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I blink back tears, overwhelmed by the offer and the emotions flooding through me. A part of me still longs for independence, but another part yearns for this chance to follow my dreams, even if it means accepting help from someone else.
“Spencer,” Aunt Fiona says gently, resting a hand on my arm. “This is an incredible opportunity. I know you’ve always been determined to do things on your own, but sometimes, we all need a little help.”
Her words resonate deeply within me, and as I look at Percival, I can see the sincerity in his dark eyes. He truly wants to help me, and maybe, just maybe, I should let him. With a deep breath, I reach across the table and grasp his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I write. This sounds like winning the lottery. I’ve never considered myself lucky enough.
Percival takes my hand and electricity runs into my veins. What is happening to me?
“Let me do this for you,” he mouths slowly, as if talking to a kid. “I owe you my life.”
“What kind of person would I be if I accepted your offer?” My penmanship is a mess on paper. My hands are sweating.
“A smart one,” he counters with a wink.
Aunt Fiona is looking at us with her blue eyes open like saucers. Her thoughts are evident in those orbs.
“No,” I know he can hear me, but I give him a shake of my head.
We aren’t playing this game.
“At least think about it.” Damn the man is persistent.
“No.” The word leaves my mouth again, and that’s the last thing I’m saying.
Believe me, it will be.
Chapter Seven
Percival
Anastasio“Tasio”Rivera,theworld’s best soccer player, is throwing a tantrum like an opera diva in my office. The walls of glass rattle as his booming voice echoes throughout the building. His complaints drip with frustration and arrogance:
“I can’t score goals looking like this! How are we ever gonna win a championship?” At this point in his career, he should know the jerseys are made with every player’s measure, and the fabric is specially manufactured for the team.
His sharp gaze raked across me and then rested on the bookcase filled with awards earned by various athletes and achievers, past and present. He wouldn’t dare think of taking down one of those trophies! But then again…
Ignoring the urge to close my eyes, I lean back in my chair and think about how to handle him. The reports I got yesterday said that Tasio has been behaving worse than usual. It’s something I needed to get used to when I became his agent two years ago, but now it was taking its toll on me physically. My head throbbed worse than ever, and I wondered if I could process anything he said or do any work at all right now without passing out from pain. Somehow, I still had to ensure everyone got paid what they were owed every couple of weeks and kept our company running smoothly. And yet there will always be things money can’t buy, and frankly, that list just keeps getting longer for me…
“Gotcha,” I declared with a hint of sarcasm. As an agent, it’s my job to ensure my clients get the best outcome, even if that means altering football shirts. “If you want me to be your advocate next time, I expect you to call me before pulling a stunt like this in the locker room. You’re the team’s captain, for crying out loud! Have you considered what type of memes your team will make during their snack breaks? Better watch your back, Tasio. No one wants to look like a drama queen.”
With that, I delivered one last metaphorical slap to his ego, and the man calms down immediately. After that, we chat for a little bit. He reminds me about the upcoming game coming in the next weeks against the team’s legendary rival, Los Angeles Stars. The season’s grand finale was around the corner. As his management head, I had already reserved a balcony for myself—and what’s more, I invited my brother and Adrik to join me. Then, like a bolt out of the blue, it occurred to me that Spencer should also be there. She’d never witnessed such a monumental occasion before; this would truly be something special.
After spending some hours at the office dealing with other urgent matters, I’m opening the door to my home when my phone rings. Fuck, even if I don’t want to, I need to pick up this call.
“Detective Taylor,” I greet him. “I wasn’t expecting news so soon.”
“Then this isn’t the conversation you were looking for, Mr. Hills.”
Hmmm, this man is playing one of his usual games. “What can I do for you, detective?”
“We are following some leads. But I’d like to ask you for a favor.”
I knew it. Someone like Taylor doesn’t give a huge piece of information like Spencer’s phone number without a reason.
“What can I do for you?”
~~~
