From Now Until Infinity (2) (18 page)

Then, I call my father. He’s very short with me and says that we’ll discuss this when I get in the office.

Where’s my coffee? Doesn’t the world know that I can’t function without my three cups of morning coffee? Especially on a morning like this!

I walk downstairs and pour myself a cup ignoring Colin who’s still yelling. I take it back upstairs to drink while I take a shower and get dressed. I presume that it’s going to take a few extra minutes to get through the reporters, and I can’t afford to be late on a surgery day.

The shower spray feels good against my body. I wish Colin was with me in the shower, but I know that he’s too busy yelling about things that he can’t change downstairs. He thinks that this’s going to make me leave him. It’s not. I wish that he could find confidence in our relationship. I wish that he would see that I’m his until infinity. I mean it. Every bit of it. The only way that he is going to find the solace that he needs is for me to prove to him that I’m strong and that I can handle the onslaught of media attention that’s now directly focused on us.

As I’m drying off, he walks into the bathroom. I do a quick read of his body language. He’s angry and scared. I can deal with that. I can’t deal with defeated.

“Why don’t we run at the office this evening? We can use the treadmills,” I suggest.

He looks at me like I have two heads. “Okay,” he says with apprehension in his voice.

“What time are you meeting with the trainers today?” I ask completely ignoring the huge pink elephant in the room.

“After lunch. I’m going to work out with both of them and see how it goes,” Colin replies still cautiously.

“Awesome. Tell them that you’re saving your cardio workout for me,” I reply enjoying my double entendre.

I walk into my closet looking for a dress that makes me look awesome. I decide that if I’m about to be splashed all over the Internet, magazines, and television that I might as well look my best. I choose an aqua blue wrap dress that’s conservative but shows off my curves and some fabulous Jimmy Choo shoes.

When I emerge from the closet Colin is sitting on the edge of my bathtub. “Are we going to talk about this?” He asks cautiously.

“What’s there to talk about? We knew that it was coming. It’s just sooner rather than later. No big deal.” I reply nonchalantly.

“I’ve asked the security that we used last night to watch over you until all of this dies down.” He states.

“What?” I fire back at him. “I don’t need security. They’re just reporters. When’s the last time that a reporter fired a gun at somebody?”

“Don’t argue with me, Caroline. They’ll be here in fifteen minutes. It’s for your protection and my peace of mind.” He crosses his arms over his chest doing his best tough guy impression.

“Whatever. I’m not going to argue with you. I’m assuming that I’m safe in the office so I’ll only have them on the way to work and home?” I ask him.

He nods his head and says very quietly, “I need to be honest with you.”

My stomach falls. I’m sure that my face betrays the panic that I feel inside. What does he have to tell me? All the
“what ifs”
flood my brain like lightning strikes on a dark night. My doubts are crushing me.
What if there are other women? What if Colin can’t take this level of personal invasion in his life? He did say that he doesn’t even do profile interviews. What if the media attention is about more than just Sasha’s nasty article and our picture together?

I take a seat on my sink counter top. I have a feeling that whatever he is about to reveal might take my legs from me. “What is it?”

He runs his hand through his hair creating a sexy tussled mess. “Things are different since we were together eight years ago.”

I nod my head acknowledging that fact. Things are different. We’re more mature. He’s a bigger star.

He continues, “After we broke up, I accepted endorsement deals that made me more of a household name than before.”

I know this. I saw his underwear campaign ten stories tall on the side of a building when I was in medical school. Colin endorses brief underwear that he doesn’t wear.

“I do a twice yearly underwear campaign. I have a cologne out that’s one of the bestselling male fragrances in the world. I’ve got a line of fitness clothes, and a shoe deal. I’ve done guest modeling during New York City fashion week. Big Bertha and I do commercials for Ford. I’m part owner of restaurants, clubs, and hotels across the country. Aiden and Mark have done a wonderful job of making me a household name.” He pauses for moment thinking of how to continue.

I knew that he’s been successful off the football field, but he’s right. I had no idea that he had his hand in some many different pots.

