by Beth Ehemann
Vinnie nodded slowly, taking in everything I’d just said.
“In terms of the money aspect,” I continued while I was on a roll, “we already went over this on the phone, and my assistant e-mailed you a copy of our agency agreement before you arrived, so there should be no surprises. My fee is the standard three percent of any team contract I get you and twelve percent of any endorsement deals I negotiate on your behalf.”
“That seems fair,” he responded as a big cheesy grin spread across his face. “Let’s do it, man. I’m ready!” He clapped his hands together loudly.
I stood up and reached my hand across to him again. “Mr. Sotelo, you just signed with the best agency in the market.”
The smile hung on his face as he nodded.
“I’m gonna call Ellie in here with the contract, and we’ll go over a few more things before you sign, and then we’re good to go.” I patted his shoulder as I walked past, relieved that not only had I covered my ass, but I was coming out of the meeting with a new client.
An hour later, I walked Vinnie to the elevator, said good-bye to my newest star athlete, and let my shoulders relax for the first time since I’d walked out of that same elevator a couple of hours earlier.
Once the elevator doors closed, Ellie sat back in her chair and shook her head incredulously. “How did you pull that off?”
“I don’t really know.” I ran my hands through my hair and let out a heavy sigh. “I pretended to be on the phone with another client’s people to intimidate him and then basically told him he was signing with me.”
“Considering how not happy he was when he got here and found out you weren’t in yet, very well done,” she congratulated, turning her attention toward her computer. “You’ve got two more meetings this afternoon and two contracts to look over.”
Tension built in my chest, bringing along with it the dull pain I’d been feeling for months, every time I felt stressed about work. “Got it. Thanks, El.” I winked at her and spun on my heel, heading back to my office to tackle what the day had for me.
As I pushed my office door shut behind me, I felt someone force it back open gently.
“Sorry.” Ellie smiled at me. “But can I grab my phone back?”
“Oh! Yeah. Sorry.” I walked over, snagged her phone off my desk, and handed it to her.
Just as I set it in her hand, “Single Ladies” by Beyoncé rang out loudly and her phone lit up.
We both stared down at the glowing phone, and she giggled. “Wow. That would have been awkward if it would’ve rung while Vinnie was here, huh?” Her laugh grew louder as she walked across my office. Just before she pulled the door shut behind her, she called out, “By the way, you owe me a cinnamon roll.”
Another hour passed and I looked around my desk, feeling like I was forgetting something. Suddenly I remembered that my cell phone was still down in my car. I was ready for a break anyway, so I slipped out to grab it, taking my time on the way back up. As I leaned against the wall of the elevator, I glanced down at the screen.
Five missed calls.
Three text messages.
Thirty-seven new e-mails.
Three of the missed calls were from Ellie. The other two, and all three texts, were from Brody Murphy, my best friend since college and star goalie of the Minnesota Wild. Brody was actually the reason I’d decided to go into sports management in the first place.
It was pledge week, or hell week as some called it, and I was a skinny, virgin freshman, weighing 160 pounds on a good day. Like most freshmen, I wanted to make new friends and find hot girls, so I did what every freshman did . . . put on half a bottle of cologne and headed straight to fraternity row. The first week was typically spent going from house to house, meeting as many guys, and girls, as you could while trying to decide which frat to pledge your college life away to.
The first night, the first house I walked into, I knew I had to do the cool thing and get a beer as fast as I could. I grabbed a red Solo cup from the table and stood in line for the keg. Another guy walked up as it was my turn for beer. Just before I was about to hold my cup under the silver faucet-looking thing, I pulled my cup back and told him to go ahead.
“No, that’s okay, you go,” he insisted, taking a small step back.
“No, really. It’s fine.”
He looked around to see if anyone was within earshot, then leaned in close. “First of all, I don’t know how to work this fucking thing, and second, I hate beer.”
I laughed and felt relieved. “I don’t know how to work it, either.”
We put our cups back and decided to go to check out the next house together, and the house after that. By the end of the week, we’d visited every single house together and come to the same decision: frats were stupid and we had no interest. As Brody and I became better friends, he shared his dream of playing in the NHL with me, and I told him that my mom was making me major in accounting like my father. I was an uptight, nervous kid, and Brody was the exact opposite, a carefree guy who constantly pushed me out of my comfort zone while nearly getting me arrested at least half a dozen times. By our junior year we shared an apartment, a dog, and a car . . . and to my mother’s disappointment, I’d changed my major to sports management.
Nearly fifteen years later, even though our chaotic lives kept us from talking as often as we would like, we were still best friends.
I got back to my office, and no sooner had I sat down than my phone buzzed in my pocket. Swiping at the picture of Logan and Becca on the screen, I opened my text messages. Another one from Brody . . .
B: Yo. What’s new?
B: Hey. I’m talking to you.
B: Stop ignoring me, ass breath.
B: Seriously. Take your dick out of your hand and answer a text, would ya?
I laughed to myself and dialed his number, figuring that way I could keep working while we talked. His phone rang two times before I heard that familiar voice answer. “Jesus, finally. What took you so long?”
