Page 16 of Hard to Love

I turn to face Carson and his expectant eyes. “I will at some point. When I reach your level of success.” I shrug, knowing I have but will always place him on a pedestal regardless. “Until then, I work.”

His sigh is expected as we’ve had this conversation more than once. “What you need is someone to experience things with. Someone to twist your arm every once in a while, and get you out from behind your phone and laptop.”

I nod out of respect and then smile. “Is this a matchmaking ad? Since when did you go to work for them?”

“Matchmaking is the last thing I’ll ever do.” He sighs. “This is more like life advice from someone who learned the hard way.”

“Noted.”

“So you say time and again and yet you never seem to actually do it.” His sigh fills the space. “Look, I know you think relationships are bullshit and yada yada, but when you find someone who understands you, it makes a world of difference.”

“Dually noted,” I mutter.

“You’re not getting any younger.”

“And now I definitely know you’ve hung up your agent shoes and now work in matchmaking.” I shake my head, wondering when early thirties became old to him. “So is that why I’m here? To pick up all your clients that you’re leaving behind as you head into this new career?”

“See? Case in point. I haven’t seen you for a year and you want to jump right into business instead of catching up.”

“You’re deferring, Carson.”

“Damn right, I am,” he says and crosses his arms over his chest before smiling. “Wasn’t your motto always business first, pleasure later?”

His laugh is deep and rich. “I taught you well, Finn. I taught you well.”

“So? Let’s do business first and then we’ll catch up after if you’re free.” And maybe I’ll be able to smooth over any hurt feelings when I tell him I can’t babysit Stevie Lancaster.

“That we can do.” But his pause after he speaks has me narrowing my eyes as he takes a few steps over to where he perches himself on the arm of the sofa and stares at me. “I don’t know how else to say it other than I need your help.”

Shit. That pause should have warned me he was going to come out swinging.

And he just did. When Carson Vega speaks, he means what he says, so his unabashed honesty and the serious look in his eyes, already have guilt swimming through me.

My chuckle isn’t exactly full of humor. “Help with Stevie Lancaster, I presume?”

He nods, a sudden somberness to his expression now. “You ever met her?”

“Not that I recall, but you know how our life is.” Lots of handshakes, lots of faces before you for only seconds at a time before you move on. “But no, I don’t think I have.”

“You’d know if you had,” he says with a shake of his head. “The woman is a tornado, an earthquake, and a hurricane all mixed into one. And that was my description before her dad passed away. Now? Jesus. She—”

“Her dad?” I ask. The whole sports world knows her father passed away, but I’m looking for more information than I can get from the canned stories I’d see on SportsCenter before a tournament final.

“Liam Lancaster. Great guy. Single dad. Her mom left when she was young and so he basically devoted his life to his little girl,” he says while I partition off the part of me who understands being abandoned all too well. I don’t want to sympathize with a woman I don’t have time to deal with. “He was a tennis instructor at some country club and one thing led to another and he turned his talents into molding her into one of the best there’s ever been.”

“Okay . . .” So what does that have to do with me?

“He was her coach, her agent, her keeper in all aspects. He didn’t trust anyone with the most important thing in his life except himself.”

“That kind of devotion can be a dangerous thing.”

Carson nods. “Exactly. He contacted me years ago. We’d met by happenstance a few times over the years, but this particular time he asked for an official meeting with me. I wasn’t sure what to expect really but then I was flabbergasted by his request. He asked if I would agree to watch out, manage, whatever you want to call it, Stevie if something were to ever happen to him.” He looks down at his hands and shakes his head ever so subtly. “It was before she was of age, but the documents he had drawn up and that I signed, communicated that I would be her agent and representation if something were to happen to him or he became incapacitated.”

“But she’s of age now. She’s more than able and capable to fire and hire who she wants as a manager or as representation.”

He holds his finger up for me to be patient. “The next time I heard from him was earlier this year. He called me to let me know he was dying from pancreatic cancer. I was shocked and saddened because he was so young, but he made me promise that I wouldn’t say a word of it to anyone—especially Stevie. He thought it was best she didn’t know. That she loved him as he was instead of looking at him as sick and with a finite amount of time. I told him it was the wrong decision, but he was steadfast in it. Fast forward to his earlier-than-expected passing and not only was Stevie blindsided but she’s livid with me because I knew her father was dying and didn’t tell her.”

“Christ.” I sigh the word out, feeling for Stevie on a human level but more than confused as to why Carson is giving me this long buildup before he gets to the point. He’s not a long-winded man unless the last year has changed something. “I feel for her, Car, for the situation, but you know as well as I do that our responsibility as an agent is to suggest and guide and negotiate. If she’s that pissed off at you that she’s acting out, then let her go as a client and be done with her.”