Page 34 of Reality With You (Arden Beach #1)

“I’m glad you’re here. You look great.” Eddie settled his hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “Though, of course, not as good as these beautiful ladies.” He smiled warmly at Erin and Lennon as they each hugged Rhett in greeting.

“Is the award they’re giving you tonight one for flattery?” Erin questioned.

“I can’t take credit for speaking the truth.” Eddie gave her a gentle peck on the cheek. His attention then slid to Lennon through his thick, black-framed glasses. “Well, this is a nice surprise. Dylan didn’t tell me he was bringing a date.” He sent Dylan an inquisitive look, a glint in his eyes.

To save Dylan from having to navigate the implication, Lennon joked, “He said these events were boring, so being the great friend that I am, I agreed to keep him company.”

“Ah. That is mighty gregarious of you.” Eddie glanced between them, seemingly unconvinced but cordially playing along.

“They could put a toddler on a sugar high to sleep, couldn’t they?

They lured me here with the promise of an award, and I never refuse an opportunity to have my ego publicly stroked. ”

“I hear you’re receiving a Lifetime Achievement Award,” Lennon said. “I’d suffer through boredom for that, too.”

“Yeah. Feels a little like a back-handed compliment, though. Are they trying to tell me in a nice way that it’s time to retire?

” Eddie laughed good-naturedly. “It’s good to see you again, Lennon.

” He studied her and Dylan for a beat, then passed a glance around the room.

“My daughter’s here somewhere. She’ll be excited to see you all. ”

“She should be graduating pretty soon,” Rhett commented.

“Yep, her master’s program ends in the spring. I’m proud of her, but eight years away from home has been … a long time. We’re not all spoiled with our daughters studying in Arden Beach and working on the road with us,” Eddie said, looking at Erin and Rhett.

Rhett smiled warmly. “Savannah’ll be running Carmichael Enterprises with you soon enough.”

Eddie’s smile seemed to falter slightly, something passing over his eyes. Lennon wondered if it had something to do with him potentially selling the team, though she wasn’t sure why that would affect his other businesses.

Someone stole Eddie’s attention across the room. “Oh, hey—there’s the commissioner. And he’s talking to a couple of the board members. Perfect.” He fixed his attention on Dylan. “Time to work your magic, kid.”

The reaction was infinitesimal—a minute flinch at the corners of Dylan’s eyes—but Lennon noticed it. Both older men regarded him with expectancy. Lennon discreetly brushed her fingers against his. When he met her gaze, she sent him an encouraging look. “You’ve got this.”

One corner of his mouth gently rose.

As Dylan walked off with Eddie toward the commissioner, Erin said, “I’ll refresh these,” taking Lennon’s empty flute. She’d been drinking as if something in the water could calm her nerves. “Dad, you want anything?”

Rhett shook his head. “I’m good. Thanks, honey.”

Erin disappeared into the crowd. Lennon’s heart beat a hard rhythm in her chest as Dylan approached the group of men and one woman across the room.

“Erin gave you that dress?”

Lennon turned to Rhett, who faced the aquarium with his hands in his pockets, glancing sidelong at her gown as the water cast him in a cerulean glow. He’d never been one to reveal much, but she sensed the ghosts behind his eyes. Her heart softened.

“Just for tonight,” Lennon answered.

Their eyes met momentarily, his expression a cryptic mixture of wistful and stony, before he followed a school of fish beyond the glass again. Together, they watched the group of dozens of silver fish wind through the water as one.

“Amazing how they instinctively move together. It turns them into this formidable force against predators hundreds of times their size. But if one loses focus and falls out of line, it becomes a target. Its chances of survival plummet.”

The school of fish cut across the glass, then looped around a rock formation and back, their shape morphing but never losing harmony.

“Dylan lost focus, and look where it got him,” Rhett remarked, voice dropping low to keep the statement between them. “It’s imperative he doesn’t lose it again.”

Lennon’s abdomen tightened. “He’s more focused than I’ve ever seen him. And you know I’ve seen him at his worst.”

“He needs to stay that way, or he’ll lose everything we’ve worked so hard to build.”

“He seems committed.”

“That’s because he got a taste of losing it all,” Rhett said.

“The game, the team—it has to be everything to him. He can’t afford to get distracted again.

None of us can.” He rolled his tongue around his mouth in thought, the weight of that statement thickening the air.

“I get the idea behind doing the show, even if I disagree with it. But that needs to be where the distractions end.”

It took her a moment to understand what he was getting at—until he settled his gaze on her. For once, his expression spoke volumes.

