Losing to Win

“Good morning, Mr. Knight,” A strange male voice said from the door of my bedroom. Not the best way to wake up.

I opened up one eye and glanced first at the clock: 4:15 a.m.? Seriously? I turned my gaze toward the voice. In the doorway stood a tall skinny twenty something in a “Barack the Vote” T-shirt and jeans. Even more alarming was the burly guy standing next to him dressed all in black and carrying a camera on his shoulder. The red light was on. Next to him stood a kid barely out of high school holding up a huge pole with a fuzzy microphone on the end also pointed in my direction. As I came to partial wakefulness, I recalled that the producer was Ren, the cameraman was Jerry, and the kid with the mic was DeMarcus. Knowing this did not explain what they were doing in my bedroom at the crack of dawn o’clock.

“Are we filming?” I rasped while looking down to make sure I’d actually worn something resembling pajamas to bed. I was in a Houston Stars T-shirt and loose cotton shorts. “You know, for some reason when you said we’d start first thing in the morning? I assumed that meant eight or nine?”

“We want to grab some Day One shots and get each contestant used to having us around,” Ren explained helpfully with a little too much cheer for this early in the morning.

“I see. Well, good morning, world. Hope you’re getting more sleep than I am.” I blinked and smiled into the camera as I sat up in bed. Hey, this face had sold its fair share of sports drinks and gym shoes not so long ago. I could still turn it on when I had to. However, there was one thing I needed to address. “Could a brother tip to the restroom without witnesses, please? The camera needs to know boundaries.”

“Yes, of course. Sorry.” The red light went off. “When you come back, make sure you pack a bag for the next month.”

“Say what now?” I paused on my way to the closet. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, I thought they told you. All of the contestants are moving on campus. To the Havenwood Academy dormitory.”

Pretty sure I’d missed that in the fine print. “Why?”

“It was decided that having everyone in one place is easier for filming and adds to the overall team experience.”

“Uh-huh. Does Rissa know about this?”

“Um, I think she’s being told this morning.”

I snorted. “Good luck with that.” I pulled some underwear, socks, sweats, and Nikes out of the closet before heading to the bathroom. “Why 4:15 in the morning?”

“We wanted to catch everyone while they were still sleeping so the first reactions are all honest.”

“Brilliant,” I agreed with a saccharine smile, closing the door firmly behind me. Reaching in to turn on the shower, I shook my head. What exactly had I gotten myself into? I definitely missed the part of the contract where they could barge into my house before dawn and start filming. The only saving grace was that this was a rental property on loan from Burke and Mac’s company, Bisset Custom Homes. Maybe they’d pick up free publicity from the impromptu early morning footage. I was enjoying the house, it was spacious and well laid out. Pity I was headed for a high school dorm room. Just another sacrifice for the greater good.

And really, that was the whole point of doing this ridiculous reality show: publicity for everybody. Some for me, some for the town, and some (albeit unwanted) for Carissa. I slid under the heated spray and searched for the body wash. I was in the middle of sudsing and rinsing when a knock came at the bathroom door. Before I could answer, the door swung open. I looked incredulously at it.

The skinny producer stuck his head in. “Sorry, dude. Your cell phone is ringing. The display says it’s Carissa. We thought you’d like to take it.”

I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my waist before I snatched the phone from Ren. I saw Jerry standing behind him with the camera on his shoulder and red light on. Intrusive much? I frowned. “Dude, not on camera.” I swung the door shut with a loud click and answered the phone. “Rissa, is everything okay?”

“Not so much. I assume you also have a camera in your face at this ungodly hour in the damn morning?” She sounded irritated, agitated, and unrested. Her Southern accent was more pronounced this early. Her voice sounded like spiced whiskey. I had to concentrate on what she’d just asked me.

“I just slammed the bathroom door shut on it. Even I have my limits.”

“Did you know about this dormitory situation?”

“I did not.” I dropped the towel and pulled on a pair of black boxer briefs. Turning sideways, I checked myself out in the mirror. The last forty pounds were not going easy. I was still a ways from football shape. I shifted the phone to my other hand and popped the top on the lotion. Just because it was early as hell was no excuse to be ashy.

“Mal, if I ask you something, will you answer me honestly?”

The fact that she felt she even had to ask told me how far into disrepair our relationship had truly fallen. “I will.”

“If I back out of this thing, will you be okay? I mean, for your comeback and everything? I don’t want to mess you up, but I’m not so sure I’m feeling this.”

I closed my eyes. I knew she wasn’t comfortable with this. But I didn’t realize she was absolutely hating it. We were only on Day One. If she wanted out, I couldn’t stand in her way. I’d done enough. “Ris, if you want out, walk away. I’ll back you up. It’s not a problem. Really.”

She expelled a deep breath. “What about your tryout?”

I stepped into thin black sweatpants and pulled an LSU T-shirt over my head before I answered. “Babe, they’ll either give me a shot or they won’t. You’ve given up enough for me. If you’re this unhappy before we even get started on Day One, it’s not worth it. I’ll make it work.”

