Corey looked at Beth, and she inclined her head just slightly, saying she’d read it. He swallowed, remembering the notes on Taran’s computer. A part of him was desperate to see what she’d said about him. Another piece, though, was terrified at the idea. Never had he opened himself up to a person like he had to Taran.
“Give it to me.” Will stepped forward, and Sean handed him two white pieces of paper. A million times faster than Corey ever could, Will scanned the article. He glanced up at Corey twice as he read.
Corey’s stomach sank. He thought he’d prepared himself for anything she’d written. But as Will sat next to him. Corey’s heart lodged in his throat.
“Can I read it to you?” Will asked.
Corey nodded, shut his eyes, and braced himself.
“Fame makes people larger than life, more an idol than a person. Corey Matthews has lived most of his life as a possession of the American people. Someone everyone felt they had the right to know. Myself included. We create beliefs and expectations based on what we claim is the truth we’ve heard. I’ve met dozens of athletes who have surprised me over the years. But never one who not only completely changed my perception and beliefs about them—but also about myself.
“When I walked into Corey Matthews’s apartment, I expected to see collections, art, and photographs of his significant accomplishments, all the things we dream of in a house. I didn’t expect that the wall over his sofa would be framed works of art by his nieces and nephews. I had no idea that his priceless collection would consist of bottle caps from family nights. That the pictures he framed would be of his godchildren’s christenings and snapshots of Christmas mornings. I expected grand, but what I found was better. I didn’t walk into a house; I walked into a home. And that sums up Corey Matthews perfectly. You expect grand, but once you get to know him, you find something much better.”
“Wait.” Corey stopped him as his heart raced in his chest. “This sounds good.”
Will smiled. “I think a part of you knew it would be.”
Corey smiled as Will continued to read. Taran explained that Corey was a person who wanted boundaries and wasn’t unwilling to share and be open but had learned after a lifetime in the limelight that he had to share on his terms. She highlighted his hope that he could share more in the future and, in turn, the media would respect his boundaries. It was almost like she put forth a reasonable argument that the public could get behind and support him.
It was what Corey had been hoping to do when he asked her to think about helping him change his stance with the media.
He swallowed hard. As poorly as Taran had handled everything about this—as much as he wished they could go back in time and she’d talk to him—the article itself was perfect.
“On a personal note.”
Corey’s eyes shot to Will’s, and hope surged in his heart like a shot of adrenaline.
“I owe Corey an apology. For the last few months, I’ve been after something from him. He believes it was a story, but it was more than a story. I was after his trust. And although I didn’t earn it, he gave it to me openly and without hesitation. He deserves everything he’s wished for, and I hope it’s not too late for me to have a part in it.
“So in case you didn’t know, America, the man has a huge heart, and if you give him some time and space, he’ll share it with you. And trust me, it’ll be worth it.”
His mind whirled. Maybe this was fixable. He glanced around the room. Maybe it was all fixable. But to do that, he had to stop running away when things got hard. And not just from Taran.
“Sean.” Corey stood up and walked over to the man who watched him warily.
Sean pulled his shoulders back as if he was bracing himself. Corey stopped directly in front of him and stared down, seeing Sean swallow. Corey smirked. It was nice to know he still intimidated the man, but that wasn’t his intention. He held his hand out.
“I owe you an apology.”
“What?” Sean’s eyes widened, and he looked from Corey’s hand to his face and back again.
“I don’t pay you to be my friend. You aren’t supposed to approve of all my choices, and you’re the guy I want to say, ‘whoa, whoa, think this through.’ I shouldn’t have fired you on a whim, and I clearly remember how miserable you were when I signed the contract for Taran’s article without reading it.” Corey watched the tension drop from Sean’s shoulders, and he took a breath. “I don’t deserve your help, but I’d love it if you were willing to represent me again.”
Sean crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m upping my fee.”
Corey laughed. “Of course you are. That’s fine.” He still held his hand out, and finally, Sean shook it.