Page 14 of Second Down Fake

“Kweame, I need advice,” I said, diverting the conversation away from Rob and back to my problem. The entire reason I’d driven to Rob’s house.

“I say you lie low, keep your head down. This will pass. Just give it time.”

* * *

“We need to spin this.” James Easton placed two hands on his giant mahogany desk, his mouth set in a frown that miraculously didn’t mar his skin. “We’re getting calls from sponsors. Angry calls.”

James could handle Coach Simmons’ disappointment, but the second the real money got involved, he turned hot. Which is what I paid the man for. He’d taken a projected first-round draft pick and turned it into a hefty payday, though not only through my NFL contract but so many sponsorships that a fan could wear, eat, and drink only Diego Salazar branded products.

“I apologized to Zoey.”

He sighed, his arms straining against his custom-tailored suit as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “But did she tell the press? Did she call back that reporter? No. She’s been radio silent.”

I shrugged. “What do you want me to do? Force her to put out a statement? I’m telling you, that won’t end how you want it to.”

He pushed himself away from his desk, trudging over to his rolling bar in the corner of the expansive office. He poured amber liquid out of a crystal decanter, notably not offering me a glass, and downed the drink in a single gulp. “This year is huge for us, Diego. Huge. The Breakers have a legitimate run at the Super Bowl. You’ve got some key contracts set to expire in October and we can leverage them into a much bigger deal this round. These are giant paychecks, and I don’t want you fucking them up with your personal life.”

I suppressed a snort. “Well, some of us need to have a personal life.”

He glared at me. And for all I knew, James had a family with seven kids. Or he lived alone in a high-rise apartment. For the last four years, he’d been on-call seemingly at all hours of the day and night with no personal obligations. I’d never heard so much as another voice on the other end of the line when I’d called him.

“I have a personal life, thank you. I’m just capable of keeping it separate from my professional life.” He stiffened, taking a breath before returning to his desk. He placed his fingertips on a plain brown manila envelope and slid it across the desk. “Now, I’ve taken this to our public relations firm for input and we came up with a list of ways to move the focus off your breakup and back onto the field.”

I leaned forward and took the envelope, ripping open the top and pulling out the three-prong-folder with a glossy front cover. I flipped through the article titles and gossip columns to the end. Scanning through the list of potential solutions, I stopped at the last. “A new girlfriend?”

“Not someone as flashy as Zoey. We don’t want to drum up any love triangle, revenge dating drama. Just someone who can crush the rumors…”

“That I date women for clout?” I rolled my eyes, closing the folder and setting it back on the desk. “Rob had the same suggestion. And I just had to have a tea party with his kid. What’d this firm cost?”

“Plenty, but there are a few good ones in there. If you’re positive Zoey won’t come back with a second interview, I say we just hire an online reputation management firm to drive down the worst of the stuff online. In a couple of weeks, it’ll be gone.”

“How much will that cost?”

James shrugged. “A lot to anyone else.”

I rubbed my eyebrow, wishing he’d had offered me a drink.

“How about this? We see where we are in a week. If you’re still center stage, I hire the firm. If it’s blown over, we don’t talk about this again and you get me to handle your next break up.” He sighed. “But I need you to keep yourself out of trouble this season. I’m taking on a few more clients and now that you’re an NFL veteran, I shouldn’t have to handhold you that much.”

“If you wanted an easy client, you should have taken on another Noa.”

“Noa doesn’t sign sponsorship deals like you, and you know it. And I’m not asking for me. I’m asking because I don’t want you getting traded next season.”

“Do you honestly think the team would allow that?”

James shrugged. “I’m not privy to those conversations. What I do know is that Coach Simmons has successfully rehabbed his image in the eyes of the owner and been given carte blanche to run the team as long as he keeps banking wins. And I know he’s been clear that it’s done as a team, not with single individuals. There are at least three top-tier college players coming into the next draft, and if he wanted to make a point, he would. So, unless you’re dying to test his influence or ready to relocate, I suggest you watch yourself this season.”

I gave James a fake salute and pushed myself out of my seat. “I’m on my best behavior. No parties. No drama.”

“No Trent!” James added.

“Except at practice. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” He raised an eyebrow. “It’s three in the afternoon. How much trouble could I get in?”

“You tell me.”

SIX

DIEGO

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