Page 32 of Hard to Handle

“Thanks for the analysis, but you’re wrong. That’s all we were.” Were my feelings for him really that transparent?

“That came out wrong. What I mean was I know he hurt you.”

“I’ve been hurt a lot. It’s not a big deal.”

“Easy to say, hard to do,” she murmurs.

“Your point?” I ask, ready for the conversation to be over.

“If you sleep with him, this whole thing is over.” I should be stunned by her direct nature, but I’m not. Subtlety is not Lennox’s strong suit. Silence is my response. “Not to be the party pooper . . . or should I say pretty kitty pooper, but if you sleep with him—”

“No worries there.”

“—then our other clients will think he’s getting preferential treatment—”

“Are you actually lecturing me?” I ask through a laugh. “After you slept with Hardy and that entire debacle? Seriously?”

“It’s not the same. This time it matters.”

She pauses as the arena plays a song that the crowd chants along to and I welcome the distraction.

“And who exactly are you busy trying to woo over to Kincade?”

Her pause has me leaning over as if I can hear the words she’s not saying . . . and I wait.

“I don’t exactly know yet.”

“What do you mean you don’t know yet?”

“I mean, Dad said we need to recruit one at a time so it looks more subtle than a hostile takeover, or some weird father analogy like that.”

I stare at the game unfolding before me—at the loss the Jacks are being handed, no thanks to Hunter. “So I’m the only one who’s—”

“Teacher’s pet always gets to have fun first,” she says in a singsong voice. She called to gloat . . . or to make sure I’m not fucking up things for her because let’s be honest, when’s the last time she thought about anyone or anything but herself?

If KSM were to fail as a business, how would my sister survive without all the fancy social functions that go hand in hand with being a sports agent? God forbid, it would thrust her out of the limelight she thrives on.

I’m far from naïve and know her concern is genuine but skewed for selfish reasons.

But what the hell is my dad pulling here? While he has some logic to avoid an all-out war with Sanderson, why was it so pertinent that I pick up my life on the fly and do this?

“I’ve got to go,” I murmur.

“No. Wait!”

“What?” I snap. “What more can you possibly have to say that’s not duplicitous in its meaning?”

“Look, all of that came out wrong. All of it.”

“I don’t care anymore, Len. I’ve got a game to watch and a client to schmooze.”

“Hear me out.” It’s the tone in her voice and the fact that I’ve been like their mom that prevents me from hanging up.

“You’ve got two minutes.”

“I know you like him, Dekk. And I know how you get when someone gets too close to you,” she says. I’m still not following her. “Because of Mom, because of the hurt we experienced, it’s easier to push someone away when you love them than to see where it leads.”

“There is no talk of love here.” I snort at her ludicrousness.