Matchpoint of deception

2: The first public disaster

Riley’s POV

I was so fired.

Jax Maddox was currently standing in the middle of a press conference, surrounded by reporters and flashing cameras, looking like he was two seconds away from committing murder.

And I was the reason why.

Let’s rewind.

It all started with an email. A simple, harmless email.

Jax had a scheduled charity meet-and-greet with fans at a fancy rooftop lounge in the city. Easy, right? All I had to do was confirm it. But somewhere between dodging Jax’s unreasonable demands and trying not to have a mental breakdown over how distractingly attractive Leo Carter was, I—well…

I accidentally sent confirmation for the wrong date.

So now, instead of Jax meeting a few VIP fans in a controlled, private setting…

He was standing alone in front of hundreds of screaming tennis fans, shoved into an impromptu press conference at an open venue, with zero preparation.

Oops.

I watched from the sidelines as reporters bombarded him with questions.

"Jax, any thoughts on your last match?"

"Jax, are the retirement rumors true?"

"Jax, who’s that stunning brunette over there glaring at you?"

Wait—what?

Jax’s icy blue eyes snapped directly to me. And my entire body locked up. Oh. s**t.

I scrambled to look busy, flipping through my notepad like I was doing something important. But it was too late.

Jax’s expression was unreadable, but his jaw ticked. His fingers flexed at his sides. He was mad. Really mad.

"Riley," he growled in a dangerously low voice.

I forced a tight-lipped smile. "Yes, boss?"

He stepped off the platform, shoving past people, stalking toward me like a predator. I resisted the urge to turn around and run.

"Tell me," he said, his voice dripping with fake politeness, "why the hell am I standing in front of three hundred people right now?"

I cleared my throat. "Well, funny story…" I let out a nervous laugh. "There may have been a tiny scheduling mix-up—"

Jax exhaled sharply, closing his eyes like he was calling on every ounce of patience in his body. "Tiny?" He glared at me. "You sent me into a PR ambush."

I winced. "It’s… not that bad?"

The second I said it, one of the reporters shouted—

"JAX, IS IT TRUE YOU WERE SPOTTED WITH A MODEL LAST NIGHT?”

The crowd erupted.

Jax turned back toward the cameras, his jaw tightening, and for a split second, I swore I saw something dangerous flicker in his expression.

Then, slowly, he turned back to me.

"Not that bad, huh?" he echoed.

I bit my lip. "Okay, maybe a little bad?"

Jax let out a sharp breath, rolling his shoulders like he was physically restraining himself from saying something that would get him arrested.

"You’re enjoying this," he accused.

"Not at all," I lied.

Jax ran a hand through his hair, looking like he was deciding whether to fire me or bury me alive. "Fix it. Now."

Before I could even attempt damage control, a new voice joined the chaos.

"Well, this is entertaining."

My stomach flipped.

Leo Carter strode up beside us, looking effortlessly relaxed, hands in his pockets, eyes glinting with amusement.

"Didn’t take you for the PR disaster type, Maddox," he teased.

Jax shot him a murderous glare. "Not now, Carter."

But Leo was loving this. He looked at me, his golden-brown eyes dancing with mischief. "I’ve got to say, Riley, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this flustered."

Jax bristled. "I am not flustered."

Leo smirked. "Sure. Totally convincing."

I wanted to die. Because while Jax was giving Leo a death glare, Leo was looking at me.

And it was dangerous. The way his eyes flickered down, slow and assessing, like he was memorizing every inch of me. The way his smirk deepened when I shifted under his gaze.

The air between us was thick.

I swore, if Jax weren’t standing there seething, Leo would—

"Leave," Jax ordered Leo, cutting the moment dead.

Leo laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. But I’ll be seeing you soon, Riley." His voice dropped lower. "Very soon."

And just like that, he was gone.

I blinked, feeling like I had just survived a natural disaster.

Jax glared at me. "Focus."

I snapped back to reality. "Right. Fixing. Right away."

Jax crossed his arms, watching me closely. "This better be the last time you screw up like this."

I flashed him a mockingly sweet smile. "Oh, definitely."

But deep down?

I really doubted it.

The rest of the press conference was a blur of damage control. I rushed to the event coordinator, scrambling to smooth things over while Jax fielded more questions, looking every bit the arrogant, untouchable sports star he was.

By the time we finally escaped the chaos, my nerves were fried and I was sweating.

Jax walked ahead of me, his shoulders tense, and I barely had time to catch my breath before he whirled around, his eyes blazing red.

"Do you have any idea what kind of mess that was?"

I swallowed. "I know. It was bad. But I—"

"Bad?" He let out a humorless laugh. "You just threw me to the wolves, Riley. Do you know how much damage a single misstep in the media can cause?"

I winced. "I do. And I’m sorry. It was an honest mistake—"

"An honest mistake that just handed the press their next five headlines," he snapped.

I hesitated. "I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ve handled worse things."

Jax’s eyes flashed in anger. "They asked me about my dating life."

I blinked, confused about what that meant, “they always do that though. Don’t they?”

"No!” he ground out, "not like this. Now there’s going to be speculation about which model I was supposedly with last night."

I bit the inside of my cheek, considering my words carefully. "I get why you're frustrated. But… isn’t that kind of inevitable? The press is always going to talk about you, Jax. Today just gave them a head start."

His jaw tightened like he was resisting the urge to strangle me. "You think this is funny?"

I shook my head quickly. "No. Not at all."

Jax exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "You’re lucky I need an assistant more than I need revenge right now."

The tension in my shoulders eased—just a little. "So… I still have a job?"

He shot me a look so sharp it could have cut glass. "Barely."

Not exactly reassuring, but I'd take it.

I started to turn away when his voice stopped me.

"Be in my penthouse at three a.m. sharp tomorrow. No excuses."

I stifled a groan. "What happened to four a.m.?"

His smirk was slow and lethal. "Oh, that’s still happening. But before practice, we’re going to have a little chat about competence."

I pressed my lips together, biting back a retort. "Understood."

I let out a long breath, muttering a string of curses as I walked away.

One month, Riley. Just one month.

And if I made it out of this job alive? If I survived Jax Maddox? I was going to buy myself a huge damn trophy.