Page 38 of Hard to Hold

My stomach rolls at his insinuation. Again.

“You didn’t put it together did you? Poor baby. I’d like to say I’m sorry, but I don’t feel bad about it at all. Karma is in fact a bitch, and we both know which side of those two options you seem to fall into.”

“You set me up.” My first words are a whisper as the magnitude of everything hits me. The men standing directly in front of the exit. Finn’s voice set to loud to ensure what he said was broadcast . . . just as I was trying to leave the conference room. Holy fuck. “You. Set. Me. Up.”

“See? I knew it would take a few seconds for you to understand . . . and now that you have, I’m sure you’ll be able to accept my insincerest apologies.”

“You fucking bastard. You low-lying piece of shit. You—”

Oh my God.

He has no idea. He’s so goddamn arrogant that he has no idea Cannon gave me the job, despite Finn’s advice. All because I didn’t go on stage tonight for the media circus. This is gold.

A slow smile crawls over my lips as I toy with what to say.

“Lennox? You still there? Please, continue. I’d love to hear what else it is you have to say.”

“Hey Finn?”

“Mmm?”

“What was it you said about karma?”

“That it was a bitch.”

“Remember that,” I say and pause for a dramatic beat. “Cannon gave you lip service.” I laugh. “Oh, did you not see me in the wings tonight, right behind the stage? Oops.” I pause. God, I wish I could see his face. “Enjoy your newbies with low salaries, Finn, while I absolutely enjoy dining and schmoozing one of the highest paid footballers out there. You know, your client, Rush.” His quick intake of air tells me I’ve made a direct hit. Perfect.

“You wouldn’t dare.” His threat is as empty as his voice is hollow.

“What did you say? All’s fair in love and representation?” I chuckle at his silence. “Finn? This is about the time you hope all the shit you’ve said about how I persuade clients my way isn’t true. Because if it is, you don’t stand a chance holding on to Rush.”

I end the call without warning, just as a litany of curses explode from the other end of the line.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

RUSH

3 Weeks ago

“CHRIST.” I SIT UP IN bed, legs hanging over the side as I scrub my face and startle at the caller’s name on my phone. Shit.

Rory.

He’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a little brother—the good and the bad parts of it.

Was moved back up to my team again—a reserve player.

Has finally been keeping his head down and nose clear . . . rather than let the drugs and partying win.

It’s split seconds I have to hold those thoughts. Split seconds where the history between us runs through my head to remind me of the bond formed that day. A bond that changed my life.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sorry to wake you, son,” Archibald Matheson says.

“Is it Rory?”

His laugh sounds like pure exhaustion. “When isn’t it?” But it tells me that it’s nothing urgent and I breathe a little easier.