Cam managed to keep things pristine until the film crew arrived, mostly because he left the premises entirely and picked up breakfast at the local pancake house. There were four people—one camera guy, a sound guy, a lighting guy, and Trudi, the hostess of the show. She was a fine looking redhead, leggy and put together. She wore slacks and a blouse that was sexy, but not obviously so. Her eyes were arresting, her voice husky.
“Good to meet you, Cameron.” Trudi said, holding her hands out to keep Zeus from getting too close.
He grabbed the dog’s collar and held him back. “Settle down, boy. This is Zeus. He might be big, but he’s still a puppy. And please call me Cam.”
“Okay, Cam,” Trudi said. “Before we start, I want to go over a couple of things. We’re going to just play it casual, if that’s okay. Just pretend the cameras aren’t there, that we’re just hanging out. It seems more natural that way.”
“I can do that.”
“And the players always have the final say in what we air. So if we end up catching something bad on camera, we can just edit it out. That includes awkward pauses, ball scratching—no, don’t laugh, it’s happened—whatever. Don’t worry, our editor is pretty good at keeping things light and humorous.”
Cam laughed anyway.
“So, we’re going to rewind and pretend I’m just arriving and then go from there. I’ll just go back outside…” He closed the door and then opened it when she knocked a few moments later.
“Hey, Cam. Thanks for letting us catch you at home.” Her smile was warm and welcoming. “How long have you lived here?”
He shrugged as they walked toward the center of the house. “About two years now.”
“And before that?”
“I rented a place at Counterpoint.”
She nodded. “Also known as Jock Tower.”
Cam chuckled. Counterpoint had gotten that nickname honestly. Situated near AT&T Park, where the Giants played, and the Dragon Arena where the Dragons played, it was in an ideal location. Add to that the fact that it was a posh building with great amenities for its residents and excellent security, it was easy to see why quite a few pro athletes made their homes there.
“I’ve done a couple of interviews there. The apartments are beautiful. Why’d you move to Hillsborough?”
“My dog—I only had one back then—wasn’t happy in the city. He needed a backyard to run around in.”
This was only partially true. His marriage to Morgan had been a little rocky at the time and he’d mistakenly thought buying the impressive house she’d been gunning for would do the trick. It hadn’t.
Trudi’s expression softened. “Aww. That’s adorable. So you moved for the well-being of your dog.”
She admired his pool and especially liked that solar panels on his roof powered the heater and filters. They moved inside and Cam took her through the whole house, silently thanking Suzette for all her hard work. He thought about what the place had looked like this time yesterday and cringed. Today, he was proud to show almost every room, except for the mother-in-law suite, otherwise known as the Black Hole.
Eventually they sat on his couch in the media room where Trudi said, “Say, I want to try out a little game with you. If it works, it’ll end up a regular feature. Sound good?”
He shrugged, by this time feeling more comfortable. “Okay.”
“Give me your phone.”
Not really thinking twice, he handed it to her, only belatedly realizing she could find some potentially embarrassing on it. Like the text conversation he’d had with a teammate yesterday about the coach having his head up his ass during the last practice. Then again, he remembered that all he had to do was object to something and they’d delete it.
Still, he wouldn’t relax until he had his phone back.
“So I just want to look at the last picture you took on your phone. Do you even remember what it is?”
Cam laughed. He did indeed. On the plane trip back from Nashville, Max Stone had drawn fake eyelashes on Noah Brinkworth while he was sleeping. It had taken a long time to get a complete set on him because every couple of strokes, Noah would twitch or rub his face and they’d all freeze. Cam remembered getting a great shot of Max in the act and since Noah had never found out who the culprit was, the fallout from revealing it was Max would be hilarious.
“I do.”
“Judging from that grin, I’d say I’m in for a treat,” she said, offering the phone back to him so he could unlock it with his thumb.
He said nothing as she tapped the screen to open his photo album. Her eyes widened and she asked, “So, who is this?”
He gave her a look. “That’s Noah Brinkworth,” he said, thinking she didn’t recognize him because he was a) sleeping and b) sporting some thick, hand-drawn eyelashes.
One of the cameramen zoomed in on the screen.
Trudi raised one eyebrow. “I had no idea Noah looked this good in lingerie.”
That’s when Cam remembered the last photo he had taken was not of Noah getting a Sharpie makeover.
It was Suzette.
Shit on a motherfucking cracker.
“Is this your girlfriend?” Trudi asked.
“No! No. It’s just a…girl.” He reached out and took his phone back. “Never mind. Just…stop filming for a minute.”
Trudi held a finger up and the guy lowered his camera.
“Look,” Cam said, “I want you to erase this last part. I don’t want that woman’s picture in the segment.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Trudi leaned forward and asked conspiratorially, “Is she married?”
Cam scowled at her. “It’s none of your business. All you need to know is that I don’t want this part included. End of story.”
Crap. He thought he’d deleted that picture. He distinctly remembered aiming at the little trash can icon. And yet, it wasn’t the first time his big fingers missed the buttons on the phone. It happened all the time when he was taking pictures or video, setting an alarm, or texting. But in those instances, it didn’t matter.
“Come on, Cam,” Trudi said in a placating tone. “Her face isn’t even showing.”
His own stony face, he thought, said it all.
Trudi sighed. “Okay, I get the message. Why don’t you show me the photo you thought I was looking at?” When she saw it, she nodded. “That’s funny and we can just use that instead. We’ll start rolling again and just pretend that was the last photo on your phone. They’ll make it look natural in editing.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. We’ve done this before. Someone accidentally spilled the beans about a surprise party for his wife and—”
“Oh, I remember that. Paul threw a surprise birthday party for Natalie.”
“Yes.”
“And we edited out that part and she was none the wiser.”
Cam blew out a breath, relieved. Crisis resolved. Thank God. He had already emailed Gwen of Eye Candy Maids to arrange weekly visits from Suzette and he didn’t want to fuck that up with the unauthorized release of a photograph he was supposed to have deleted.