“Thanks, Mal. I’m tempted. So very, very tempted. But too many people are counting on me, counting on this show—the money, the exposure. I can’t back out now. Promise me we are not going to do anything cringe worthy in front of America?”

Might as well speak true. “Not sure I can keep that promise. Even at our best, we could get a little rowdy together.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Look at you being all honest this early in the morning.”

I sat down on the toilet seat to pull on my socks. “Too damn early to sugarcoat.”

She sighed. “This is already a pain in the ass.”

“A huge pain in the ass.”

“Okay, I’ll quit whining. See you at the dorm.”

For some reason, I wasn’t ready to stop talking to her. “Ris?”

“Yeah?” she answered tentatively.

“Are we friends again?”

She stayed silent a long time. “Sure, Mal. We’re friends.”

“With benefits?” I couldn’t help but add.

She choked on a soft laugh. “Don’t push it.”

I grinned. “Can’t blame a brother for trying.”

“Sure I can.”

I’d gotten this far, so I decided to push a little more. “Do we need to talk about what almost happened yesterday?”

“No, we absolutely do not.”

I laughed. “Denial?”

“Refusal.”

“At least admit we have a few loose ends to tie up.”

“Probably more than a few. You are right about one thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s way too early for this.” She hung up abruptly.

I grinned again and slid the phone into my side pocket. I swung the door open to find Ren outside the door and DeMarcus next to him. “Did you seriously just tape a closed-door conversation from outside the bathroom door?”

He nodded unapologetically.

“So not cool. We’re going to have to set some boundaries.”

“You did agree in your contract to be on film 24-7,” Ren reminded me.

“I’m very positive I excluded some things such as”—I gestured to the room behind me as I stepped into the hallway—“bathroom time. Let’s try and maintain some of the mystery, shall we?” I glowered down at him with my best “I’m a football player and will hurt you” glare.

“Sorry, sir.” The glare still worked.

“You don’t have to ‘sir’ me, just show some basic decency or this is not going to go well for any of us. Speaking of which, walking into the bathroom—in fact, any room—without waiting for permission: that’s not going to happen again. Got it?”

“Yes, si—Mr. Knight.”

I rolled my eyes as we walked past the kitchen. “I can be Mal. Truly. I assume breakfast is out of the question?”

“We have breakfast set up at the dorm.”

The dorm. Jesus, it was like a bad training camp flashback all over again. I quickly went into the closet and put together a variety of clothes, shoes, and toiletries for a few weeks. After years of weekly travel, I had the art of packing down to a science. I was rolling a tie and sliding it inside a shoe as my phone rang again.

“You’re popular this morning,” Ren said and motioned to Jerry to roll again.

I flashed my trademark “don’t you want to get like me” smile. “I’m popular every morning.” I thumbed on the phone. “This is Mal.”

“On camera already?” Pierre’s cultured tones flowed across the line.

I glanced up at the camera. “As a matter of fact, I’m staring into the red light as we speak.”

“Ah, well. I’ll keep it short. You talk to Cari this morning?”

“Yes. Why?”

“She called me to go over the terms of her agreement. I got the impression she was looking for an escape loophole.”

“You got the right impression, but she decided to stick it out for now.”

“Okay, good. I think this is going to be a great experience for both of you.”

“Are you matchmaking?” Underneath the Italian suits, Pierre was a romantic Southern gentleman at heart.

“Do I need to be?” When he started answering questions with questions, it meant Pierre had something else to say.

“Go ahead and say what you gotta say.”

“You’re better with her.”

I frowned. “Wait a minute, now.” Not only did I not agree with that assessment, I didn’t appreciate it, not one bit.

“You don’t have to like it for it to be true. Sorry, but you’re a better athlete and a better person when she’s around. This is not only your last chance at the NFL, this is your last chance with Cari. I’m telling you not to blow either one.” His voice was crisp, as if he wanted to be clear that this was not a topic he considered to be up for discussion.

I shared my major concern with him. “What if I can’t have both at the same time? I don’t even know if it’s possible.”

“Well, my friend, only you can make that decision, but I’ll tell you this: you have many business ventures to keep you challenged professionally. There is only one Carissa Melody Wayne.”

“Noted.” I was done talking about something I had no control over today.

Briskly, Pierre continued. “All right, then. I’ll be on set later this week. Unless you need me sooner.”

“It’s been a while since I was your only client and needed my hand held,” I teased.

He laughed. “My first and best, though. Stay outta trouble, Mal.”

“Trouble? Who, me? I’m always good.” I hung up as he snorted a response. Putting one last pair of socks in the bag, I zipped it closed and looked around for the matching laptop case. Striding past the camera, I couldn’t imagine that the people of America would be interested in watching me packing a cell phone charger and iPad. But hey, whatever. Tossing in my MacBook Pro and a few peripherals, I scanned the room to see if there was anything else I couldn’t live without for a few weeks. Satisfied I had the necessities, I set the laptop case on top of the rolling bag and turned toward the door.

“Everyone ready?” I asked with feigned cheer as I snatched up the car keys. “Let’s get this party started.”