Page 7 of Let It Be Me
I’ve moved on to thinking about bigger and better things. Yet, the only bigger and better thing I can’t stop thinking about is the hot one night stand from six months ago. I swear he cast some sort of spell over me to where no other hook-up seems appealing anymore.
Alas, I’ve been advised that burying myself in work is merely a weak band-aid to the stitching that’s required. But, so far, I’m happy. At least, that’s what I feed my therapist in our bi-weekly sessions.
On top of working harder than ever, I’ve filled my time with my girls and their boos. I’m glad my friends have found their happiness. And I’m more than happy to seventh wheel it when need be.
I’m lookingover the contract for an upcoming photoshoot for Nate, my baseball player in his fourth year, when my boss knocks on my door.
My head pops up at the noise. “Hey, Jeff. What’s up?” I ask and take my glasses off.
He shuts the door and comes to sit in front of my desk. “Have you checked the headlines?”
“No,” I say skeptically. My eyes flash to my computer that’s gone on screensaver mode having not been used in the last thirty minutes. I really should change that setting as my inbox is usually flooded with a dozen emails after thirty minutes.
“Hockey,” he says with zero context clues.
“..is a sport,” I say as I finish his sentence for him.
He gives me a look that’s earned me more smacks to the back of the head from my parents than allowed.
“I know you were looking to expand your client list in the next year. But we’re going to have to rush that.”
Behind the scenes I’ve reached out to other agents to see if their clients needed new reps in terms of publicity. I have a few who are looking for partial representation, which works for me. But if I fear this conversation is going to go the way I think it is, then I’ll have to nix the other contracts.
“Why?”
“Riley Jones. Have you heard of him?” Jeff asks.
My mind flips through the hockey players that I have heard of and his name pops up in my mental rolodex. It’s sort of my job to know the athletes in Ohio because at any moment, any one of them could need new representation. “Sure. Hometown golden boy. Drafted his first year in college as a right winger, but he committed to playing all four years at Columbus State before starting his first game with the Blue Jays. And that’s about all I know. Why?” I feel like that word has left my mouth one too many times since Jeff set foot in my office.
He gives me the look I’ve seen him give his daughter on more than one occasion. The one that says more than words. The look that makes her do what he asked of her despite the moaning and groaning it took to get to that point.
I shake my head as realization settles in. “No. Absolutely not. Jeff, I was joking last week when I said it wouldn’t be a bad idea if he had a babysitter. Plus, I don't have the time to reform, babysit, whatever you want to call it, a twenty-three year old hotshot who thinks he’s God’s gift to the sport and women.” I sit back in my chair with a huff.
“Sure you do. Mason’s schedule is light, Nate’s on anaway stretch right now, Jordan is doing fantastic in Cleveland, and Miles is crushing it with FC. You have time.”
Not only do I cover ground with my athletes in Cincinnati, but I’m also in Cleveland, which is my furthest trek for work, as well with three clients there. Columbus would be my first and while I have been looking to expand my client list to the minor league teams in Akron and Dayton, I wanted to do so in the next few years. Not right now as Jeff is proposing.
“Why can’t someone else do it? Like Travis?” I feel bad for throwing him under the bus. But really? Why me?
“That’s the thing. Riley was with his agent, who’s a guy, when–”
I groan and drop my head to my desk before sitting right back up. “What’s in it for me?” I ask, because if I know Jeff, it’s that he won’t stop until I say yes. And when an athlete is in hot water with his agent, that means the team is doing PR damage control and needs to “rehabilitate” the athlete before they decide he’s no longer worth the hassle and choose to trade him or drop him altogether.
“A raise, more vacation days, and really anything else,” he says as he lists off each item. Jeff loves this company. He started with a few athletes before he brought me and eventually a few other agents on. Again, we’re a small agency but we have some big name and rising star athletes on our roster.
“First class seating on every flight I need to take plus a guest, whether it’s for business or pleasure. The rest of my student loans paid off, paid lunches, and anything else I will bring straight to you.” I throw at him.
Jeff chews on his cheek in thought. I know he’ll agree. Just like he agrees to everything else I bargain with. My boss is like the older brother I never had. Being an only child, Imade friends quickly and made sure to hold onto them with all my might. Really, Jeff got lucky. I’m a catch. Which I reiterate to him weekly. “Deal.”
My shoulders release from my ears and I stop swinging my foot when Jeff makes no move to vacate the seat he’s taken. “What else?” I ask because I know there's something else. Jeff always sugarcoats things with me, despite me telling him I don’t want or need that.
“He’s here.”
I slam my head against my headrest this time and clench my fists. My manicured nails dig into my palms as I clench my fists. “Jeff…” I groan out.
“Did I mention you’re the best employee ever?”
“Unless you want to pay off my mortgage too, you should stop buttering me up.” I tell him as I sit up and unclench my fists.
