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He was driving us back to my apartment after the game while I was reading off all his emails. They all poured in right after reporters sent out the pictures from tonight. Normally, they wait till the next day but tonight, they sent them out as soon as the game was over. I read through each email, only telling him the magazine names and the basics. I confirmed with the ones he said 'yes' to and replied with an email, the others I replied and said no, and a few I just ignored. But the last few I've told him about, he just keeps refusing.

I frowned and turned to look at him when I realized what was happening. "Are you waiting for a specific magazine to reach out to you?"

He hummed and nodded once. He glanced at me and I knew instantly what he was about to do.

I sat up straighter, my eyes wide. "City Scoop?"

"Exactly."

"Wh-what? Why? You do realize that City Scoop is the magazine responsible for all your bad press, right? They released the first article and they also released so many more and made sure they couldn't be taken down. City Scoop is the only magazine that hasn't taken any of your articles down yet. And you still want to work with them?"

"That's exactly why I want to work with them, actually. They love ruining people's reputations, this is happening with me for the second time." He looked at me as we stopped at a red light. "They're the reason my last assistant was fired too. She leaked personal information to them because they offered to pay her. Then they revealed her name to the public and painted her out to be the bad guy despite being the ones who bribed her. I'm not the only one they do this to. It's happened to other guys on the team. They tried to make a scandal on Michael and Amelia but they weren't able to get any solid proof. I'm tired of their bullshit."

"So you'll do an interview with them? How does that make sense?"

He shifted gears and started driving as the light turned green. "This interview is my only chance at really giving them a piece of my mind. There's something you have to do when they reach out. Because they will, I know they will."

I hesitated, "What do you want me to do?"

"Make sure the interview is live."

I stared at him. "That's a big bet. Isn't it too risky?"

"If it's not live, they'll just cut out what I tell them."

I thought for a minute, staring out the window. "Are you sure?" I faced him again.

He nodded confidently. "I'm sure." His phone dinged in my lap with another email.

I opened it to answer it, stopping when I read the name.

City Scoop.

I tapped on the email, reading it thoroughly.

Dear Vince Hunter, if possible, we would like to schedule a one-on-one interview with you for this coming Monday, the 25th. Please let us know if you're interested and we'll get in touch with your assistant or manager to start preparing for the interview. You're free to come to our studio or choose the location as per your wish. Let us know. - City Scoop Magazine.

"You really want to do an interview with them?" I asked.

"Yes, Tiffany," he sighed, nearing my apartment building.

"Okay," I mumbled, typing back a formal reply. I couldn't tell them my email address, so I told them James' instead. I then handed the phone to him and took my seatbelt off. "Anything else?" I asked.

He paused and then asked, "How much have you packed?"

"Most of the apartment is done. I'll be done by tomorrow afternoon. You can send the movers tomorrow evening or the day after. Whatever works for you."

"Let me see how much you've packed. I need to know what to tell the movers." He took his seatbelt off.

I eyed him for a minute. "You're coming upstairs?"

He nodded. We climbed out and I took the hat off, handing it to him. He pulled it on and we walked in, stepping into the elevator. I pressed the button to my floor and sighed, looking up at the light as it flickered again. "Why won't your building just have the power supply checked?" he scoffed.

"How would I know?" The elevator jerked once, the light flickering more than earlier. "I think..." I trailed off, turning to face him. "We'll be stuck."

He gave me a blank look. "No shit, Tiffany."

The elevator jerked, a loud thud coming from the top before the light went out completely. There was a soft buzz at first and then silence. The generator should power up any minute. I waited one minute, then two, then three, but it never turned on.

"Are you kidding? Is there no generator?" he asked.

"There is. Maybe it's not working?"

He huffed loudly.

I rolled my eyes, glad he couldn't see me. "You know, I didn't ask you to come with me. You're the one who wanted to see just how much I packed."

"I wouldn't have come if I knew this would happen," he replied.

I mumbled under my breath, "Whatever." I leaned against the wall, folding my arms across my chest. It would be back on any minute. It's not like I haven't been stuck in an elevator before. I have... Only once. The elevator jerked and I took in a sharp breath, grabbing the first thing I could reach.

"Ms. Tiffany," he said after a long pause.

"What?" I cleared my throat.

