Shit.
“Signing with us is an opportunity,” Troy says as he leans back in his booth. “Not a reward.”
Zeke appraises us from across the table. “Madrigal moves across the field like a wizard. And I told you about Onassis’s kick.”
Troy nods. He fixes his eyes on me, and again, there’s nothing there. He’s a stone wall as both men study me.
“They’re good guys,” Zeke continues, talking about me and Kevyn like we’re not there. “Except they both like to party too much. Madrigal took some foolish risks off the field, too. Onasiss has a good woman looking out for him, a trainer on our team, but he still manages to get in trouble.”
Fucking hell. Zeke must have overhead everyone joking about Stace being my work girlfriend and misunderstood.
My eyes dart across the table. I swear I see a flash of anger in Troy’s eyes.
Amazing. Now he thinks I’m a cheater, too.
“Clean sheet going forward,” Troy says, voice steady and cold. “Any offer with the agency is provisional on that.”
Zeke gives us each a serious look. “It’s important to the team that you learn to act like the athletes you’re meant to be.” He nods to Troy. “I’m opening a door for you because I believe in your talent, but it’s up to you to live up to it. If you let the agency down, you’re letting me down. Understand?”
The full meaning of this dinner finally hits me. Zeke’s not rewarding us with fat contracts from his agency.
He’s punishing us with Troy.
Frisk.
This is a command coming directly from our captain. Cut the shit and rise to our full potential, or our future on the team might not be so certain.
I look up to the massive bearded man across from me, my new judge and jury.
Knowing I have no other choice, I lock my eyes on Troy’s steel gaze. “Sign me, and I won’t let you down.”
CHAPTERFIVE
TROY
When I open my office door after a very late lunch, there’s a box with a royal-blue bow sitting on my desk. I walk over cautiously and check the card.
Zeke. Must be to celebrate renewing his contract. When I lift the lid, I see a box of fine cigars.
I hit the office phone. “Puck, get me Zeke on the line.”
I expect to leave him a message to say thanks, but I’m surprised when he picks up. “You got the cigars.”
“I did.”
“They’re hard to find.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I say as I admire a fat one, drawing it across the bottom of my nose for the cedar-and-pepper aroma.
“I know you didn’t have to take on two new clients. You already scored me an amazing contract this year.”
I’m glad he didn’t forget about that.
“You care about your athletes, Frisk. That’s why I’m sticking with you.”
“You care about your teammates,” I say. “That’s why the agency is sticking with you.”
He grunts, pleased. “Good.”
