Wasengaged?
Since that whole shite about me being a match-fixing disgrace who’d sold his soul to the bookies hit the fan, I’ve not read a single headline, tweet, or tabloid. Not wasting my time on lies. And I’m not talking to anyone in Glasgow anymore. So, if Charlie’s been through something, I’ve missed it.
She exhales. ‘Callum shagged a TV presenter. And I—’ she lifts a shoulder like it’s nothing, ‘—was forced to write the breakup statement for my own relationship. And yeah, maybe I went a bit overboard. My father wasn’t thrilled. Bad PR, he said. Reflects poorly on his agency, he said. I should’ve taken better care of Callum, he said. “Fuck you,” I said. And then I left.’
She gestures around the office. ‘I started my own small agency. I run this place. I make the calls. And that includes you.’ Her voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it now. A quiet, blistering fire.
She leans back again, as if this were just another meeting, as if my whole fucking life weren’t in her grip.
I death-stare her, blood pumping hot. ‘I request a new agent.’
‘You think this is some make-a-wish scheme? When I acquired Henderson, I took on all their contracts. Most of the stars jumped ship before it sank – at least the ones who weren’t too busy wallowing. I’m left with a handful of clients, and you’re the biggest name. A damaged asset, but still valuable if managed correctly.’
An asset. Not a person, not a player. An item on her balance sheet. To be managed correctly.
Fuck you.
The room suddenly feels too small. Too hot. ‘And if I refuse? I’ll buy myself out.’
‘With what? The buyout clause is three times your annual pay. So, unless you’ve got a spare million lying around – and after what happened, I highly doubt that – you’re stuck with me.’
I let out a frustrated growl.
She slides the folder across the desk. ‘The numbers are on page three. Feel free to look if you don’t believe me.’
I snatch it up, flipping pages until I see the figure. Christ. Money I don’t have. Not after the deal with the Stirling Rebels came in lower than I’d hoped. Not after the gambling rumours tanked my sponsorships. And not after racking up six-figure debts. Fuck.
‘This is extortion,’ I spit out.
She throws her head back and laughs like this is the funniest thing she’s ever heard. Then she stands and walks around her desk until she’s next to me.
‘This is business, not extortion. I control your deals, your public image. And I can do something with it, if you let me.’
For half a second, my muscles clench. Tight. Too tight. Because fuck her. Fuck her smug little doll face. Fuck that fucking smirk.
But I don’t move. I won’t give her the satisfaction.
‘To be fair, Brodie, I didn’t know they had your contract. It was a bulk acquisition in a fast-tracked deal. And Henderson’s admin was a bin fire. You were…an unexpected gift in the package.’
My heart thunders so loudly I can barely hear over it. ‘You and Callum destroyed my career.’
Something glints in her eyes. Anger? Guilt? I can’t fucking tell. ‘You were his publicist. You fed those gambling stories to the press.’
‘I did no such thing.’ Ice coats every syllable. ‘You did plenty of damage all by yourself. Those poker debts weren’t imaginary, were they?’
My fist hits her desk so hard pens jump. ‘Ineverbet on rugby. Never.’
‘No, you just racked up enough debt that people started to wonder what else youmightbe willing to do for cash.’ Her expression doesn’t budge. ‘And now you’re here. And I’m responsible for cleaning up the mess you made.’
‘I refuse to work with you. I can find another agency.’
She steps in, right up against the edge of my space, and the expensive scent of her seeps into my lungs like a fucking threat.
‘Go ahead, Brodie. Walk out that door. No one is going to take you on, believe me.’ A slow, satisfied smile. ‘Or…’ she drags out the word, toying with me, ‘you could let me fix what’s left of your career.’
I want to scream. I want to flip her fancy desk. I want to walk out and never look back, but I can’t. She knows it. I know it.
I’m trapped.
