Fool Me Twice by Lizzie Morton

 

 

Five

 

Britney

 

The day felt like a new beginning but quickly became a disaster, and I’m now linked to Becket in the most unavoidable way. I feel guilty for what happened, but it doesn’t change the fact he’s an asshole. I know it, he knows it and the world knows it. If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it’s probably a duck. An article isn’t going to change who Becket is.

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” asks Jess with a drink in hand.

I put my head in my hands and groan. “You’re going to hate me when I tell you. I don’t know if I can.”

“I could never hate you.” She places a hand on my shoulder giving a reassuring squeeze.

I look up and see her earnest expression. I’ve done some shitty stuff in the past, she knows some of my murky history, but she’s my best friend over everything. She would never judge me for it. I let out a deep breath. “You’re at least going to think less of me.”

“Everyone has a past, Brit. Nobody’s perfect.”

“I know that, but this is something else.” I look down at my drink, feeling hopeless. Today, even a lethal cocktail can’t fix things.

“No matter what it is, we’re best friends, remember. Through thick and thin.” She holds a hand up for me to return our signature fist bump.

I can’t help the laugh that escapes. We clicked the moment we met. You could say it was love at first sight, and in a city where I knew no one, I was glad Jess was the first friend I made. We support each other in what I learned at an early age is a dog-eat-dog world.

“Promise you won’t hate me?” I ask.

“You’re my best friend. I might tell you if you’ve been a bitch or done something I don’t agree with, but it doesn’t mean I won’t still love you.”

“Ok …” I take a deep breath, preparing myself to tell the story and relive it in the process.

“Come on. It’s like ripping off a band-aid. You’ve just got to do it.”

If only she knew how much more painful it was going to be. Just as I think I might have worked up the courage to start speaking, I lose my nerve, pick up my drink and take a large swig. Numbing my senses will make the whole thing easier. “It was last year. Remember the magazine I worked at before Allure offered me a position?”

She waves me off, getting annoyed with what she seems to think are irrelevant details. “Yes, yes. I remember all that. Come on less of the boring stuff. Can we get to the juicy bits, please?”

There’s no way I’m going to be able to placate her with minor details any longer so, I do what she says and jump right in. “I fucked over Michael Becket.”

She sits, contemplating what I’ve said. “Fucked over or fucked? Like shebang?”

I frown. “You know there’s no possibility of it being shebang. No, I fucked him over. Well and truly.”

“He’s one of the most successful NFL players of the decade. How on earth did you, little Britney, fuck him over?” She looks at me with intrigue rather than the horror I expected. But she doesn’t know the full story yet.

“Remember the media scandal he was part of …”

“The one where he was almost kicked out of the league because he decided to dabble in a porn career?” It sounds even more awful when she says it out loud.

“It was because of me.”

Jess snorts into her drink. “Yeah, right. Come on tell me the real reason. You guys totally had sex, didn’t you?”

“Firstly, no, we did not have sex. You know I’m a virgin. I’m being serious. I hate myself every day for it, even though he is an idiot. I set it up. Well, with another girl named Leigh, but I haven’t seen her since.”

“How?” She looks bemused.

I don’t blame her. I would be skeptical if I were in her shoes, wondering how someone like myself could screw over someone like Michael Becket.

“It was an assignment at my last job. There was word that his relationship was on the rocks—”

“How is it possible anyone would have known that?” she interrupts. “He’s like the most private guy ever. At least he was before everything came out.”

I frown at her for interrupting me. “As I was saying … The gossip column I was working for had eyes and ears everywhere. They had a source that knew everything and that was that. It seemed harmless, but then they upped the stakes.”

“Why? What did they do?” She leans in eagerly.

“It was an unwritten rule in the office, that if you didn’t follow through on a job, you found yourself unemployed shortly after.”

It’s clear she still doesn’t get it when she says, “So what? You spied on him? This is the media world. Things like that are expected.”

I wish what she was saying was true and it was that simple. “No, I didn’t spy on him. I set him up.”

I spend the next half hour reliving every moment, hating myself more and more as I tell Jess every sordid detail.

“Do you hate me?” I ask once I’ve finished my retelling.

Jess is sitting with her mouth hanging open. She hesitates before replying, “I could never hate you, Brit. Am I shocked? A little.”

“I’m sorry.” My eyes burn at the thought I’ve disappointed my friend. Having someone know I was responsible makes everything we did to him seem so much worse.

She signals to a server to bring another round of drinks. “It’s not me you should be apologizing to.”

“I know. I’m saying sorry because you have to associate with someone who did such a shitty thing.”

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: people make mistakes, Brit. I know you had your reasons. Honestly, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Neither did I,” I admit. “Once the night started, I lost all control of the outcome.”