“Sorry,” I said sarcastically. “Some of us have to work for a living. We don’t all get to lay around on the couch all summer watching Seinfeld reruns.”
“Hey! Get it right. I don’t watch Seinfeld,” he defended. “On the other hand, I have watched three episodes of Bubble Guppies already this morning.”
“Sounds thrilling,” I teased drily.
“Anyway, the reason I called your ass over and over . . . I’m heading into the city for a workout this afternoon, and I haven’t seen your ugly face in a while. Take a break and meet me at The Penalty Box for lunch.”
My mouth watered at his mention of The Penalty Box, the pub that Brody and Viper, our other friend, owned together.
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on my palm. “I wish I could, man, but I’m completely swamped here.”
“Come on! Don’t be such a pussy. We both know you have an hour to spare.” His voice trailed off, sounding like he turned away from the phone. “Grace, put that down. No hitting your sister unless she really deserves it.”
“Great parenting, Murphy.”
“Hey, these girls can be vicious. Sometimes they do deserve it. Now, get your ass up and meet me for lunch.”
“Seriously . . . I can’t,” I argued back. “You’re the one with time to spare. Why don’t you come here instead? You can talk while I work.”
“Time to spare?” He chuckled. “I have four daughters and you think I have time to spare? Do you know how exhausting that is? I hide in the bathroom for an hour sometimes just so I can hear myself think.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“And,” he continued without skipping a beat, “because of all my fake bathroom time, Kacie’s convinced there’s something wrong with me, so she made me an appointment with a gastroenterologist.”
By that point my shoulders were shaking from laughing, and I couldn’t respond.
“And the worst part . . . I’m actually going to the appointment!”
I pulled myself together j
ust enough to talk for a second. “Wait. You’re going? Why?”
“Because I’m scared to death of my wife. If I tell her that I’m totally fine and I just sit in there and play poker on my phone for an hour, she’ll kill me. It’s just easier to go to the doctor.”
“Really?” I teased in between more laughing. “Who’s the pussy now?”
CHAPTER 3
Andy
A little while later I was staring at my computer screen, straining my eyes to read the fine print of a small deal for a baby-faced eighteen-year-old football player when my office door flew open and Brody came bounding through it.
“What’s up, Shaw?” he greeted with a big grin on his face. He walked over and set a brown paper bag on my desk, and within seconds I knew exactly what was in it. The smell of greasy charbroiled burgers and grilled onions floated through the air and straight into my nostrils, making my stomach growl loudly.
“You’re amazing. I take back everything bad I ever said to you.” I stood up and opened the bag, closing my eyes and taking a big whiff as the smell got stronger.
Brody froze and raised his eyebrows. “Everything?”
I tossed a french fry into my mouth and shook my head quickly. “Never mind. I take back my offer to take back. I’ve meant every bad thing I’ve said to you and about you.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “There’s the Andy I know and love.”
We both sat down at the desk with our Styrofoam containers, and before he’d even opened his, I started shoveling food into my mouth faster than should have been humanly possible.
Brody watched in horror, his eyes darting back and forth from my food to my face. “What the hell are you doing? Have you not eaten in the last three months? My God.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled through a mouthful of cheeseburger. I grabbed a napkin from the bag and wiped my mouth. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I don’t have any extra time. I have to get back to work.”
He took a quick drink of his lemonade. “Why are you so busy? Lots of recruiting or what?”
I shrugged. “Definitely recruiting, but also since I signed a few bigger deals, athletes from all over the country started calling and inquiring about representation.”
He leaned back in his chair and puffed his chest out proudly. “Sorry I’m so damn amazing.”
I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t just your contract, you arrogant bastard. It was a combination of yours, Viper’s, and a few others. Every time we inked one of those deals, the phone rang off the hook for a solid week.”
“That’s a good thing, though, right?” he asked cautiously.
“It is, but—” I paused and took a deep breath. From the moment I’d decided to go into sports management, this was exactly where I’d wanted to be: in the driver’s seat of a successful firm, making huge deals with the nation’s top athletes and the top college prospects . . . I just didn’t anticipate juggling all that while being a single father. “It’s been hard on the kids. I’m not home a lot.”
Brody’s face softened as he pressed his lips together and nodded his head slowly. “I get it. You still have Gloria, right?”
“Yes, thank God. We’d be lost without her. But it’s just not the same thing as having your dad around, ya know?”
He nodded again.
“It’s bad enough that their mother doesn’t care enough to be involved in their lives, but now I’m never there, either. Something’s gotta give.” I set my burger back in the container and pushed it away from me, no longer hungry.
“What if you hired more people here?” Brody asked nonchalantly as he leaned forward and picked at my fries.
“More people?”
I already had Ellie, the best damn assistant around, and Ethan, my contract lawyer who double- and triple-checked everything for me.
“Yeah, like a partner. Someone to do some of the recruiting and meet with the smaller-name athletes. That way you can concentrate on the stars, like myself, and spend a little more time at home with your kids.”
“Hm . . .” I thought about it for a second. “That’s not a totally horrible idea.”