He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. Even frustrated, angry Colin is hot. “When you and I were together before, I was a guy who threw a football far and accurately. Now, I’m a guy who throws a football far and accurately, but I’m also a brand. Does that make sense?”

I’m quiet because I’m thinking about what that means to me and us. I guess I’m still missing his point because I don’t see how Colin being a brand changes our relationship. Finally, I respond. “Well, I must be dense. Please spell it out for me, because I’m clueless here.”

Damn it! He drops himself into the pose that I hate so much. He leans his forearms on his thighs and drops his head. I climb off the counter top and sit next to him on the edge of the bathtub placing my arms around his waist. I snuggle into his side hoping that my contact will give him the courage to keep talking. “Tell me, baby,” I encourage.

“I get attention from fans,” he finally says. “You got a taste of it last night at the rodeo. I get normal marriage proposals and silly stuff like that, but I also get the messages like ‘I’ll kill myself if you lose the game.’ Hell! Big Bertha has a fan page on Facebook and her own Twitter account.”

My face must betray the question that is screaming in my head
how is it possible for a hideous, environment killing truck to have social media accounts?

Colin smirks, “Jenny posts on Bertha’s accounts because she finds my truck almost as amusing as you do.” Then he gets back to serious Colin. “Anyway, I now live in a gated community because I had a female fan that I found in my bed. She had broken into my home and had a gun in her car.”

I shudder at the thought. We were robbed once when I was a little kid. That was scary. I can’t imagine being targeted in my home because of who I am. “It’s okay, baby.” I reassure him. “I’m not going to make you move…”

“Let me finish,” he says stopping me before I can continue. “Mark, Aiden, and I are afraid that one of the crazy fans might lash out at you. It was no secret in the media that our break up was hard on me. They’re afraid that someone might try to injure you thinking that they’re doing me a favor. Then, there’s Sasha. She has her own set of fans. There’s no telling what crazy people will do.” A thought flashes through my brain.
Who are my fans?

I finally see the big picture. This is so much larger than just Colin and I and some bitter ex-girlfriend. “Okay! I understand. I get it. Thanks for telling me. I’ll be careful,” I reassure him.

I stand up and place myself between his long legs and rest his head against my chest. I hug him to me tightly. “It’s just you and me. All the other stuff is just stuff. You’re just a guy who throws a football, and models underwear, and pimps cologne, and does all this other stuff,” I tease. “And I’m just a girl who has to get to the office because I use power tools during surgery to repair sports injuries, and today, I have four patients who couldn’t care less who I’m sleeping with that are depending on me to make them feel better.”

He stands up and begins to change into jeans and a polo style shirt. “Well, I’d hate to keep you from your power tools. Let’s go see if your security is here.”

Sure enough, there’s a black suburban looking car waiting for me outside. Colin calls somebody and tells them that I’m ready. Suddenly, the doors of the SUV open, and the same three very large and scary looking individuals from last night begin pushing their way through the crowd of reporters and up to my door.

Colin turns me around so I can see his fierce green eyes. “I love you. Be careful, and I’ll see you after lunch. Please, for my sake, will you listen to these guys and let them protect you? Don’t go all Charlie on me. Okay?”

I nod my head yes. “I’m worried about you though. Please don’t be all Charlie either.” I’m enjoying that my nickname has a new use.

“I’ll have a driver and security just like you, but I’ve had some time to get used to the attention. I’m fine… Charlie” He says emphasizing my name. Colin continues trying to reassure me, but I must be doing a bad job of hiding my anxiety because he kisses me deeply and passionately as if to soothe me. When he pulls away, he says, “I love you. I’m fine, baby.”

“I love you too, Colin.” I tell him before I open the door and step outside while the body guards all but carry me to the waiting black Suburban. I can hear cameras clicking and lights are flashing all around me. Reporters are screaming questions like, “did you know that he was seeing Sasha Stone?” My favorite one is, “When is the baby due?” Then, they start referring to us by our old nickname CharCol. I inwardly roll my eyes and remind myself that this is part of being in love with the Statement, but apparently my mission statement is now more epic than I realized.

