Page 12 of His Cruel Billionaire Scorecard

“We’re handling Mr. Grant.”

“Grant? Like Grant Lake? The basketball star?” Jane asked, her eyes widening in shock.

Linda fixed her with a look of disdain.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t gotten yourself affiliated with the amount of sports stars we are managing?”

“Oh no, I have, mostly. I’m sorry, but I’m just surprised as Mr. Grant is such a big star!”

Linda threw her hands up as if to say, ‘duh’!

“Of course, he’s a big star like all the others we manage, and we’re a big sports agency company.”

Linda crossed her arms, “the only problem here is that he was supposed to sign with Mr Marcus Reeves, you know?”

“Our biggest industry rival?” Olivia asked.

“Yes, and due to some personal reasons, he decided to give us a try, but only if we can prepare a smattering dinner for publicity, charity, and marketing.

He’s planning to leave his team for another, you know? But whatever, it’s not in my place to say; just know that we need someone to step up and manage him, but the management system of an athlete, especially one as big as him, is complex, and the indicators are overwhelming—you have to think of the publicity he has and to think of his personal needs. You have to think of his culture too, it’s not even 9, and I’m already exhausted.”

“Now you’re looking for someone to manage the event for tonight and make sure it goes seamlessly, right?”

“Yes! Yes! That’s exactly what I want, and you know what? I’m leaving it in the hands of you two,” Linda said, putting a hand on each of the stacks of files they were holding.

“Don’t screw this up.”

Jane turned to Olivia after Linda left to resume her phone call and disappeared, barking orders.

“Olivia, I’m so scared. I hope I don’t get demoted like—“

“Like me?”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I don’t mind, of course, you should do everything possible not to go down a rank like I have, Jane. I’ll see you in an hour and I’ll let you know what I’ve come up with,” Olivia said, smiling.

“I’ll be in my office.”

Hopefully, Jane should have figured it out by then, Olivia thought.

Unbeknownst to Olivia, Roman, the enigmatic CEO of the company, observed the scene from his glass-walled office on the upper floor. A smile of amusement on his face.

***

Two hours later, the commotion hadn’t yet died down; in fact, it had risen to a fever pitch.

Everyone was on their feet and contributing.

Mr. Grant wanted to host the dinner party in about seven hours, and the majority of sports representatives, celebrities, and reporters were going to be there. It was supposed to be a charity/publicity ball, but everything was under the guise of politics.

Everyone was giving their all. If a company like Mr. Roman’s was going to be in charge, they had to show that they could pull off such huge work on such short notice, and everyone was putting in their best.

An hour later, a knock sounded on Jane’s door.

“Come in,” Jane said, and Olivia had to chuckle at the sight of her friend.

Sitting at her desk, surrounded by stacks of papers and a labyrinth of folders, Jane’s face displayed a mix of confusion and frustration. Her eyes darted across the computer screen, trying to make sense of the complex athlete management system. But the intricacies of managing a star basketball player were proving to be overwhelming, pushing her beyond her comfort zone.

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