As I’m reading the text, I hear Miller say, “One-point-two for three years plus the standard bonuses.”
Damn.
Justice will be happy with that commission. It’s a win-win for everyone.
Especially for the Buzzards when Camacho’s face turns bright red, practically exploding at the offer to the player he just terminated. Bob Miller remains calm. “I understand if you want to have your representative look at these, but I also understand you are currently without representation.”
This is my moment.
I step forward. “Can I offer a solution? My agent, Justice Williams, would be more than happy to look at it and represent you. He’s expecting your call.”
Henry looks around the room, bewildered at what’s going on. Then the door opens, and Ophelia walks in with ... Hannah? What’s she doing here?
Ophelia explains, knotting her hands nervously in front of her. “Don’t be mad at me for sticking my nose in. I ... I had to fix this. And you know me. Before I could stop and think, I was messaging Phaedra and Hannah and emailing Bjorn when Mr. Miller wouldn’t take my calls.”
Hannah looks anywhere in the room but at me. Until Henry crosses the floor in four steps, picking his wife up. As her legs wrap around his waist and they embrace like something out of a cheesy movie, I finally feel Hannah’s gaze shift to me.
What would she do if I crossed the room like that to her?
I shake my head. Where the hell did that thought come from?
Miller clears his throat. “Ahem, are you two finished?” Then he mutters, “So much for the marriage being just for show.”
Seriously, it wouldn’t surprise me if he laid her down and started screwing her right on the conference table with everyone still in the room. They really are in love.
Of course, I could see that the night at The Tower.
I grab a piece of paper and write down Justice’s contact information, sliding it on top of the contract.
It’s time for me to leave.
Hannah also senses she’s no longer needed. I wonder why she was there in the first place.
“Why are you here?” It comes off way more gruff and abrupt than I mean it to. I try to backpedal. “I mean—”
“Ophelia needed moral support. Plus, I did a lot of the research for her, and she thought if they had sports-specific questions, I might be better off answering them. She can be a bit ... scattered.”
I laugh. I can see that. Ophelia could be a poster child for Adderall.
What she said hits me. “You ... you did a lot of the research for this?”
Hannah crosses her arms over her chest. Her very full chest. It’s magnificent. I work extra hard to be polite and keep my gaze on her eyes as she speaks. “Um, yeah. It’s not a secret that I want to be a sportscaster or sports reporter. Researching this stuff is my jam.”
I smile at her. I can’t help it. “Well, I think you must be good at it, sarcastic videos aside. It looks as if we’ve got a new player for our defense.”
I start to walk down the hall, thinking Hannah will follow me to the exit. But she doesn’t. She stands there, nervously glancing back at the conference room.
“What?” I ask. “You coming?”
Hannah’s gaze drops down. “Um, Ophelia drove me here. I have to wait for her.”
I think about the passionate PDA in the conference room. I doubt Ophelia’s going to want Hannah for a third wheel when they’re finally done in there.
“I’ll give you a ride home. They might be a while.”
Hannah doesn’t move.
I raise my eyebrows at her, waiting for her to say something. Do something. Anything, really. “Han?” I say softly.
