Page 161 of How to Lose at Love

I havea problem that only my agent can help me fix.

Rather than call him or message him, I video-chat him, sitting on the edge of the couch in the living room, knee bouncing up and down as I anxiously wait for him to answer.

“What’s up, buddy?” He pops his earbuds in, then leans back in his desk chair. “How have you been holding up?”

Eli wasn’t exactly thrilled with the latest developments but understands this sort of thing happens, shitty as it is.

“I think I need your help.”

“Oh? How so?”

“You know I’ve been seen with Ryann Winters, but what you don’t know is that she’s someone I actually want to date. Likedate—for real for real.”

“For real?” He smiles. “Okay. And?”

“Obviously she wants nothing to do with me because of that photograph, but I’m wondering if there’s a video of it floating around somewhere that we can get our hands on?”

Surely Eli has a connection with the tabloids. Or his agency’s publicists do?

I need to get ahold of it.

Eli steeples his fingers as he spins around in his desk chair, thinking. Taps the tips of his fingers on his chin.

“Hmm, would I know someone who could get their hands on that?” He hums. “Yes, most likely.” He inhales. “It won’t be cheap, but it’s likely.”

I perk up, sitting up straight, knee stops jiggling. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” He cocks his head, studying me through the phone. “You don’t honestly believe this is the first time I’ve had to deal with a woman trying to blackmail a player into whatever it is she wants from him, do you?”

“For real?”

“For real.” He spins again. “I once had a woman go to the press alleging one of my players got her pregnant and then dumped her. He claimed not only did he never sleep with her, they’d never even met. Turned out she wasn’t pregnant and the whole thing was a wild attempt at getting his attention.”

“That’s sick.”

He nods. “Yup, but that’s the business. Well, the dark side of it anyway. I could sit here and talk for hours about the shady shit that goes on, all the side deals. Extortion. Blackmail. And I’m not just talking about fans or women, either. Plenty of players have landed in hot water by doing illegal shit.”

Damn.

I’d love to know more about that, but not right now; now is not the time.

Eli stops moving in his desk chair and juts out his bottom lip. “Tell you what—if my sources come through as they usually do, there’s a good chance we can run a counter story during your next game.”

Which is this weekend.

“That would be great.”

“No promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“I appreciate it.”

“I’m sure you do,” Eli says solemnly. “Focus. Keep your head down, stay out of more trouble.”

I nod. “Of course.”

“I’ll be in touch.” His hand reaches up and he taps his earbud, his screen going blank, sound cutting out.

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