Page 7 of Play Me
“I’m only asking that you do for him what you did for me when I was playing,” he says.
“So I should plan on answering calls from his father about why he’s in the emergency room with contusions on his head and a prostitute in his hotel room who refuses to leave?”
“That wasn’t like it sounds, and you know it.”
I watch him carefully. He’s avoiding my gaze and grabbing at the collar of his shirt—two telltale signs that he’s hiding something. “What are you not saying?”
“There may be rumors of gambling problems and a fetish for sex workers.”
“Renn!”
He holds his hands out in front of him. “For what it’s worth, I don’t believe them. And I want you to think about it like this—I’m going to pay you to help someone turn their life around.”
“That would be great if I cared.” I shrug, pausing to give him a moment to remember who he’s talking to. “But I don’t. I don’t care whether he turns his life around, if he gives his money away, or if he gets his dick wet at the rabbit ranch or bunny basket or whatever it’s called.”
Renn presses his lips together and tries not to laugh.
“You realize what you’re doing to me, don’t you?” I ask. “You’re asking me to babysit a grown-ass man. If I wanted to do that, I would’ve worked for your youngest brother.”
“Just through the rest of rugby season, and we’re already halfway done. Then we’ll reassess.”
I slide my pen from my clipboard and throw it at him. He chuckles, moving his head an inch to the right and easily dodging the projectile. The device sails right by, landing next to a lamp.
I don’talwayslove Renn Brewer.
My lips pucker in annoyance at the position Renn has put me in. Athletes are generally my least favorite humans. And the thought of having to deal with the arrogance, moodiness, and demands of a rugby hero—because they all think they’re one—makes my skin crawl.
But what can I really do?
I had twenty dollars to my name when I met Renn’s sister, Bianca. Hours before our impromptu meeting at the dry cleaner’s where I worked, my then-boyfriend had thrown me out of his apartment over a busty brunette with bright blue eyes. I had no money and nowhere to go besides asking my friends if I could couch surf—something my pridecouldn’tdo. Bianca came in as I was preparing to ask my boss if I could stay in the back of the building until I could get on my feet.
While another employee located Bianca’s garments, we started talking. And through a series of fortunate events, I was able to offer her tips on getting wine out of her coat, told her who to call to locate missing luggage from an airline, and I fixed her Social account from automatically cross-posting her content to another platform.
Before she left, she gave me her card. Two days later, I was officially Renn’s and her personal assistant, and introduced to a world I didn’t know existed. She changed my life, and I’ll never forget that.
“What will it take?” Renn asks.
“What do you mean—what will it take?”
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get you on board.”
“What if I say there’s no way to do that?”
He smirks. “Then I’ll just have to wear you down.”
I groan, knowing that’s exactly what he’ll do … and that he’ll eventually succeed. Because even though this is a no-good, awful, terrible idea, my loyalty is to Renn. If he needs me to corral one of his minions, I can’t say no.
My gaze shifts from Renn to the floor-to-ceiling windows on my left, displaying a near-panoramic view of Nashville. Although I’ve seen it countless times from this vantage point, it never ceases to steal my breath. The mix of modern skyscrapers and iconic landmarks is beautiful. The lazy Cumberland River winding through the city and the pockets of green forests breaking up the concrete jungle create a living art exhibit. I could watch the cars crawling below for hours.
And to see it all from this perch in the sky, in one of the swankiest offices in the city?It’s more than I ever imagined for myself.
“I’ll double your pay,” he says flatly.
My jaw drops. “What?”
“I’ll double it unless that’s not enough. Name your price.”
“Whoa, slow down,” I say, laughing in disbelief. “You’re starting to talk out of your ass.”
