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A dangerous glint entered Tia’s eyes as she moved her focus to me. “Damon is quite the playboy. Did you know? Except he has never let me into his bedroom. I guess I’m not sexy enough for the legendary Damon Rose and his magical cock.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Magical cock, huh? What does it do, activate its shrinking powers when anyone else is in the room?”
Tia cackled with delight. “I really like this one, Damon. You need to keep her around. It’ll be good for that inflated ego of yours.”
“You haven’t given me an answer,” Damon said sternly. “Do you want to stop letting a hack represent you? He’s happy to let the contracts you were already going to get keep coming and continue to take his cut. Sign with me, and I’ll turn you into a brand. I’ll get you sponsorships and deals you didn’t even know were out there.”
“Of course I’m going to sign with you. Who turns down Damon Rose?”
I wanted to barf. Even with the teasing, Tia was making no secret of the fact that she wanted to sleep with Damon. She was practically purring the words while she undressed him with her eyes. To his credit, he was laser focused on the business aspect of the deal, at least for now. I wondered if the man who was willing to sleep with me five years ago after a few seconds of introduction was really going to refrain from sticking his dick in a client for long, though.
Then I remembered I didn’t need to care. Damon could take his “magical” pecker and stick it in a light socket for all I cared.
I was only here for the money. Not even a single part of this whole fiasco was about trying to give him a chance to prove he deserved to know he had a daughter.
Not even a little bit.
But… If I had to sit and watch Tia slather herself all over him for another minute, I thought I might end up tossing my water on her face. To make matters worse, Damon wasn’t exactly beating her away with a stick. He just sat there, letting her flirt.
Yeah. It was time for a bathroom break. The kind of bathroom break that takes a long detour to the bar. I doubted he’d even notice I was gone with Tia’s Instagram-perfect tits in his face.9DamonThis sort of thing made me want to find the nearest beach and start kicking down sandcastles. Fuck. Fundraisers in general weren’t the problem. Rich assholes like myself should open up their wallets and give back. The problem was nobody here cared about the cause. It was all about status and power.
From the top to the bottom, it was a pissing contest, and I was obligated to produce the largest stream to make a good show for Rose Athletic Representatives.
Yoo goddamn hoo.
Part of my image was being the best. I was the Rolls Royce of athletic representation, so I had to make sure I showed I wasn’t shy about throwing money around. That meant I was seated closest to the stage beside Tia Klein herself. I’d also paid enough that Chris, his date, and Chelsea had places at the table. It was all an extravagance, but a necessary one.
The dining hall buzzed with conversation as we took our seats and dishes started to be served. Normally, I would’ve gotten up from my seat and circulated the room, doing my best to shake the right hands and make sure athletes I had my eye on knew who I was and where to find me.
Tonight, I didn’t have the stomach for it. Chelsea had worn the most godawful assortment of clothing I think any woman had ever put on. Yellow. Every single thread was yellow.
Ever since I was a kid, I’d had a particular dislike of the color. And yes, the rumors were mostly true. I had fired Todd and his stupid named self from my office for wearing a yellow tie. The part nobody got right in the story was that Todd also had mustard smeared in his patchy mustache from his lunch. Dried, crusty, mustard. It made me physically sick to look at, and I fired him by reflex.
Knowing Chelsea, someone had tipped her off to the fact that I hated yellow and put her up to this. But I was a grown ass man. It was just a color. I’d survive the night, even if I would need to avert my eyes from the fluorescent blob that was my personal assistant.
Tia sat to my right, where she was busy trying to snap the perfect selfie for her Instagram account. Chelsea was to my left and somehow engaged in animated discussion with Chris’ date, who looked like her brain might’ve fit in a peanut shell.
Was there anyone this woman couldn’t get along with?
