Mel looks at Kevyn. “To be clear, the trouble with your recreational life isn’t that you’re dancing at nightclubs and climbing mountains,” she tells him. “It’s how you do it. You need to negotiate with your team first. Check all the boxes, and with the right PR, you can cash out on a properly planned event that benefits everyone instead of damaging your career by opining on your love of mountain-climbing at a soccer press conference.”
I look at Orlando directly, finally forcing him to meet my eye. “And you,” I say, my voice cold. “You lack common sense.” He winces, but this is as close as I can get to telling him what I really think, so I don’t mince words. “You’re out partying with Madrigal, plus some. That vodka video? And you were caught skinny-dipping in the off-season. You’re lucky your team handled it the way they did. And on the field, you keep getting yellow cards with your bad impulse control. Unacceptable.”
I stand back up to full height. “Listen. Do whatever the hell you want to do with your personal lives. I don’t care how many frat-boy hijinks you need to pull to get your kicks or how many women you need to flirt with at the clubs. But it’s time to learn to be discreet, smart. And most importantly, nothing can detract from your game.Nothing.”
“That’s right,” Mel agrees. “Like it or not, you’re with the best now, boys. Time to start acting like it.”
“We’ll have follow-up appointments. The agency will reach out to schedule. But that’s all for now.” I nod curtly to indicate the meeting is over. Both of the men stand to leave, but Orlando surprises me.
He steps forward and offers his hand. “Thank you, Frisk,” he says, voice clear and confident.
I grit my teeth, not wanting to accept even this small display of manners and integrity.
And there’s a glint in his eye, something mischievous that pisses me off, bringing back all the irrational emotions.
I can’t say what I want to say. And the man is now my client, same as any other. I work for him.
Biting back frustration, I take his hand and squeeze hard. He meets my locked eyes, pumps once, and pulls away.
“And for what it’s worth,” he continues, “I wanted to clarify something. Zeke mentioned my girlfriend, and considering you’re--”
Anger rushes through me, and I cut him off promptly before he says something that exposes us. “We’re done today,” I bark out. When I catch my tone, I steady my voice. “I’ve got a meeting,” I say clearly, then drop down to a gravelly grumble. “If you need to discuss anything professional, see my assistant on the way out. Otherwise, that’s all.”
No way I am going to stand here and listen to his bullshit any more than I already have to.
“Oh,” Orlando says. He glances at Kevyn, and his teammate gives him a look, clearly telling him to drop it.
Instead of giving him a chance to push the topic, I turn my back to them and rummage through the papers on the desk. I keep my eyes down, icing them out until the door clicks shut.
I stand in my silent office, my heart pounding.
Flustered, frustrated, and rock hard.
CHAPTERSIX
ORLANDO
“What do you think?” I ask Stace as she flips through the training plan that the agency has prepared for me. The Force just finished a long day of drills at the stadium, and Stace and I are sitting in some shade behind the net. “Looks good?”
She nods as she scans through the pages. “It’s similar to the direction I wanted to take you last year. Less strength training, more precision work.” She looks up to me. “And yeah. This is going to kick your ass.”
I lie back on the grass. “It’s already kicking my ass. I’ve been early to every practice, every training, giving it my 110 percent. I met with the agency’s nutritionist, took notes, and I haven’t cheated on the meal plan she gave me once. Yesterday, I turned down a Starburst! Like a single fucking Starburst. I’m doing everything Troy wants of me, and he damn well better appreciate it.”
Stace laughs, surprised by the sudden shift toward Troy. “Okay.”
“Sorry,” I mumble.
I realize how intensely I said all that. Rubbing my hand over my face, I try to shake off the surge of emotions.
After our tense, professional encounter at his office, two things were clear. One is that the man is hot as hell. He’s powerful and gruff, and seeing him in his element reignited my interest in him.
The other is that Troy Frisk wants nothing at all to do with me.
That part sucks.
Troy has the worst possible impression of me right now, and if I’m going to get anywhere with him, I’m going to need to fix that.
But his stern words are stuck in my head, too. He sees my potential and believes in me as an athlete, and if you’re going to take anyone’s opinion on that topic seriously, Troy would be at the top of the list.
