Page 64 of Playing Rucking Hard

Dylan

“You are a fucking idiot.” My agent barely waits for Bronx to slam the office door behind them before turning on me. Warner is supposed to be on my side, but it sure as fuck feels like he’s ready to throw me to the wolves. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I’m not saying anything.” I remain seated at the small conference table, allowing people to pace and stand around mein a position of power. They need me more than I need them. They need me at my best on the field. They can’t sack me … can they?

“Kareene accused you of stalking her cheerleaders … as in plural cheerleaders. They have pulled security footage. Do you want to guess how many times you’ve been captured walking into the cheerleader locker rooms?”

“I apologized. Let’s move on.”

“They want to rip up your contract. Not just for this year, but if word leaks that you are a stalker, how many teams will want to take you on?” Warner tears at his hair, pacing the room until coming to a stop next to the window. “If you would just explain. Tell them that one of the women has been leading you on. Tell them you’ve been in a secret relationship with one of the cheerleaders. Tell them anything and we’ll get her dealt with, you’ll get a slap on the wrist, and we can all move on.”

And that’s the problem. The easy way out is to sack Emma. Kareene can’t prove which locker I was in front of. From what I’ve heard, she narrowed it down to three, but because of the angles and my moving around, she didn’t get a clear view. As for the origami notes, no one suspects a thing. They are Emma’s nod to game day superstitions, and even if someone opened and read them, who’s to say Nyx or #13275 aren’t the cleaner and security?

“Let them,” I say. “Do they want to win games, or not? I’m the best fullback the team has, and there’s no one on the market to replace me.”

“Think about the big picture, Dyl.” Warner drops into a seat, pleading with me as if his commission is on the line. “Think about your brother. If word gets out that you’re being accused of stalking, no court will grant you custody.”

Fuck. No.Not Squid.

Trust Warner to play the card I can’t ignore.

“I apologized. What else do they want from me that I can give them?” My voice is contrite and remorseful. Warner is paid to be on my side, and I need him to work harder than using his platinum credit card to pick up the tab. I need him to prove why he’s worth his commission.

“You’re not gonna give up the girl?”

“What about a formal warning and they add more community service to the wholeAustralia’s Favorite Bachelorshit.”

“Well, that’s the thing.” Warner shakes his head. “How would it look if the Mavericks’ favorite fullback andAustralia’s Favorite Bacheloris accused of stalking? Talk about a clusterfuck. We were going so well, and I have agents lining up with dates for you.”

“I don’t want those dates, but you’re right. It is a risk. Any woman can accuse me of anything. Today, it’s Kareena, but tomorrow or next week or even next year, it could be anyone you set me up with. What about accusing me of damaging her mental health or reputation because I don’t agree to a second date? This whole fake date thing is bullshit.”

“And you don’t want to cheat on your girlfriend, right?”

“Right,” I say before realizing the trap. “Fuck. Don’t ask and I won’t lie.”

“So, tell me what you can offer up and I’ll work with Benz directly to make it happen.”

This is more like it. I’ve had time to practice my response. “Priority one, I want the Mavericks to leak that they can’t confirm a contract extension for next year. I’ve already contacted Dawson’s lawyer, Hunt. He’s going to take over my guardianship case and work with you if I need a lawyer for my current contract. If Fucking Fleski thinks my career is nosediving, maybe we’ll get to a number he can’t refuse.”

“I thought you didn’t want to pay him a cent?”

I think back to Emma and Sage. Money is secondary to her sister’s health. If she had the same choice, would she let ego define her decision? Of course, not. That’s not who Emma is. For fuck’s sake, Emma gave up her US dream to come back and raise her sister. Any time I think about a nineteen-year-old flying back to Australia after hearing about the car accident, not knowing if her sister was still alive when she touched down in Sydney, I want to hold Emma until her nightmares fade. Does she have nightmares? Or is she so caught up in supporting Sage, that she hasn’t processed her own grief?

Emma is my hero.

In a world of fame-obsessed, money-hungry, self-obsessed assholes, Emma is my light.

What would Emma do? I know the answer and feel shame for prioritizing my pride ahead of Little Squid? The quicker I get Squid away from that asshole, the less damage he can cause.

Without explaining, I call Hunt and put him on speaker.

“Dylan.” At least he answers his cell, and I don’t have to talk my way through his gatekeepers. “Do you want to explain why I should respond to the messages from Benedict Christianson wanting to terminate your contract?”

“If the Mavericks issue me a formal breach notice, what will that do to the value of my personal brand?” I love asking questions when I know the answers.

“Fuck, no,” Warner says at the same time Hunt replies, “You’ll be left with name recognition and limited Australian options for next year. Essentially, if you want to remain in Australia with your brother, you might be lucky to get high five- or low six- figures.”

“Offer Fucking Fleski one hundred grand, conditional on him signing an NDA that covers me, my brother and our mother. Tell him that the offer reduces $10,000 for every hour he delays in signing. Send him six-hourly updates on the revised offer.”

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