When I turned into the driveway, I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the cameras coming in our direction. They were smart, though. None of them stepped on her property. But I knew they were filming. I pulled up right behind Mick, as far as I could.
“The cameras are rolling so don’t say anything,” I instructed as I put the car into park. “Don’t look at them. Don’t answer any questions. Just keep your head down and walk into the house.”
She nodded again and adjusted her sunglasses on her face, digging for her keys in her purse. I grabbed her bag from the back seat so I wouldn’t have to get it once we got out.
“Ok, let’s go.”
We opened our car doors at the same time and made our way to her house. We could hear the reporters yelling questions in our direction, but they were far enough down the driveway, we couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Within seconds we were inside the house and face-to-face with Mick.
“What the hell is going on out there?” he asked. He had his hands on his hips and a truly confused look on his face. “We drove up and didn’t even get out of the car before all these people started shouting questions at us. Jaxon was so entertained I could hardly get him in the door.”
On cue, I heard Jaxon yell from the front of the house, “Mom! Jason! Come look at all the news vans! One of them has a big satellite on top of it!”
I turned to Addison and smirked hopefully. “See? I told you he’d be fine with it.”
She rolled her eyes and made her way over to the refrigerator, grabbing a carton of eggs. I guess all the media attention didn’t deter from her plans to make us brunch.
“How long is this going to last, Jason?” she asked as she cracked eggs into a bowl. She was moving frantically. I knew she was anxious about all this and I wanted to ease her concerns. It wasn’t that she was afraid for her safety. Or worried that Jaxon would be traumatized. She just didn’t do well being the center of attention. It made her nervous and uncomfortable. The gala was one thing . . . she had mentally prepared for it. But there was no way to mentally prepare for people to stake out your house.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I’m assuming people are curious right now because of you being a single mom, a widow at that.”
Mick sat down at the kitchen barstool, watching Addison work. “So what does she do in the meantime?” Mick asked. “She can’t exactly take Jaxon out of the house with all those people out front.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure what the protocol is for this. I’ve lived in an apartment with good security since I could afford it, and only dated people who could afford security, too.”
“Do we need to get security?” Mick asked with concern written all over his face.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “But I’ve already offered it to the school since that’s public property.”
I jumped when Addison slammed the frying pan onto the stove and began mixing the eggs furiously. I walked up behind her and grabbed her hands, stopping her from mixing and taking the bowl away from her. Once I had put it on the counter, I laced my fingers through hers and wrapped my arms around her.
“Tell me what part of this is freaking you out so much,” I said quietly in her ear. “I know all of it . . . but what specifically?”
“I don’t know, Jason,” she said, leaning her head back on my shoulder for support. “I don’t know. I don’t like the attention. I don’t want the looks of pity. Or even looks of contempt because I know those are coming, too. I don’t want to worry that every move we make will end up on the news. I’m just . . . I like living a quiet life. I’ve had too much drama.” She sighed deeply. “I just don’t want any more drama.”
“Ok. I get it,” I said, rubbing my hands up and down her arms. “Let’s make this as drama-free as we can, ok?”
“How?” she asked, slowly starting to relax in my arms. I reached over and turned the stove off.
“I think the first thing we should do is get Adam and Judy on the phone.”
“Who’s Judy?” she asked quietly as her body finally settled down.
“Judy is the team publicist,” I said. “Any time there is a crisis or big event happening with the team, she’s the one who puts out all the press releases and statements. She figures out what we’re going to say to the media and the best way for it to be said.”
“Can she figure out a nice way to say, ‘Get the hell off my lawn’?”
I chuckled. “Probably. Come on,” I said, leading her over to the living room and sitting her on the couch. “I’ll put the call on speaker phone so you can be involved in the whole thing.”