As soon as I’m shoved inside the waiting car, the doors are closed, and the car starts moving toward my office building, I shoot Brad a text letting him know that I’m on my way with the security detail. I assume that at least one of the no neck guys will be spending the day with me at the office. The driver is Al from last night. The guy sitting next to me is Phil. Not a very scary sounding name, but I don’t dare tell him that. The dude’s a brick house. Phil says that he’ll be my shadow today. Al will be available if I need to leave the office.

I inform Phil that I’ve got surgeries today, and because he’s not in the medical field, that he’ll have to secure me from the waiting room. Phil nods his head. Apparently, he’s not very talkative.

I lean my head against the leather seat and close my eyes. It’s not even eight o’clock in the morning yet, and I’ve had a full day. Thank God that it’s a surgery day so I don’t have to see patients. I get the solace of the operating room where no one will bother me.

When we pull up to my building, there are a fresh set of reporters on the sidewalk. I’m sure that they’re sorely disappointed when Al drives under the building to the loading dock and drops me off in the basement. I thank him and climb out of the backseat with Phil in tow.

We change elevators on the second floor and head up to my practice on the 34
^th
floor. I’m not prepared for the stares that I get when I step off the elevator and enter my practice that I’m part owner of. My staff is looking at me with a bit of awe, contempt, and nervousness. I ignore the looks and make my way straight to my office where Brad is waiting with a large cup of coffee.

I draw the line on Phil following me into my office and instruct him to take a seat at Brad’s desk.

Brad follows me into my office shutting the door behind him before collapsing on my couch. “I’ve always wanted to know a celebrity,” he opens with.

I dramatically roll my eyes at him. “Not in the mood, tell me about my surgeries today.” I take a sip of my coffee and slip my shoes off my feet as I listen to Brad get me caught up on my procedures.

Just as he’s wrapping up, there’s a knock on my door. Brad opens it, and I see Phil filling up my doorway. My dad and Carmen are standing behind him obviously outraged that they were stopped from entering my office.

“Thanks Brad,” I tell him effectively dismissing him. “Would you mind grabbing me another cup?” I ask gesturing toward my coffee mug. The sight of my dad and Carmen together means that I’m about to get lectured and another cup of brew is in order.

He nods and waits for Phil to move.

Next, I instruct Phil to let my dad and step-mom in my office. As they enter, I see my mom standing behind them. Oh joy! My mother hasn’t been to my father’s medical practice since before the divorce was final. I was twelve. At least I’ll only have to tell this story once.

Carmen wisely takes a seat on the sofa that Brad just vacated. My mom and dad take the two club chairs in front of my desk.

My dad is fuming. My mom’s wringing her hands with worry. Carmen is sitting back enjoying the show.

I start off with, “I appreciate you guys caring so much, but there really is no story here.”

My dad is about to launch into a tirade when Brad knocks on my office door. He opens it without an invitation and sets my coffee down in the middle of my desk. As he turns to walk out, he winks at me and gives me an encouraging smile.

I take my fresh cup in my hand and lean back bracing for the inevitable lecture. I realize that by not sharing with my mom that Colin and I had reconnected has hurt her deeply. My dad, of course, knows that Colin and I are together, but he feels blindsided by Sasha’s article defacing his daughter.

Thirty minutes later and lots of reassurances and “we’re so worried about you honey,” it’s over. I sigh with relief when final hugs have been distributed, and they leave.

I grab my phone and call Colin. He answers on the first ring.

“Hello, baby. I love the song choice.” I’m thrilled that he finally has acknowledged his new ringtone, Beyoncé’s
Halo,
when I call him
.
“How are you doing so far?” He asks so sweetly that I want to crawl through the phone and snuggle in his lap.

“I just made it through the Spanish Inquisition, and I haven’t headed downstairs yet for my surgeries,” I reply.

“Do your parents hate me?” He asks quietly.

“No, baby. They’re just worried about me, us, my reputation, me getting my heartbroken again and more years of therapy. You know… The normal stuff parents worry about,” I chuckle.

“I’m sorry. Should I call them and reassure them that we’re good?”