More than the Game by Jenni Bara

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@CelebPeopleMag:Campbell flies out of @HotshotDemoda apartment and hops into an Uber early this morning…looks like trouble in paradise

@USWeekly:The IT couple hasn’t been seen together since before @HotShotDemoda’s big announcement. All cute things must come to an end.

The front door closed behind her. His handling of that exchange had been utterly shitty, but he hadn’t been ready for it. Not to mention that Austin posting it on Twitter—before he’d had a chance to talk to her—sucked. In Marc’s mind, telling Austin he could post that tweet tomorrow meant after Marc gave him the okay, not at seven fucking a.m. What the fuck was that? He wanted to call Austin, but first, he had to deal with the fact that Beth had left. The idea that she was walking out of his life made his entire being rebel.

By the time he opened the door, the elevator was already closing, and just like that, she was gone. She said she deserved more; he had known that all along. Still, he couldn’t give it to her, and until today, she’d been happy to take what he could give. He wasn’t sure what had suddenly changed.

He should have told her about Boston. He’d wanted to talk to her about it ever since he got the offer. And he had planned on talking to her last night, but that sex game they’d played made everything complicated.

When she’d told him that she loved him, she wasn’t playing that Tiffany character anymore. How was he supposed to tell the woman he was leaving after that? So he’d done what any man would do in his situation: He ignored it.

He had known that telling her about Boston would change everything. It was why he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He needed some more time to come up with a plan to convince her that she didn’t need more than he could give her. He’d done it before.

Marc’s mood was in the toilet by the next night. She wouldn’t answer his calls or see him. And sitting in the bar with Austin wasn’t helping, because she was talking to him.

“I’m sorry you did this to yourself,” Austin said, but Marc didn’t hear any genuine sympathy in his friend’s voice. “She asked me to write up a statement about you two parting on good terms, and to convince you to make it a joint statement since I represent you both.”

“Fuck that.” Marc slammed his beer on the table. “This is what started all the issues. If you hadn’t posted that tweet about NESN, I wouldn’t be here. Not everyone needs to know all this shit. Whose business is it but hers and mine what the status of our relationship is?”

“Who are you?” Austin scoffed.

“What?”

“You’re the man who had me call in your location for years. The guy who gave the paparazzi all the money shots, did any interviews, and kept up with social media at all costs. You made yourself a big deal. Now people want to hear about you.”

“I’m not going to talk about Beth. That’s private. And I want you to tell her you recommend she doesn’t either.”

“She wants it released by Sunday morning, with or without your agreement. She’s a client, and a friend. Don’t make me do this without your input, Marc, because I will.”

Marc knew Austin would. He wasn’t happy with Marc. Austin and Sid were both #you should have told her. Her brothers wouldn’t return any of his calls either—not that he expected them to.

“What’s her big fucking hurry?” Marc demanded.

Austin looked at him wearily. “Sunday night she has to be at a big-ticket fundraiser, with lots of media. The mayor of New York is going to be there, and the governor. She’s sitting with them.”

“I’m in Chicago on Sunday for the game; she could say I was working.”

“Even with the noon game, you could fly back and be there by eight when everyone sits down for dinner. You two have been almost inseparable for the past few months. If Beth hadn’t broken up with you yesterday, wouldn’t you fly back?” Austin asked.

“Of course I’d be there for her,” Marc snapped.

“And everyone knows that, so your presence is going to be missed. If she doesn’t issue a statement, it’ll drive the media crazy guessing,” Austin explained as if he were talking to a three-year-old.

“Who gives a flying fuck what the media says?”

“She does, Marc,” Austin said, his eyebrows raised and his jaw clenched. “She wants as little media backlash from this as possible. She hates the attention. You’ve done your best to shield her for the last two months, but the reality is you’re not there anymore. And your decision to suddenly up and move has everyone speculating.”