“You’re worried I’m a distraction?” Lennon asked, caught off guard. His unwavering stare wasn’t simply an affirmation. It was a declaration. “We aren’t dating. We’re just friends.”

A small chuckle rumbled out of him as he briefly broke eye contact. After a beat, Rhett said, “The game and his team should be his only friends right now.”

“With all due respect, I disagr—”

“It’s barely been six months, Lennon. Do you honestly think he can handle more than what’s currently on his plate?”

The question stunned her to silence. Or more so, its implied subtext did. He couldn’t juggle you and his career before. What makes you think he can now, when the pressure is at its highest?

“I know firsthand how much this game takes from you,” Rhett continued, solemnness weighing down the words. “What has to be sacrificed. Either by you or the people you love.”

The implications slowly sank in.

“Man, it took me forever to track down someone without booze,” Erin said as she returned, two freshly topped flutes of sparkling water in hand. “Ironically, I had to go to the actual bar.”

“Thanks,” Lennon said, accepting one of them. She took a sip as she tried to regain her equilibrium.

“I wonder how Dylan’s doing,” Erin mused, eying him across the room.

Rhett gave Lennon a meaningful look. “We’ll know soon enough.”

“Excuse me. I’m going to find the restroom,” Lennon said, her stomach uneasy. Erin took her glass back and directed her toward the bathrooms, to which she made a hasty exit.

Lennon took a few minutes for herself in the quiet restroom to get her racing mind under control.

Her hands shook a little as she ran them under the faucet.

She touched up her lipstick, made sure her hair was in place and no toilet paper was stuck to her shoes, and then took a deep breath, readying herself for the rest of the evening.

As Lennon exited the restroom in a quiet corridor of the museum, someone called out her name. She turned to a man with a small gut poking through a cheap and slightly wrinkled tuxedo. A press badge hung around his neck.

Her instincts thrummed.

“I’m not going to talk about him,” Lennon stated firmly.

A pair of wiry brows jumped up his forehead. Following a breath, a low chuckle scratched his throat. “You’re a quick one. Is that why it didn’t work out? Couldn’t get anything past you.”

“You’re obviously not here to do a story on me.”

“Something tells me it would be a good one.” A tiny smirk touched his lips. “You’re right, though. I am interested in Dylan’s story. The real one. I’m Harold Cranston, freelance journalist.”

“You can watch the show when it streams, Harold.” Lennon turned on her heel.

“If you think a reality show is the best way to get your side of the story out, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but … you’re being naive,” Harold said bluntly.

She reluctantly stopped. “The genre’s name is an oxymoron.

They’re entertainment, not documentaries.

They’re going to exploit and twist what you give them to their benefit, and their benefit only.

Especially if you’re working with the likes of Huey Donaldson. ” Contempt dripped from the name.

Lennon cocked a dubious brow. “As if you won’t?”

Harold’s expression hardened, like he’d taken offense. “I told you—I care about the truth. I’m not the only person interested in his story, but I am the only one willing to listen to the actual source rather than draw my own narrative to make a quick buck.”

“Thanks for the concern, but we’ve got it under control,” Lennon said with a glib smile. She continued down the corridor.

Harold followed her. “Has anyone questioned the convenient timing of you showing up in Arden Beach and spending time with your rich, famous ex-husband a month after your record deal fell through?” Her smile faltered as her stomach pinched.

“Pretty good way to create more sympathy for the recovering baseball star. Can’t trust anyone around him, even his ex-wife. No wonder he spiraled …”

Lennon dug her nails into her clutch, swallowing the pressure tightening in her throat.

“What does your family think about all of this?” Harold asked.

She stopped again and sent him a withering look as he came up beside her. “You mean you don’t already know everything about me?”

Harold chuckled. “I’d rather hear it from you. Something tells me people aren’t too interested in what you have to say, but more in what they want you to say.”

That hit deep in her core.

Lennon kept her expression neutral, but inside, the thread Rhett had pulled unraveled further. She hated how perceptive this guy was. How much he was getting under her skin.

Harold narrowed his eyes. He tapped the flaps of his jacket, seemingly thinking to himself.

“I’m going to give you some advice, Lennon,” he said, his voice softening a little.

“As long as you tie yourself to Dylan, you’re going to be in his shadow.

His mistakes are a reflection on your judgment, so long as you’re connected to him.

Right now, to the world, you’re a player in his story.

And if he falls again—by his own doing or by the hand of others who have a vested interest in seeing him fail, of which there are many—you need to be careful he doesn’t take you down with him. ”