Rookie Mistake (23 page)

Hollis is wrong; I’m not my father’s daughter. I’m nothing like him. The idea that I’m lying to him, that I’m about to betray him, nearly brings tears to my eyes. I can’t help but remember being a little girl in this room watching him work his mysterious magic from behind that desk and wishing one day I could do the same. I remember bouncing on his knee, playing with his highlighters, drawing pictures for him that he taped across every surface he could find. He was so proud of me. His little girl.

But that’s the problem with us. That’s all I’ll ever be to him; a little girl playing in his office, and that’s simply not who I am anymore.

And I’m about to prove it.

“Sloane,” Dad says, calling for my attention.

“Yeah?”

“Are you ready?”

Am I?

“Yes.”

He offers me the pen, holding it out to me with a convivial smile.

“Ladies first.”

Sun Life Stadium

Miami, FL

Sloane is magic. She’s better than music, better than sex. Better than anything or anyone I’ve ever known in my life. With one conversation she set me straight for the game where I lead the boys to a decisive victory. It was all I focused on. Me and the game, the ball in my hand and the field under my feet. Matthews in the end zone. Anthony on the run. Avery breaking through the line like it was made of paper, like the tape at the end of a race he’d run and won. He’s a force of nature we all forgot about while he was hidden behind Duncan Walker, but now that he’s out, no one will ever forget his name again.

After the game, the reporters ask for him. They ask for Tyus and I to stand with him, snapping pictures of the three of us together, smiling, young, and hot. They go ape shit over the youth of the team. The promise of the season. We’ve only lost one game so far, and with me at the helm and this O-line at my disposal, we could go all the way. The Super Bowl is in the air and we’re all getting high off it.

“Holy shit, man,” Colt laughs as we leave the press room. He’s literally bouncing with each step, too jazzed up to exist in one space. “Did you see that?! They fucking love us.”

Tyus snorts, unimpressed as always. “Of course they do. We just won a game. See how much they love us when we lose.”

“Nah, I mean the cameras. The photographers. They love us, the three of us. We’ve gotta do something with that.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask.

Colt stops in front of our lockers to smack both Tyus and I on the chest with the backs of his hands. “This! Us! The three of us. We’re in the spotlight right now. We have to make the most of it while we can.”

“You sound like my agent,” Tyus warns him.

“Because I’m smart, dude,” he replies, tapping his temple. “We need to do an ad campaign together. Something before the season is over, in case we start losing.”

“Wow. Thanks for the faith,” I mutter.

“Don’t get bitchy. I’m serious. This tide could change tomorrow and we’d be idiots not to strike while we’re hot. We need a company that’s young. Something that will get us a lot of exposure with people our age. People who want to see us naked.”

“American Apparel?” I suggest.

“Sick! No! Come on, help me out here.”

“Call your agent. I’m sure he’ll have ideas.”

“He won’t,” Colt grumbles, his eager face falling. “The guy’s fuckin’ worthless.”

“Well, if you come up with something, call my agent,” Tyus tells him seriously. He grabs his duffel from in front of his locker, slinging the heavy bag over his shoulder. “If you can find a good hook, I’m in.”

“For real?” Colt asks excitedly.

“Yeah, man. I’m all for getting this gorgeous face out there. And if I’m standing next to you ugly assholes, I’ll look even better.” He flashes us a grin, throws up two fingers, and saunters out of the locker room.

Colt turns to me, flashing his favorite smile. His closing smile. “What about you, Trey? Are you in?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I don’t even know what I’d be ‘in’ for, and neither do you. If you come up something solid, let me know. I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll have my agent give the Hotness a call when we figure it out.”

“Sloane doesn’t handle my endorsements.”

“Who does?”

I pause, not sure what the answer is to that. If Sloane was able to manage it, Brad Ashford isn’t my endorsements agent anymore. But if he’s not, then who is?

“Call me,” I tell him evasively. “Not your agent. You. I’ve talked to that guy before. He’s skeevy.”

He clicks his tongue in the back of his throat, his brow pinching with annoyance. “Yeah, I know. I gotta get a new agent.”

“Join the club,” I mumble under my breath.

Colt grabs his bag while I finish packing mine. He slaps my ass as he walks past, promising to call me in the morning. I feel weird about the whole exchange.

“Hey, Trey!” he calls from the door, standing half in and half out. “You got visitors out here.”

“Who?!”

“The Hotness and some old dude.”

Oh shit
, I think anxiously. Sloane and Brad Ashford. This cannot be good.

I look around the locker room, making sure it’s empty. Everyone else who wasn’t delayed by the press should already be on the bus and the coaches are in their interviews now. The place is a ghost town.

“Let ‘em in.”

Colt steps out of view, holding the door open. Sloane walks in, and even though I’m expecting to see her, she’s an instant surprise. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen her out of work clothes, and half of those times were when she was naked. She rarely does casual, but tonight she’s in white sneakers, dark jeans, an unzipped yellow hoodie, and a very familiar orange tank top with my name stretched across her breasts. Her hair is down, her make up heavier than usual. She smiles that playful smile of hers, the one I remember from the airport the morning we met. The one that’s ready to give you the ride of your life if you’re man enough to follow her. To let her lead.

I nearly cross the room to her, intent on taking her in my arms and kissing those lips, telling her to take me where she wants me to go, when I remember she’s not alone.

An older man steps into the room behind her. He’s an even bigger surprise than she is.

It’s not Brad Ashford, but his face is still somehow familiar. I can’t place him but I know I’ve seen him before.

