Page 16 of Virgin Pass

“Hello, Miss Connor.” The voice is so cocky I jerk to a stop, but it’s not Austin. Not even close. “This is Brad King, only you might know me as the Kingmaker.”

What is it with cocky quarterbacks and the need for nicknames?“I know who you are, Mr. King,” I say, starting to move again. Brad King’s relationship with his agent over at Sports Authority One has already been making the rounds, and I am, of course, definitely aware of the rookie’s stats. “How can I help you?”

“Well, my agent is pushing me to sign the Warriors’ contract, and he’s holding up some endorsement deals before I do. So I’m shopping for a new agent.”

My eyebrows shoot up. I suspect the agent knows more of what he’s doing than Brad does, but still—business is business. “You know I’m repping Austin Striker.” For at least the next few hours, anyway, until Austin gets Eddy on the line.

“Yeah, yeah. I know you’re the coach’s daughter too,” Brad says smoothly, with the colossal unconcern of an elite athlete used to getting his way. “You ain’t got a problem with it, I don’t have a problem with it. I just need an agent who’s willing to do what I need them to do, when I need them to do it.”

Agenting doesn’t exactly work that way, but I’m willing to hear the guy out. It’s unusual for an agency to be repping two quarterbacks on the same team, but it’s not completely unheard of. And as much as it sucks, if Austin goes back to Eddy…

“Why don’t we set up a time to meet,” I tell Brad, though it’s all I can do to force enthusiasm into my voice. I don’t want to meet with Brad, I want to rep Austin. But I also need to keep my job as an agent and…agents need clients. “In fact, as my first act as your future agent, here’s some advice: get back on the field.”

“But those endorsements—”

“Mean nothing if you aren’t on every TV every week,” I fire back, annoyed he doesn’t already see it the same way. Rookies. “Mr. King, if you’re not a household name, those pursuing you for endorsements will drop you so fast for someone who is it will make your head spin. It doesn’t matter what your potential is if you’re not out on the field.”

“For reals?”

“For reals,” I repeat and roll my eyes.

“Yeah, okay. I hear you. I’ll return to practice. Thanks, future agent.” He ends the call.

My heart lurches at the reality of me giving really good advice to Austin’s competition. But maybe if Austin sees me with Brad, he’ll change his mind about me repping him. Maybe he’ll realize he can’t live without me. I have to believe that, anyway. The alternative isn’t an option. So, fine. I’ll take a meeting with Brad King. I won’t ask for permission—and I won’t ask for consensus.

My heart surges with excitement, and I nearly burst out with laughter. Talk about a quarterback sneak!

I lift my chin and march to my car. I can do this.

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