Page 32 of Hard to Hold

I stare for a few seconds wondering if Rush is down there, but I don’t see him. And why would he be if he’s here to be the face of the MLS? Regardless, I take the time searching for him so I can piece my thoughts together.

“He’s the golden ticket, Lennox.”

“Nothing is ever the golden ticket, Cannon.” I turn to face him, my back now to the glass and my arms crossed over my chest.

“True.” He nods, but doesn’t continue until his eyes find mine. “But he’s here. The opportunity presented itself so I took it. You know that anyone else in my shoes would have done the same. Besides, fingers crossed, he’ll get a chance to get a feel for the league, to fall in love with America, and maybe stay.”

“Maybe,” I murmur while silently kissing that full bonus away. However, now I’m more determined than ever to steal Rush away from Finn for the sole purpose of telling him not to fall for any of this.

And isn’t that the predicament Cannon never figured into the equation? That I would think he’s crazy, trying to steal one of the best players of his era from the place where he shines the brightest?

“Rush is what this whole venture hinges on.”

“And when you introduce me to him, he’ll have no idea about your plan or why I’m really here?”

“Other than to make him happy by ‘making the league a better place for all footballers,’ no. Besides, I’m sure he can come to his own conclusion that we’d want him to stay here long-term.”

“That’s it?” I quirk an eyebrow and wonder if he sees how many million ways his plan can backfire.

Sleep with Rush and not only screw the integrity of this recruiting and job, but also prove every damn guy that was talking shit about me right.

Don’t sleep with Rush, recruit him, sign him, and give Finn exactly what he deserves.

Fate doesn’t give opportunities like this that you can take advantage of very often in life.

“Seems like I have my work cut out for me.”

“Shall we get started then?” Cannon asks and I nod. “Let’s bring him in and get the two of you acquainted. We have a lot of work to do.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

RUSH

BLOODY HELL.

Seriously?

This is my reward? Lennox as my babysitter while I’m in the States?

The thought has been on repeat in my mind since walking in here and seeing her. Since hearing Cannon explain that the two of us would be working side by side, despite the original solo arrangement I signed on for.

Shocked? Yes.

Complaining about it? Fuck no.

I definitely don’t mind sharing the spotlight with her, but I can’t say I understand why Cannon has a sports agent on board when promoting and being an agent have nothing to do with one another. If her role is being a player’s advocate, then why will she accompany me to dinners, functions, and matches?

He’ll hear no complaints from me though. Not a one. Because the introduction of her just made the next three months that much more manageable.

I say more manageable, but I’m still fucking pissed about even being here. About that hand fate fucking dealt.

“You’ll be heading to Los Angeles in three days. I’ll find you a house for rent—something—but we need you to lie low, Rush. Stay fit. Keep your nose clean. Smile pretty as you push the MLS, and then kick serious ass when you play the exhibition games. Word will get back to LFC about how good you look.”

“Los Angeles? The MLS? C’mon, Finn. Are you kidding me? That’s bollocks. That will be like going back to the Liverpool reserves. Fuck that. Surely you can see how stupid that—”

“You don’t get choices, Rush.”

Finn was right. I don’t get choices at this stage. And now, glancing at Lennox again, I take in her hair piled on top of her head in some fancy bun, the length of her neck, the blue of her eyes behind a set of black frames, and willingly accept my torture/punishment.