"Are you scared of the dark?"

"No," I huffed, "I'm scared of dying in an elevator. They're not supposed to jerk around like this are they?" I bit back a whimper as it fell a little lower. I gasped, "What if it falls down the shaft?"

"And why would that happen? It's a secure building, stop freaking out. And if you hold onto my arm any tighter, you'll be responsible for the damage done to my playing arm."

I softened my grip a little, fisting the sleeve of his shirt now but shifted closer to him until I felt his arm brushing against mine. I heard the familiar buzz of the power turning back on and within a few moments, it did. I turned to look at him and found him already facing my way while leaning against the wall, resting his head against it.

"See. We didn't die," came his smart reply before the elevator continued and opened at my floor.

I unlocked the door and we walked in. He helped me pack a little more and I made enough dinner for us. After having dinner, he left, telling me he'd be here tomorrow afternoon with the movers to pick me up.

He took a step to go back to the elevator but stopped, turning to me. "Tiffany."

"Yes?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"You really did... do great today," he nodded softly.

My brows twitched in surprise. "Is that a compliment?"

He rolled his eyes before shaking his head at me. "This is why I don't compliment you otherwise."

"But you want to?"

"Goodnight, Tiffany." He turned and started walking.

"Do you?" I called out after him.

He didn't reply or stop, he just stepped into the elevator, glancing at me. "Maybe!" he called out right before the doors closed.

I scoffed softly, closing the apartment door, locking it shut, and going into my room. I changed and got into bed, turning the lights off, feeling a little exhausted.

Tomorrow, Vince has a photoshoot with Arena Sports and Adorned, two sports brands that some of the other team players have worked with. He also has a meeting with his PR team. He's lying to them about our relationship. He doesn't trust the team even though their job is to make sure he has good publicity. Since they somewhat failed to do their job these past six months, he's not willing to tell them the truth. He also has practice before the photoshoots and tomorrow instead of working out in the morning, he said he'll go in the evening.

Vince has a personal trainer within the gym that's in his apartment complex. Instead of going to any other gym, he usually just works out there. Once in a while, a reporter swings by to get his picture for the latest updates. I saw a few in the six months I wasn't working for him.

The next morning my alarm rang and I got myself out and dressed. I figured I should be more careful with what I wear because I know I'll be photographed everywhere I go now. It's kind of scary to think about it like that. I settled for a pair of jeans with a plain white tank and a peach-pink mini button-up cardigan to go on top of that. I showered, got dressed, and put my hair up in a high ponytail. I was eating french toast when my doorbell rang. I answered the door knowing it was Vince.

Normally, I would go pick him up but he's here now. How ironic. Well, it's only for today. I'll be living with him soon enough. I grabbed my stuff, finished the toast, and answered the door.

"Ready?" he asked immediately.

I nodded, locking the door. So we left, heading to the stadium for practice. There were more paparazzi roaming about the stadium than there usually are.

He parked the car and turned to me. "There's a spare pair of sunglasses in the glove compartment. Put them on. They might be a bit too big but..." he trailed off with a shrug.

I took them out and slipped them on. "I feel like a spy," I mumbled.

He huffed beside me and turned the car off, shaking his head at me while pulling his own sunglasses down from his head and onto his eyes. He climbed out and got the door for me, taking my hand as soon as I got out. I glanced at our hands while he locked the car while paparazzi spotted us and began rushing over. Vince gave my hand a little tug, urging me to walk faster. "We don't actually want to answer questions. Walk faster," he sighed.

"It's only eight in the morning, Jesus, I can't walk any faster than this," I mumbled.

He pulled me closer to him as we reached the entrance and security opened the door for us. He pushed me in front of him, keeping his hands on my waist as he walked behind me until we made it inside. His thumb brushed against my skin where my tank rode up an inch while he stopped and turned to me, making a show out of our presence. "You can sit with the other assistants in the lounge room."

"Oh, you won't make me sit out in the stands while you practice anymore?" I pulled on a smile, pushing the sunglasses to my head and standing on my toes, going closer to him.

"Hmm, there's no paparazzi in there, so you don't have to be there."

I nodded in understanding. I couldn't let his orders like that make me feel even a little hurt. This is what I signed up for. "All right."

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