“Hell no it’s not. I’m a genius,” he gloated, winking at me.
“I have an extra office on the other side of Ellie’s desk that we’re just using as storage right now, but I could move that crap somewhere else,” I thought out loud as I rocked back and forth in my chair, contemplating the details of Brody’s scenario.
“Think about it . . . you pay whoever it is a base salary, but they get to keep a percentage for whatever deals they make, that way they’re more inclined to work their asses off for you.” Brody jumped up from his seat with his hands high up in the air. “Holy shit, this really is a damn good idea. Maybe I should quit hockey and go into business instead.”
I picked up a fry and threw it at him. “Calm down there, Wonder Boy. You had one good idea. Let’s not go talking nonsense about quitting hockey, especially when you’re in your agent’s office. You say that too loud and every damn newspaper and magazine in the country is going to be calling me for a comment. I definitely don’t have time for that.”
He sat back down. “It really is something to think about, though.”
“It is,” I agreed, ready to change the subject before he started calling other agents and setting up meetings for me. “So what about you guys? What’s going on in the Murphy household? Anything exciting?”
“Actually, no.” He linked his fingers behind his head and relaxed into his seat. “We’re ready to enjoy a nice, quiet summer by the lake, make s’mores and take a few naps. That’s about it.”
“Sounds like a great summer.” I sighed, a little jealous of Brody’s downtime.
“You should take some time off and bring the kids up to the lake for the weekend.” Brody leaned forward with an excited twinkle in his eye. I’d seen that same twinkle many times, and it usually meant I was going to have to prepare a statement. “We can cook out, swim, relax, set off some illegal fireworks . . . it would be fun.”
“That does sound fun.” I tilted my head to the side, considering his offer. “I need to make my way up there anyway and check out this ridiculous castle I keep hearing about. Did you seriously put plumbing and electrical in a playhouse for your daughters?”
“Hell yeah, I did. Best decision I ever made, too. I had no idea when I did it that we’d have two more girls.”
“So when’s baby number five coming, anyway?”
Brody’s eyes bulged, and he puffed his cheeks out. “Dude . . . wow. I teased her that we were gonna keep going until I got a son, but man, four girls is tough!”
“Just wait till they’re all teenagers. That hour you have in the bathroom now will seem like a distant dream when you find yourself pissing in that pretty, pretty castle of yours because they’ve hogged all the bathrooms.” I threw my head back and let out a loud laugh.
Brody sat with me for a bit longer and we chatted. Well, I worked and he chatted, mostly about his amazing idea and what a genius he was, but the company was nice. Other than talking to Ethan and Ellie about work-related stuff, I spent a lot of time holed up in my office by myself.
Thankfully, that afternoon flew right by. I had two more meetings that were productive but quick. Ellie had to cut out early for a family emergency, but Ethan and I hammered out a lot of work that’d piled up on both of our desks. He brought me three more contracts that needed my signature, and just as I’d finished signing the last one, my cell phone vibrated and Gloria’s face popped up on my text screen.
G: Where are you?
Hey! I’m still at work, just about done. Where are you?
G: Logan’s baseball game.
Shit!
My stomach plummeted as I looked up at the corner of my screen for the time.
Six fifty-one.
“Oh my God,” I said out loud as I pinched my eyes shut tight, instantly mad at myself. How the hell could I forget about Logan’s game? A game that was so important to him that he’d started thi
nking about it at seven o’clock this morning, yet I couldn’t even remember it for a few hours. I felt like the worst father ever.
“Everything okay?” Ethan asked, sticking his head in my office as he passed by.
“No,” I responded without looking up at him. “I forgot about Logan’s baseball game. He really wanted me to be there and I just forgot.”
“Ouch.”
My phone vibrated again.
G: He’s pitching well, but he’s sad. I can see it on his face.
I can’t believe I forgot. I’m closing up and leaving right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.
“I gotta go,” I said to Ethan as I handed him the contracts back and shut my computer off.
He waved his hand at me. “Go. Go. I’ll close and lock everything up here.”
“Thanks.” I gave him a tight smile as I rushed past him and jogged to the elevator.
When I pulled up to the ball field, thankfully, the game was still going, but I noticed right away that Logan’s team was in the field, and he wasn’t the one on the mound. My head dropped, and out of frustration with myself, I banged it against the steering wheel a couple of times.
“You moron,” I scolded myself out loud.
Finally looking up, I noticed that Gloria was waving at me, so I got out of the car and made my way across the field. Logan and I locked eyes as I got closer to his dugout, but when I waved at him, he glared at me and looked back out to the field.
“Hey.” I couldn’t even muster up a fake smile when I got to Gloria, and in true Gloria fashion, she pursed her lips and just shook her head. “I know, I know—” I started to defend myself but stopped. I didn’t even have an excuse. Becca ran over and climbed up into my arms.
“He’s upset. Very upset.” Gloria’s tone was sharp, critical even, as she stared out onto the field. “He went to the bathroom a few minutes ago, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t to use the toilet. His cheeks were red and his eyes were puffy when he came out.”
