Playing Dirty

by C. L. Parker

  “But Detroit offered you so much money.” Even though I knew it was a point for Shaw, I wanted Denver to be sure he was making the right decision.

  Apparently, he’d already given it a lot of thought. “I know, but money can’t replace family. And if I have any hope at all of making it through this with everything I have going on, I’m going to need them more than ever.”

  Again, my cell went off. Whoever was on the other end of the line was going to get an earful from me.

  “I’m so sorry, Denver, but can you excuse me for just one second?” I said as I begrudgingly yanked my phone out.

  “Oh, yeah, sure. Go ahead.”

  “Thanks. It’ll just be a second. I promise,” I reassured him with a polite smile that disappeared the second I turned my face away. I answered the phone without even bothering to look at the caller ID. “What?” I said through gritted teeth, annoyed by the relentless interruptions.

  “Cass, it’s Abby,” came the gentle voice of Casey’s mom on the other end of the line.

  Though she was Ma’s very best friend, the fact she was calling could mean only one thing. Something very bad had happened to someone I loved dearly. The question was, who? Casey? Ma? Da?

  I stood, afraid that if I didn’t then, I’d never be able to again. Swallowing the dread lodged in my throat, I finally managed to push my voice out: “What’s wrong? Is everyone okay?”

  She was quiet. Too quiet. And my entire world was in free fall.

  “Your ma took a tumble from the roof. She’s hurt pretty bad.”

  “What? Is she going to be okay?”

  There was a pause that I didn’t like in the least, and then: “You should probably come home, sweetheart.”

  I went numb except for that tingling feeling you might expect to have when in a hypnotic state. Dazed and confused, on autopilot. “Right. Okay. I’m on my way.” That was all that needed to be said for the time being, so I hung up.

  If someone from home called to tell you that you needed to get back there, you went. They wouldn’t call me unless something catastrophic had happened. So I didn’t ask any more questions. I’d get more details on the way, but for now, any remaining functioning part of my brain needed to be focused on rearranging my life so I could get there as fast as humanly possible.

  “I’ve gotta go,” I said, picking up my bag before heading toward the exit. “Is the car still waiting?”

  Denver stood and took my arm, bending at the knee to look me in the eye. “Wait a minute, Cassidy—did you hear me?”

  I was sure I had, but I couldn’t remember a damn word of it.

  “I said I want to sign you as my agent.” Oh, yeah. He was smiling, excited, eager … all the things I should’ve been, while my mind was three thousand miles away.

  My next words were painful but, since I was faced with no other option, necessary: “I’m sorry, Denver. I can’t accept the position.”

  He looked like he’d been expecting the words. “Because I’m gay and it would be too hard. I understand.” Denver bowed his head in shame, and I couldn’t have that, because not a word of it was true.

  “God, no, Denver. I don’t give a shit what people think about your sexuality. It has nothing at all to do with that. I have a personal matter to attend to, and I don’t know how long it’s going to take. Please, you have to believe me.”

  He nodded, clearly trying to. The responsible thing would’ve been to stay right where I was until he knew I meant what I’d said, but time simply wasn’t on my side. I was needed elsewhere, and I had no idea what horror was awaiting me.

  “You should give the job to Shaw. You owe him at least that much, and he’s going to make you a lot of money.”

  I believed every word of what I’d said; if Denver made money, it meant Shaw would make money. And that was his one and only true love. Not that I gave a shit. Some things were more important, and I’d be on my way to those very things within twenty-four hours. Less, if I had anything to say about it.

  CHAPTER 19

  Shaw

  Touchdown!

  I’d won. The most coveted quarterback in the nation, Denver “Rocket Man” Rockford, was mine. Though the actual signing hadn’t happened yet, his call telling me to hurry over to discuss his future was all I’d needed to hear.

  Suck on that, Cassidy Whalen!

  I winced, the perma-grin crinkling the corner of my left eye sending a painful reminder that the battle had been hard fought. Damn woman had given me a shiner almost two days ago, and I still hadn’t come up with a story that didn’t make me look like a pussy. I supposed I’d deserved the mean right jab she’d dished out. Her personal shit was none of my business, though if she hadn’t backed me into a corner and peeled the flesh from my bones like a premed student working over a cadaver maybe I wouldn’t have felt the need to launch a counterattack in order to make my escape. No one had ever made me feel so raw. And I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  When the car pulled up to Denver’s house, I shook that shit off. Every carefully calculated move I’d made and every emotional barrier I’d thrown up had helped me become the business-savvy man I was today. And that man was looking at a very lucrative future, a future that was close enough to reach out and touch.

  My new client was living large, indeed. It wasn’t really that I hadn’t already known that, but seeing was believing. And I was taking it all in. Stepping out of the car, I inhaled deeply, smelling the success saturating the air surrounding the expensive homes that enhanced the golden coast’s landscape. Someone else just like me, someone who set goals and never quit until they saw them morph into realities, occupied each one of these homes. These were my people, and I felt like a king.

