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“Knox, you’re a solid starting pitcher who could be a difference maker in a World Series. You’re not going to be a name that the casual fan knows, but hey, if you want people to blow smoke up your ass, by all means, go with RTA. I know they may have all the connections to promise endorsement deals and a dedicated marketing team just for you, but the reality is that not even the most recognizable faces in baseball have very lucrative endorsement deals. This isn’t the NBA or the NFL. Baseball is America’s pastime, but endorsement deals just don’t work the same in this league and if anyone wants to tell you differently, they’re lying to your face.”
The wiseass grin was gone from Knox’s lips now, but he cocked an eyebrow. “And why would RTA lie to me?”
“Because they reserve their best resources and their hardest efforts for their one percent superstars—of which they have many—and they’d rather not put in the work to fix the actual problem with someone like you. They want you to just shut up and take this demotion to reliever, because they claim they can make up for the loss of income by promising commercials for sports drinks and deodorant, but I think even you know those are long shots.”
I could almost see the glimmer of asshole fun in Knox’s eyes being snuffed out as I spoke, but I didn’t stop. I went on, giving him the full truth—that even deodorant and razor commercials were reserved for the household names of the sport. The sluggers who hit bombs out of the park and wound up on SportsCenter at night.
“So once you sign that contract with RTA, what you’ll actually end up getting are a few autograph signings at car dealerships, and we both know that a handful of low five-figure endorsement deals won’t make up for the fact that you’ll be finishing your current contract as a reliever, because that tanks your already-damaged market value going into free agency next year,” I explained breezily. “It’s going to tell other teams that they can get away with paying you reliever money for the final years of your career, and that’s not what you deserve considering the pitcher you are.”
I caught Knox’s throat moving as he swallowed. “What kind of pitcher am I?” he asked.
“You’re one of the few in this league who only needs one pitch to strike out your batter,” I said, referring to his filthy cutter. “You’re easily a starter. You just don’t have the right representation to help you fight the reputation you’ve garnered over the years.”
“And what reputation is that?” Knox asked, that twinkle back in his eye.
“Asshole,” I replied.
The next few seconds of silence felt like an eternity. But then Knox gave a snort and a laugh.
“Fair enough.”
And for the rest of the meeting, despite inserting a few lines here and there, Adam let me take the lead. When Knox asked how the hell we planned on getting him out of his shitty contract, Adam and I brainstormed on our feet, eventually coming up with a potential trade to the reigning champion New York Empires this season, since Adam had a close relationship with the team, given most of their players was represented by either Adam or Iain.
“Their starting rot
ation’s been plagued by injuries, and we know they’re currently looking at Trey Bock to fill out their last spot, but he’s just coming back from Tommy John surgery, and he’s more expensive than you with three years left on his contract,” I said. “You’ve got your noted ‘behavioral issues,’ of course, but if they know you’re represented by Adam, they’ll be much more likely to take a shot. And considering the Empires are a lock to win the championship again this year, if you can win with them, you’ll have no trouble getting a solid contract once you’re a free agent after this season.”
I commended myself for speaking calmly the whole time despite the absolute adrenaline rush coursing through my veins, especially as we wrapped up the meeting and got up to say goodbye to a completely different Knox.
He was visibly pleased.
Trying to hide it, sure, but pleased nonetheless.
“Alright, well… I’ll be in touch after I talk with my team,” he said, nodding with a bit of laughter in his eyes that acknowledged the total one-eighty he just did. He was on his way out, tossing a lazy glance over his shoulder as he said, “But if nothing changes my mind as it stands, I’ll be going with you guys.”
Fuck. Yes.
Bitch.
Okay, I didn’t mean that last part. It was just that adrenaline was still coursing hot through my veins as I stared at the door. I felt practically breathless, like my entire body was buzzing from head to toe as I brimmed with triumph and excitement, and just a little bit of a spiteful fuck you reserved strictly for Schilling.
“You have no idea how badly I need to fuck you right now.”
I grinned and when I finally turned to face Adam, his brilliant blue eyes slammed into mine, fixed so hotly on me that I actually wanted him to lunge forward and just rip off all my clothes.
“Fuck me then,” I said, gently tugging on his silk tie as he circled his arms around my waist and pressed a kiss to my lips. He groaned against my mouth as I dropped one hand down between us and cupped his package, stroking gently till I felt him harden in my palm.
“Engelman’s already goddamn texting me to see how it went,” he said, but for how tormented he sounded, he didn’t stop kissing me. “I just need you to know that you’re fucking incredible,” he murmured, making my heart flutter in my chest. “I keep thinking I’ve found out everything there is to know about you,” his voice was a near whisper now, “but you keep surprising me every day.”
I smiled against his lips, wishing I could just climb all over this man right now. “Ditto,” I said just as a knock came at the door.
We separated a second before Engelman’s assistant poked his head into the room. “Adam? Engelman’s asking for—”
“Yeah. Coming,” Adam said, clearing his throat and following him outside. But in the hall, he shot a glance over his shoulder at me, hitting me with a single second of that sexy grin and sending one last thrill darting up my spine.
And as I stood alone in the conference room for the next minute or so, just basking in the glorious aftermath of that meeting, I kept asking myself the same question. Is this even real?
But as I laughed to myself, finally turning off the light and walking out of the conference room, I answered my own question.
