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I lower my hands from my face.
“Second cousin,” he corrects, taking a seat back at his desk. “But seriously, what do you think?”
“What do I think? I think that I have given you the names of seven future superstars, and instead of signing one new client out of them for me to look after, you give me the one client in this place who doesn’t want a fucking agent. I think you set me up to fail because he’s been through four of your best guys and you figured what the hell, can’t get any worse.”
Terry’s expression hasn’t shifted. Not one inch. He’s still watching me with a blank, thin-lipped stare. “Are you done?”
“I said okey dokey.”
“It wasn’t your finest moment, but I’ll tell you this much,” he says, leaning forward on his desk. “That is the first time I’ve seen any kind of smile on that man’s lips in a year, or at least in this office.”
“He was laughing at his childish rookie agent, who he clearly thinks has no clue what he’s doing.”
“But you do.”
“I know that, but he doesn’t.”
“So show him. Show me. You said you’re the best. You told me that you’re the future of this place. Now is your chance. Get Parker Lane’s mood and public image up. He’s in his second year, and Cleveland isn’t convinced he wants to stick around, so negotiations for a longer contract have stalled. His last agent—”
“Was in the spotlight more than him. Was it two or three players’ wives he was sleeping with?”
“Three. But not the point I was trying to make. We caught wind that Parker’s looking for new management. So figure out what it is that will make him happy and give it to him. Whatever it takes.”
Basically, my whole job description. I can do this. I can manage Parker fucking Lane. I’ll find him the perfect endorsement that will make him super famous, and that’ll be sure to make him happy. Cleveland will love the publicity, and I’ll not only score him big money, but a big ass contract, too. Fame is the key.
“Okay, Terry. I’ll take on Parker Lane, but when I score him a huge endorsement, and he’s super famous and gets the best contract any kicker has seen in this company, you agree to take another look at Matty B.”
He raises a brow as if pondering my proposal. I already know he’ll agree. He likes a bet, and if he has already looked into him at all, he knows either way he wins.
“Deal.”
Yesss. I reach over to seal it with a handshake, and he grips my hand tight and pulls me in toward him.
“One last thing,” Terry says, rubbing his chin with his free hand, a devilish smirk on his lips.
What the fuck am I missing?
“Parker doesn’t want to be famous.”
“Shit.”
Chapter 2
Parker
Well,thatwentevenworse than I expected. The second my eyes landed on him my palms became sweaty. No man should have the right to look that hot in a suit. But he’s young. Too young. And now he’s my agent. I put feelers out to a few other agencies a few weeks back, and now I’m thinking that was the right thing to do because if GSM believed they could get me more than a single-season contract with Cleveland, they’d be giving me someone more experienced than Jase…whatever his last name is. My mind can only focus on his big green eyes and dimpled smile.
I drive to the gym instead of home, desperate to get a workout in and shake off some of the tension building inside. I’d walked into Terry Grant’s office expecting a seasoned agent who could give me what I want without pimping me out to every fast food brand, not a rookie who is looking to make his name off me.
I hit the treadmill and run out my frustration, music blasting in my ears, blocking out the rest of the world. After a good twenty minutes, I move on to box jumps and follow up with squats. My legs are burning, but it’s exactly what I need. I’m just strapping my feet into the platform of the floor rowing machine when someone taps me on the shoulder.
I look up and find the rookie, Jase, smiling down at me. He can’t be this happy to see me. I caught how he reacted when he walked into the office; he was about as excited to be managing me as I was to have him.
“You don’t work out here,” I say, and he laughs.
“No, I came to find you.”
“Why?”