He’s Brad’s age, in his mid-fifties. He’s dressed in business casual; crisp, dark slacks and a white polo shirt neatly tucked under a black belt, Nikes on his feet. He smiles when he sees me, and the thing that strikes me immediately is how real it is. How different from Brad’s smiles that always felt hollow and pointless. Almost creepy. When this guy smiles it reaches his eyes, green and eager. Sharp.

“Trey, this is Berny Dawe,” Sloane introduces us as the door slams shut behind them. “He’s a sports agent based out of L.A.”

I offer him my hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“You too, Trey. You too.” He takes my hand in both of his. “Hell of a game. Congrats on the win.”

“Thank you.”

“Sloane and I streamed it on the plane ride over. She had to show me how,” he says with a chuckle, grinning appreciatively at Sloane. “That dive you made into the end zone for the two-point conversion, that was ballsy. No one saw that coming.”

“I don’t run it in very often. I’m not fast enough.”

“It’s good to keep them guessing, though, right? Throw them a curveball now and then. In this business you should never let anyone think they’ve got you pinned down. Not even yourself.”

I smile appreciatively. “I’ll remember that.”

“Watching you play, I think you already know it. You’re already living it, and it’s going to take you far.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And hey, thank you for giving us a good show. You and your crew are fun to watch.”

Sloane pulls a white sheet of paper from her bag, handing it to me. “We brought you a present.”

I look it over quickly, my heart skipping a beat when I read the signatures at the bottom. “Is this what I think it is?”

“It’s your release from the Ashford Agency,” Sloane confirms proudly. “Once you sign there at the bottom, you’re free.”

“Brad won’t be my agent anymore?”

“No.”

I look into her eyes. “And neither will you?”

Her lips tighten slightly. “No. Neither will I.”

“I don’t know exactly how I feel about that.”

“It’s what you wanted.”

“Yeah, I know, but now I have to find a new agent. Where am I going to find someone who will fight for me the way you did?”

“I have an idea about that.” She takes a step closer to Berny with a smile. “I think you should sign with
us
.”

I frown, not getting it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You want me split my contract again? Between two different agencies?”

“I don’t work for the Ashford Agency anymore. I work for the DAK. Dawe, Ashford, and Kane.”

“Who’s Kane?”

“Hollis. He and I jumped ship tonight.”

I blink hard, not sure I understand her right. “Jumped ship? Do you mean you quit?”

She’s calm when replies, “I do. After I got you released from your contract with Brad, I resigned. And on the plane ride here from L.A. I joined a new agency with Berny and Hollis. Well, we kind of formed a new agency on the plane ride over.” She puts her hand on Berny’s shoulder. “Berny used to be my dad’s boss back when he first got started as an agent. They worked together for years, lived like brothers, and then my dad being my dad up and left him and took every big league client they had to form his own agency. He trashed Berny’s name, told everyone he was skimming money off his clients—“

“A lie, by the way,” Berny points out. “In case you were wondering.”

“Never a shred of evidence to prove it,” Sloane confirms. “Berny immediately offered up all of his records for an investigation, total transparency, and when it was over he was cleared, but the damage was done. Dad had sunk him.”

“Rumor is stronger than religion in this business. Once it started going around that I was a crook, there was no stopping it.”

“No one cared that he had been one of the best agents around for the last ten years. Dad had the big name clients and the shiny new office so that’s where they went. No one would partner with Berny after that so he’s been working alone for the last seventeen years.”

“But I never stopped fighting for my clients,” he assures me.

“Even though he’s been a one man show, he still has eight clients on his roster. Three NBA, two NHL, two NFL, and one PGA.”

“All of them active.”

“All of them happy,” Sloane adds pointedly.

“But if I sign with your agency, that means you’ll be my agent again?” I ask Sloane carefully.

She shakes her head. “No. You’ll be Berny’s client, not mine.”

“But I’ll pay Sloane a finder’s fee for bringing you to me,” Berny promises. “She won’t be taken advantage of. Not by my agency.”

“
Our
agency,” she reminds him.

He laughs, nodding heavily. “By
our
agency. Yes. I’m going to have to get used to saying that again.”

I look at Sloane. “Can I talk to you about this alone for a second?”

Berny puts up his hands, already backing away. “This is a big decision, a lot of change. You two should definitely talk about it. I’ll wait in the hall. Holler if you need me.”

“Thanks, Berny,” Sloane calls after him.

I wait for the door to close behind him before I sit down on the bench in front of the lockers.

“You’re sure about attaching yourself to him?” I ask quietly. “You said your dad ruined his name.”

“Yeah, years ago. The client and agent pool is full of fresh faces, people barely older than me who don’t know anything about the scandal. And with the Ashford name back on the letterhead, we’ll win over some of the old guys who do remember.”

“What about your dad? Won’t he be pissed you’re teaming up with his old boss?”

“He’d be pissed if I went to any agency other than his, but I can’t stay with him. He’ll never let me out of his shadow. Berny is excited about Hollis and I. He’s terrible with technology and he’s an old guy falling out of touch with young recruits. We get the benefit of stepping straight into a small, established agency without having to start our own from the ground up while he gets the benefit of putting our faces on the website and having us show up at events to pull in new, young clients. It’s win-win.”

“And you really think this is the best move for me and my career?”

Sloane’s face is open and honest as she nods down at me. “Yeah, I do. I trust him. Hollis and I vetted him. We ran a background check, looked at his financials, talked to his clients. They’re all happy with him. No one would even consider leaving. And he’s a one man show but he’s making money. Not the amounts the Ashford Agency does, but he’s turned a substantial profit every year for the last nine years, plus he’s been in the business for almost two decades. He got a law degree just because he was curious. He wanted to understand contracts better. He knows the game and he can play it like a champ. And with Hollis bringing almost all of his clients with him, we’re in a very good place. We can drop some big names when we’re scouting.”