“I get it, I do. But you can’t change the past. You know that better than anyone.”

I throw my hands up in the air. “What do I do then? Forcing us together like this is a disaster waiting to happen.”

“It’s going to be hard, and I don’t think he’s going to make your life easy. Try and see this as a chance to rectify what you did. He might even forgive you.”

She has lost the plot. “That’s never gonna happen.”

“But he kissed you and you said there were sparks. If you both felt the connection, he might eventually be able to see past what you did.”

I understand what she’s saying, but I don’t think it matters whether there was a spark, or a full-blown fire between us. Nothing can make up for how I hurt him and almost ruined his future. “You really think he’d want anything to do with me after what I put him through? You’re living in a dream.”

“Stranger things have happened.” She takes a long sip of her drink and waits for me to go on another of my rants.

“True, but I think I’m the worst thing that’s happened to him. He wasn’t wrong when he lumped me into the crazy category. I bet he regrets the day he met me.”

“That might be so, but you’re not the same person he met on that plane. You and I both know that. You also can’t fake chemistry, and if it was there, like you say it was, maybe there’s a chance for the two of you.”

I want to be optimistic, but what I did to Becket was another level of deceit and I can’t forgive myself for it. I’m not certain about much, but I am certain the next few weeks are going to be worse than the almost plane crash that tied us together.

 

***

 

Becket

 

The practices while Coach has been gone haven’t been any easier. Today his assistant pushed us harder than ever. He always goes the extra mile when he fills in, as if he has something to prove, that he can run with the big dogs. The pain serves a purpose though and helps to keep the nerves of Coach returning from New York at bay.

We’re halfway through running drills on the field when I see him standing at the sidelines. All I get when he sees me is a nod. It’s ‘the nod.’ The one he saves for when he means business. Whatever business he has to share, I’m praying it’s in my favor. I have to wait until practice is finished, and I’m cleaned up—he won’t speak to me otherwise.

Like I did a few days ago, I pause before knocking on his door. I’ve been here more times in the past eighteen months than I have in my whole footballing career and each time it’s because of something related to her.

“Come in,” his voice sounds normal, gruff.

Before opening the door, I pause, my hand on the handle, and take a deep breath. I have a feeling things are about to change. Exhaling, I shake my head, telling myself to get it together. Inside, I can’t even sit down, there are too many emotions coursing through my body. Combined with post-practice adrenaline, I’m a jittery mess.

Coach doesn’t look up. His attention remains focused on the papers in his hands. “It’s done.”

I blink. Well, that was easy. Just to make sure I’ve heard him right, I ask, “You’re sure she’s going to come?”

“Positive. The magazine rang on the drive from the airport to confirm. They’ve already booked flights and accommodation. If she knows what’s good for her, it’s a done deal.”

“Good.” I don’t know how to react. For the past eighteen months, my focus has been on getting my career back on track, and one other thing: what it would be like to bring down Britney Shaw—if that’s even her real name. I’ll bring her down like she tried to do to me. She failed. I won’t.

Coach interrupts my train of thought, “She seems nice. Are you sure it was her?”

She fooled me and I’ve no doubt she’s capable of fooling other people. Even a battle-axe like Coach. “I’m certain,” I say, frowning.

He finally looks up and stares me in the eyes. “Maybe there’s a reason she did it?”

“She fucking drugged me! Made a sex tape among many other videos she posted online. And if that weren’t enough, she told my secrets to the world. Exactly what justifiable reason could there be?” My voice grows louder with each word—that’s what talking about her does, it brings out the worst in me.

He lets out a huff. “All I’m saying is that the person you described seems out of character to the woman I met.”

“It was her. There’s no question about it. She’s the one who screwed me over.” It’s pissing me off that he’s even questioning this. He’s seen the CCTV footage we managed to get hold of from that night. She’s in every single shot, hovering in the background, watching. It doesn’t take a genius to put it all together.

“Ok.” He focuses his attention back on the paperwork in his hands.

“That’s it?”

“You’re a stubborn ass when you want to be. Nothing I say is going to change your mind. Just go easy on her.”

“Like she did to me?” I scowl like a fourth-grader.

Placing the paperwork down on his desk, Coach looks back up at me and sighs. “I get it, you’re pissed. I am too. What she did was wrong. All I’m saying is maybe you should hear her out and see if there was a reason behind it all. Sometimes people do things for unexpected reasons. She might regret what she did, but you won’t know if you don’t give her a chance.”

I can’t listen to this. Shaking my head, I turn around and go to leave his office. I stop right before stepping through the doorway. Over the years, he’s taught me better than this. He’s taught me never to leave a conversation unresolved. Looking back over my shoulder, I say, “She’s had months to find me to apologize. She didn’t find it difficult the first time. What happens next, she did to herself.”