron: A Love and Football Novel (17 page)

“Who’s your favorite Shark?”

“Drew McCoy,” both women said in unison.

“He’s gorgeous,” Serena said.

“I love his hair,” Marcella said. “I want to run my fingers through it.”

“I heard he’s single,” Serena told the camera.

“I’ll make sure to ask him about that later. Thanks, Serena and Marcella. It looks like practice is about to get underway, so we’ll bring you some more Sharks fan interviews later. This is Cameron Ondine for PSN.”

She shut off the video on her iPad, and reached out to shake hands with the two women again. “Thank you so much for the interview.”

“That was
it
? Aren’t you going to ask us a few more questions?” Marcella demanded.

“I may come back to you later. Thanks again, ladies.”

She walked away as quickly as her legs could carry her. She’d spied three little boys in Sharks jerseys pressed up against the fence on the far end of the field. She wanted to talk with them before any other media member got to them first.

Z
ACH RAN OUT
onto the field with a few of his teammates. Practice didn’t officially start for another twenty minutes or so, but a little extra time to stretch beforehand wouldn’t hurt anyone. He could hear Sharks fans yelling his name and cheering, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the slight figure in red with the blonde ponytail on the sidelines, crouched down in front of three little boys. Zach noted with a smile that one of them was wearing a replica of his jersey, which meant the kid was getting an autograph, and maybe a hug, or perhaps he would even be boosted up onto Zach’s shoulders for a photo later. He
loved
seeing people in his jersey, which meant those fans always got a little extra attention from him. He saw Cameron producing paperwork out of her tote bag, which she handed to what must have been their proud fathers. It was most likely some kind of release; the kids were underage, and her network probably required it. Her cameraman was standing next to her, filming her interaction with the kids. He’d seen the guy sprinting through the practice facility five minutes before.

The three little boys tugged on her pants leg and pointed at the field as they talked to her. He wished he could hear what they were telling her. There would be an autograph session for the younger fans after practice. He and his teammates knew they’d have to keep an eye on the smaller kids in line; adults would cut right in front of them or shove them aside in their zeal to get autographs that often went for sale on eBay within minutes of those same fans leaving the practice facility.

He lowered himself to the turf a few feet away from Cameron, eavesdropping shamelessly. He began the gentle stretches he’d learned in the yoga class the Sharks participated in once a week. He heard the high-pitched voices of young boys.

“Dad! Dad! There’s Reed! He’s my favorite.”

“Maybe he’ll throw the ball over here, son.”

“Cameron, do you know him?”

“Sure,” he heard Cameron say. “He looks forward to meeting his fans. Maybe he’ll sign your football later. What do you think of that?”

“I brought it with me. See?”

“That’s great,” she told him. He could hear the smile in her voice.

Zach saw the camera guy get on one knee. He couldn’t hear Cameron’s questions any more over the din of the rest of his teammates running out onto the field, and the cheers and clapping of the fans who now packed the hillside overlooking the field. No matter how long he lasted in the league, he’d never get used to the fact that several thousand people showed up to watch training camp practices.

He heard feminine voices shouting, “Zach. Zach! Over here!” He glanced up to see his four sisters beaming at him.

His sisters were ensconced on a blanket a few yards behind the portable fence, all wearing his jersey, and all waving at him. To see them together at any event was a big deal now. No matter how busy they were with school and their own lives, though, at least one of them was at every home game for him. He waved back, grinned at them, and Shelby blew him a kiss.

“We love you,” Courtney shouted. “Go Sharks!”

“I love you, too. Talk to you later,” he called out to them. His defensive line coach blew the whistle, and he ran over to his teammates.

C
AMERON FINISHED WHAT
she knew was an adorable interview with the three first-grade Sharks fans and their dads, and glanced over at the four college-age women wearing what she knew were probably game-worn Anderson jerseys from UVA and Zach’s pro career. The jerseys were knee-length on the women. They must be his sisters, whom she’d never met.

Zach had fiercely guarded their privacy over the years. She’d seen a few candid photos on sports websites and Twitter, but she’d never seen them interviewed before. They were old enough by now to consent to be filmed. She wondered which of her colleagues was reckless or crazy enough to try to ask them some questions.

Logan stepped closer to her as he moved his camera back and forth, panning the crowd.

“Have you seen Kacee?” Cameron asked. “I’ve been calling her for two days now. Where is she?”

Logan shuffled his feet and didn’t meet Cameron’s eyes. “I haven’t seen her, either.”

“Did she go back to New York?”

Logan finally met her gaze. “Nope.” His lips formed a bloodless line. “She’s doing a ‘special project’ for Ben.”

“What kind of special project might that be? She’s supposed to be helping out with my stuff. Come on. I have the right to know what’s going on.”

From the way Logan was acting, he knew more than he was telling her. He wasn’t sharing. She considered him a friend. When did they start keeping secrets from each other?

He spread his hands wide. “That’s all the info I have right now. Whatever it is, she can’t hide from us forever.”

Cameron felt the hair on the back of her neck rising. Something was wrong. Ben had his own assistant—actually, several assistants. She couldn’t imagine what Kacee could be doing for him, unless it was personal. Ben wasn’t immune to the charms of a younger woman, but he’d sat through the same sexual harassment seminars she had, and he’d never done or said anything inappropriate to her while she’d been with PSN.

Cameron’s phone vibrated, and she pulled it out of her pocket. It wasn’t Kacee.

“Come on,” Logan said to her. “Zach Anderson’s sisters are over there. Maybe we should introduce ourselves to them.”

She reached out to pull him back.

“Are you sure? He’ll freak out. The guys from CBS Sports tried to talk to his grandma on-camera last year and Zach wouldn’t talk to them for the rest of the season. We need to leave them alone,” she said. “Tom Reed’s wife will talk with us. Let’s ask her how she feels about getting asked for her autograph at football practice.”

The quarterback’s tall, stunning blonde wife was standing several feet from the Anderson family. Sure enough, she was signing autographs and posing for photos with thrilled Sharks fans. A younger woman, probably their nanny, was wrangling three boys who looked to be kindergarten age.

“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.

Z
ACH 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.

C
AMERON 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.