“Yes, that’s him. He went on to become a sports agent after he retired.”
“A sports agent. Pssh!” she tutted. “His ass needs therapy, Jesus, and the Holy—”
“Resha,” I warned.
She pushed out a breath on a sigh. “So why’re you telling me all of this?”
I bit my bottom lip before continuing. “Because I’m thinking of going to see him just to ask about this financial advisor he’s recommending.” I rushed the last part out before flinching in anticipation of her reaction.
“Oh hell no, D! How could you even think to go see that son of a bitch again after what he did? How the hell would that thought even form in your mind? Have you lost it?”
“I know, I know,” I repeated over and over to calm Resha’s tirade. “Just hear me out. Leonard wouldn’t give me the name or any other information on the financial advisor he’s using. I even asked Mike McClellan if he knew the name but he didn’t. And the more I think about it, the uneasier I get thinking this person is out there scamming these athletes. If Darryl is recommending this advisor to all of his clients, they could be losing millions of dollars. I can’t just sit back and watch that happen ifI can do something about it. This is why I got into personal finance in the first place. To help people manage their own finances better so that they wouldn’t be at the losing end of some morally corrupt institutions or individuals who go out of their way to part people from their money. I—”
“All right, all right, Mother Teresa, I see what you’re getting at,” she stated flatly, holding her hand up.
I frowned. “I was just getting warmed up.”
“Well cool it back down. You’ve convinced me. I don’t like it but I see why you feel obligated to reach out to that slime ball rat of an ex-husband of yours. Hell, he could be in on it, too. And that means he might go to jail andthatis something I can get behind,” Resha finished with a lightness in her voice at the thought of Darryl facing prison time.
His involvement in this possible crime was something I’d briefly considered. I didn’t believe he would be capable of setting his athletes up in such a manner, but hell, I’d been married to the man for eight years and thought he was faithful. I obviously didn’t know him as well as I thought I had. In the intervening six years since our divorce, I’d had absolutely zero contact with him. A lot could change in six years. The reality was, I was contemplating walking into a situation I didn’t know very much about.
“I know that look. Your mind’s made up already,” Resha stated, pulling my attention back to her.
I nodded.
“Just be careful, D. I don’t fucking trust that ex of yours.”
“That makes two of us.” Were the last words before I hung up with Resha. As I turned off my computer, I set a reminder in my calendar for the next day to call Darryl Wright’s office and make an appointment for as soon as possible. I’d found the number to his office online already. Resha was right, I had already made up my mind.
****
Tyler
“That’s a wrap!” the director yelled from behind the three cameras that were all pointed in my direction.
I pushed out a breath and dropped the plastered grin I’d been wearing for this commercial shoot. I was doing a commercial for a deodorant brand that was one of my major sponsors. I was in Los Angeles and had an early morning flight out to head back to Williamsport and catch a flight with the team to head to our final scrimmage of the season which was on the East Coast. The season hadn’t even officially started yet and my schedule was just revving up. Typically, I thrived on the early and pre-season energy, but as I discarded the fake football uniform I’d worn for the shoot and redressed in the jeans and button up T-shirt I’d worn to the set, I realized football was the last thing I wanted to think about.
“Hey there,” a female voice purred behind me just as I placed the last of my belongings into my bag and started to head for the door.
I turned and internally frowned but outwardly I plastered on the same phony smile I’d adorned for the camera. “Hey yourself,” I greeted Amy, one of the director’s assistants. The gleam in her brown eyes told me what she wanted before her lips even parted. Too bad for her, this visit wouldn’t go as the my previous one had.
“I was thinking we could go back to that sushi restaurant you loved the last time you were here, and then maybeee …” she purred again while letting her pointer finger trail up the middle of my chest.
My eyes lowered to her hand on my body before lifting to meet her eyes, shaking my head.
A pout formed in her pink-gloss coated lips.
“I’ve already got plans,” I responded, shortly.
“With who?” she questioned, folding her arms across her chest.
I raised an eyebrow, frowning. “Not with you. Excuse me,” was all I said before brushing past her and making a beeline for the door. It’d be a cold day in hell before I answered to any woman I didn’t have a claim on. The car service the deodorant company hired for me was already waiting at the door as soon as I stepped outside. I quickly entered the backseat of the car and confirmed with the driver that I was headed back to my hotel, while pulling out my phone.
I pressed the button to FaceTime the only woman who held my attention these days. A frown marred my face when I got no response. Los Angeles was a few hours ahead of Williamsport and it was well after six p.m. here, so Destiny should’ve been home from work by then. I pressed the button once more, and again, received no answer.
I squeezed the phone as I lowered it to the seat, wondering if I should call her work number. But before I began dialing, my phone buzzed with a text message.
My Destiny:It’s rude to FaceTime someone without at least sending a text beforehand.
