I stared at her and wondered how things had gotten so crazy. “But I do have a girlfriend and she’s moving in with me. I’m not going out with Brittany and—”
“Oh my God!” Gia gasped, throwing up her hands in disgust. “You players are like little boys. We talked about this your very first day. Do you remember meeting with me and Joe DeLuce? You remember him. He’s the team owner.”
“Of course I remember—”
“And what did we talk about? I’ll tell you. Your image. You were going to be the ‘aw-shucks’ Nebraska boy, growing up on a farm and all, who got here from hard work, talent, and clean living.”
“Yes, and a girlfriend doesn’t change—”
“Of course not!” She huffed. “Since the girlfriend isBrittany!”
I folded my arms across my chest. I was willing to do about anything for this team. Playing in the majors was my dream from my earliest memories, and I was not about to screw up this opportunity. But no way would I let them control my life.
“I am not dating Brittany,” I said flatly.
Gia mimicked my stance, her arms folded across her ample chest. “Remember how Joe said that baseball was about selling tickets.”
“Yes, and the tickets sell if we win.”
“They sell even better when the image is right. When there’s a story the public likes. Then they’ll come if you win or lose.”
I winced. I remembered this conversation with Joe. I remembered thinking then that it was a crock of bull, but Joe obviously believed it. And Gia had the ticket sales to prove her point. The fans did like to build stories around their favorites. “Fine, but I’m not—”
Gia cut me off. “Brittany has built a huge wave of publicity on your date.”
“I didn’t know anything about a date!”
“Doesn’t matter. She’s built it, and you will go.”
I was about to argue when Nico abruptly pushed his phone at me. “It’s your agent,” he said, his voice loud enough to silence anything I was about to say.
“What? Why would Marc be calling on your phone?”
“Because I called him,” Nico said as he pressed the phone to my ear. I had no choice but to grab it from him.
“Marc—”
“Listen, dude, Nico got me up to speed on the situation.” Marc’s California slang bothered me, mostly because he seemed to think that’s the way I spoke. But he was one of the best agents in the business and I’d learned to trust him. Especially when he got me my spectacular deal with the Bobcats.
“There is no situation—”
“Of course not. But you know I’m on your side, right? You know I’ve been around the block a few times and I’ve got the long view here. You want a career at the Bobcats, right?”
“You know I do.”
“Right. That means you’ve got to play ball with them.”
“I am playing ball,” I retorted. “Really well.”
“And I was cheering you on every second. Loved what you did in Chicago, dude.”
“So, dude—”
“But listen,” he cut me off. “I was talking about the publicity thing. We’re building a career image here and you’re the one who wanted to do the clean-cut kid from Nebraska.”
“That was your idea.”
“Pretty sure it was yours, but either way, you’re stuck with it now.”
