Page 46 of Hard to Hold

“Lennox. You know I don’t expect—”

“It’s Rush McKenzie.” I know if I hadn’t cut him off, that name alone would have right there.

“Your partner in the MLS assignment?”

“Partner is a loose term,” I say and then go on to explain Cannon’s expectations by bringing me on board. When I finish, silence weighs on the line as a car zips past me. “Dad?”

“Do you think you’re up for the task? I mean, he’s a huge name in the middle of an even larger scandal. Often times, those types of clients come with as big of rewards as the consequences.”

He doesn’t even know the half of it.

I shift my feet and feel the delicious soreness from last night when I do, and then internally cringe at the details I’m omitting from my father.

“I understand.”

“There’s no room for error with him. He’s sitting center stage with the sports world watching. He broke the one code athletes live by—don’t screw with a teammate.”

“But I don’t think he did,” I say out loud for the first time.

“You’ve known him a few days and have come to that conclusion, huh?”

“Yes,” I assert. “I think he’s all persona. He may be a rebel, but something tells me he’s smart enough not to fuck with a winning team dynamic.”

“You know that’s not a popular opinion, right?”

“Since when do I care about popular opinion?”

“It’s a touchy situation for an agent. One more wrong move from him, and while he might survive the fallout, everything and everyone around him will be blamed for it.”

“By the way you’re trying to talk me out of it, I’m beginning to feel like you don’t think I can handle it.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But he’s Finn’s. Isn’t that the goal here?”

“The goal is to build upon what we already have at KSM. To take the pieces he’s chipped away at with his dirty tactics and restore.”

“In other words, steal.” I laugh.

“I know you can’t see it, but I’m shaking my head right now.”

“I figured.”

“There’s something else, isn’t there? Did something happen at the conference?”

Tears fill my eyes, and I hate every shred of degradation I feel, and how it surfaces from the undisguised compassion in his voice.

“No.” Yes. I’m silent for a moment, grateful he doesn’t press. But if he did, what would I tell him? That I need to do this for me? That I need to know my skill sets include more strength of character and resilience than short-lived beauty? Contrary to what pageants ever sold to the contender. To me.

And don’t start me on the other accusations, especially after I slept with Rush.

“No, Lenn? That’s it? Because that no sounded an awful lot like there’s more to the story.”

“I need to do this, okay? The change of scenery. The challenge. Who knows what I’ll find?”

I can almost see his nod as he takes in my argument. “Who knows?”

“Thanks for calling.”