“I haven’t decided anything; the market has. Mr. Moreau’s time as well as his face are worth more. The sum is fixed.”
“No! I’d like to speak to your superior.”
“Iamthe superior, Mr. Rogers,” she replied coolly, sitting up straighter. “And you know what? My client isn’t so keen on watch advertisements anyway, so maybe we should just drop the deal and…”
“No! No, no,” he replied hastily. “We…” He trailed off, and she could practically hear his teeth grinding. “Fine! We’ll pay that sum. My assistant will contact your assistant.”
“Great. Have a nice day,” she said politely and hung up.
Fox chuckled softly beside her. “Moreau’s face is worth more?”
“Absolutely. I know he hates the media hype, but he’s in greater demand than ever. Everyone loves him.”
Fox laughed louder. “God, he’ll hate that more than the media hype. He probably preferred his reputation as akiller.”
Hazel grinned. Yes, Fox was right. But before she could tell him that, her phone rang again. Oh, crap. She’d been expecting the call, but really wasn’t keen on taking it. But he was her client, so…
“Do I have to find another agent, Hazel?” Jason Devreaux greeted her angrily. “One who’s not on Gareth Clark’s hit list? Because why the hell am I not on a plane to L.A. yet?”
“Nothing’s standing in the way of your trade…”
“Oh yes, there is! Your hate-fest with fucking Clark is!” he snapped. “You know, they warned me:don’t switch to Barrow if you want to go to LA. Clark hates her like wrinkles in his suit trousers. But you convinced me that you were the best…”
“I am the best!” she replied angrily. “And we have the upper hand; they want you.”
“Of course they want me! They can’t rely on old timers Fox and West as centers, and Alvarez is still in children’s ice hockey skates!”
“I heard that,” Fox growled.
Hazel ignored him and took a deep breath. “How are you, Jason?” she asked softly. “Are you sleeping better?”
“Hazel…”
“Are you?”
“No!” he replied irritably.
“Are you doing the meditation exercises I showed you?” she whispered sympathetically.
“No!”
“Jason, come on. It's time to helpyourself.”
He took a shuddering breath. “I want to, but…God, I have to get out of here, okay? The whole place…Canada, the people…I just have to get out.”
“I know. And I’ll make sure it happens. I promise. The sale is merely a formality. Do your exercises, otherwise you’re no good to anyone.”
“Okay. Yeah, yeah. You’re right. But don’t screw it up. I need this.”
He hung up.
With a sigh, she took the phone away from her ear. Shit. This thing with Gareth was a growing problem. She’d sworn to herself that she’d never let him get in her way again!
If word got out that she and Gareth Clark didn’t get along, and no one became her client because they wanted a chance with the Hawks… Shit.
“You’re impressive, you realize that, right?” Fox interrupted her thoughts.
She laughed. “You really shouldn’t be driving drunk, Austin.”
