She just hums, completely unconvinced.
“So,” I say, casually. “What’s Ryan’s deal?”
Jen blinks. “You mean Butters?”
“Ryan,” I shoot back. “I’m not calling him that.”
“What do you want to know?” she smirks. “He’s pretty, right?”
“No,” I huff. “I mean, yes, he is, but what I mean—”
She bursts out laughing, cutting me off. “You look a little flustered there, Spence. Does someone have a crush?”
I level her with a flat stare. “You know I don’t get those.”
“Mmhmm.”
“What I wanted to know,” I continue, ignoring her tone, “is does he have representation?”
Jen tilts her head. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” I say, gesturing with my coffee. “He’s got an agent, right? Do they have in-house counsel?”
“Oh,” Jen says, nodding. “Yes. He has an agent and they typically have in-house for endorsement contracts and matters related to their agency agreement. Some athletes keep outside counsel for other things.”
She narrows her eyes. “Why the sudden interest?”
I shrug. “Probably nothing. He texted me this morning.”
Jen leans forward immediately. “Reaaally?”
I roll my eyes. “Shut up. He was asking about legal advice. At least, Ithinkhe was.”
“Say more,” she prods, straightening in her seat. “Youthinkhe was? How are you not sure? That would be a huge account, Spence.”
I take a slow sip of my coffee. “Well,” I tell her, “he said he got my number from Anthony because he needed legal advice.”
Jen nods eagerly.
“When I asked him what he needed,” I continue, “he responded with‘Will you work out with me?’”
Jen stares.
I shrug. “I told him no.”
She blinks.
“He retorted with a stupid pun assquisitions. I told him to go away. So yeah. Whatever that was.”
Jen bursts out laughing.
“That sounds exactly on brand for Butters.”
I glare.
“You should hit the gym with him,” she says. “It’s no different than a round of golf to land a client—” She stops mid-sentence. “Hold the phone.”
“What?”