This was part of his concern about this job. Throwing himself back into the spotlight would turn their relationship into more fodder for speculation. He’d been two-stepping with the media for months. He answered very few questions, and made sure Austin kept them at bay by feeding them pictures that didn’t intrude and never putting them in a situation where there could be speculation. Marc had also made it clear that Beth’s house and the surrounding area were off-limits, or any relationship between him and the rags would end. He’d even paid a security team—which she didn’t know about—to keep the rags away from her property. It kept Beth and the kids slightly out of the center stage that the first few weeks of their relationship had pushed on them. But now that he’d be gone all the time, he wasn’t going to be the buffer he had been.

Austin continued, “She has lots of things coming up in the next few months that she needs to attend, and even have an escort for. She’s trying to be proactive, and I can’t say I didn’t recommend that.” Austin sighed.

“Wait.” Marc was only half paying attention, but he hadn’t missed that she was going to be taking dates to events; from the sound of it, she was starting Sunday. “She’s dating?”

“Marc, you’re not listening to me.” Austin sighed again.

“Yes I am. Yesterday Beth told me she loved me, and now you’re telling me she’s going out with another guy? There’s something fucking wrong with that.” He shook his head.

He didn’t want her dating someone else. He had no interest in dating another girl. If she loved him, how could she want to date someone else?

“It’s not a date. She needs an escort.” Austin rolled his eyes. “Jealous?”

Unquestionably.

“It’s shitty.” Marc took a long pull from his beer. He remembered what Will had told him about her finding the right guy quickly, and his hand tightened on the bottle. He’d kill ‘the right guy’ if she did find him.

“You are not being reasonable,” Austin said through clenched teeth, and Marc wondered if maybe he’d made that last threat aloud. “She’s a camera-shy politician’s daughter in the middle of the presidential campaign, and all you’re doing is making it harder for her.”

“Who’s she taking Sunday?” Marc demanded.

Austin glance at the ceiling as if praying for patience before he finally said, “I won’t play informant, Marc.”

He wanted to kill him. He needed to reach across the table and strangle Austin until he told Marc whom she was going to get dressed up for and whom she would spend the night dancing and laughing alongside.

Austin reminded him, “You didn’t think she was important enough to talk to about a life-changing decision. You didn’t want any permanent ties. So congrats—you don’t have to deal with her life anymore, dumbass.

“Look, I know you care about her. If you both issue a statement saying you broke up and remain friends, it won’t be a big deal. There’s no story there—as long as you don’t make one by starting shit. And maybe figure out what you want because I don’t think you have any idea.”

Marc wanted to yell that he knew what he wanted. He wanted everything back the way it had been when he’d had Beth and her kids in his life. Back when he was happy. Happier than he’d been in years—including when he had played for the Metros.

But that wouldn’t happen because he was going to Boston, and the idea of moving lost its appeal. Knowing all this might have changed his decision about going in the first place, so he should have talked to Beth about it. He didn’t want her to matter that much, but the truth of it was that she did.

So why hadn’t he told her?

He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. And now he had.

But he wanted things in life, and she couldn’t live in the spotlight, so regardless of anything else, they never could have worked. He should have been able to give up his life of fame for her. But he couldn’t. She deserved more than he could give her. Austin was right: If he genuinely cared, he needed to figure out how to move on—because right now he didn’t have any idea.

“Issue the statement, then. Sunday morning, whatever she wants. I have no comment other than what she wants me to say, and I won’t draw any attention to myself.” Marc got up.

“Marc—the security,” Austin said, his expression apologetic.

Marc looked at him questioningly.

“I let it pass when you two were together. Protecting your girlfriend without her knowledge is one thing, but now—having her followed, keeping people outside her house… It’s stalking,” he said, frowning.

Marc gave him a nasty look. “Are you kidding?”

He didn’t want to pull security. They were keeping the press away; they were protecting Beth and the kids.

“I know you never ask for updates, you never care what she and the kids are doing, but paying people to follow your ex-girlfriend without her knowledge is textbook stalking,” Austin repeated.

He was right.

Marc knocked his knuckles against the table. “Call Ed Campbell and get him to put someone on her. I’ll talk to him if I need to. Pull my guys tonight,” he said, and walked away.