  Turning toward the door, I pushed my shoulders back and started up the walkway as if I owned it. This was the sort of place I wanted. It was what I deserved. And I couldn’t help the sense of accomplishment I had in that moment, knowing that with each advancing step, I was closer to getting it. If I kept on the road I was headed down, signed the superstar athletes, made all the right plays, scored the game-winning points, the name my good-for-nothing parents had given me at birth would finally mean something. Maybe then, I’d finally be good enough for …

  I stopped the thought dead in its tracks. My own steps followed suit, and I turned around in a circle as if something in my surroundings would present an answer as to what in the hell could’ve possibly made my brain go there in the first place. Holy shit, but that line of thinking was ten kinds of fucked up.

  Before I could examine the whys of it any further, Denver opened the front door to the house, his head drawing back as he examined my face. “Damn, man. What happened to you?”

  I was sure he meant the swollen eye. “Sometimes it’s not easy being Shaw Matthews,” I said with a nonchalant laugh. “Don’t worry, it looks worse than it feels,” I lied.

  “Still, better you than me.” Denver’s big meaty paw landed hard on my back. “Come on in, amigo, and thanks for getting here so soon.”

  “Hey, you’re the man, and what the man wants, the man gets,” I said with a dazzling smile.

  “Gotta admit, I like the sound of that,” he said, leading me into the main living area. He offered me a seat on the leather sofa. “Can I get you a beer or something?”

  “I’m good, but thank you.” I sat my briefcase down and adjusted my tie, anxious to get down to it. “So what’s this all about?”

  The beefy football star sat on the arm of the chair to my right, steepling his fingers as he looked for the words to start. “Right to the point, huh?” he laughed. “That’s cool. Short and sweet works for me.” The carefree expression he’d worn was replaced with one less preferable, one that made me nervous. “I know you put in a lot of work on the Detroit deal, and I really appreciate it.”

  I heard the hanging “but” echo before he even said it.

  “But I’ve decided I’m going to sign with Colorado.”

  There it was. I’d been overly confiden
t, thinking the summons here was about his decision to sign with me. That was wrong. Colorado was the angle Cassidy had been working. Shit. The biggest player in the game had chosen a girl to represent him.

  I nodded, feeling hard-pressed to throw in the towel. “Colorado is a great franchise, with some of the most loyal fans around, but Detroit will pay a whole hell of a lot more money,” I said, hoping it wasn’t too late to change his mind. “I can do that for you, Denver.”

  “Oh, I know you can,” he said reassuringly. And then he shifted uncomfortably. “You see, the thing is, there’s a reason I want to go to Colorado. Money wasn’t the deciding factor.”

  I had a feeling a certain redhead with a banging body had been key in his decision. Damn it. How was I supposed to compete with tits and ass? Though it might have been a little underhanded, we were at war, and I wasn’t ready to wave the white flag without using every weapon in my arsenal. So it was time I pointed out the horrors associated with working so closely with a significant other. Most of all, the questionable intent. It was business, not personal. Okay, so maybe it was a little personal.

  “Before you go any further, let me just point out the ethical repercussions of this situation.” I stopped my rant when he tilted his head to regard me with disbelief.

  “You already know?”

  He’d brought Cassidy along as a date to my big show, and he didn’t think I’d noticed? “Well, yeah. It was sort of obvious.”

  Denver looked down at the floor. “Wow. And you still went to jail for me?” He perked up then, scooting to the edge of his seat so fast it made me back up. “Hey, man, I’m so sorry about that, by the way. It was a shit move on my part. I never should’ve let it get out of control. And, dude, Cassidy went off on me about it.”

  Fuck me. Cassidy had come clean to Denver about our affair, and now he was feeling bad because he thought he’d stolen my girl after all I’d done for him. And worse, she’d gotten in his face about it?

  “But you understand I had to set all that up to maintain my image, right?”

  Things had officially taken a turn toward Weirdville. I wasn’t sure we were even having the same conversation anymore. “As a playboy?” It was the only thing that made sense.

  “Well, yeah.” He gave a humorless laugh. “Can you imagine what it would do to my career if it got out that I’m gay?”

  What? I needed a moment to recapture the tiny three-letter word I was sure I’d just caught. “Hold on.”

  Denver must not have heard me, because he went full steam ahead with his explanation: “I mean, I know there are supposed to be equal rights and all, but you and I both know they’d find some other way to push me out. And then the shit I’d have to go through with the other players and maybe even the fans …” He ran his hands over his short hair. “Man, I’m not planning any press conferences for the big reveal anytime soon. Truthfully, I’m still trying to come to grips with all this myself, but at least it seems to get a little easier to say each time I do.”

  The pause he took to contemplate his last statement was an opportunity I had to grab if I was ever going to get a word in edgewise. “Let me make sure I have all of this straight.” I squirmed in my seat, searching for the right words. Though there really were only two to sum it up. “You’re gay?”

  Denver looked at me then, the realization that I hadn’t known that all along settling in his features. “Yeah. Is that gonna be a problem? I mean, because if you think it would make your job as my agent too hard, I understand. But I’m going to have to ask you not to tell anyone else, because I need to handle that in my own way and on my own time.”

  I could absolutely respect that, but Denver being gay didn’t matter to me. And though his concern about the impact it would have on his career was important, I wasn’t scared. We could finesse that. It was the other little nugget of information hidden among all those words that was the tidbit my brain had focused on. “Are you saying you want me to be your agent, Denver?”

  “Yes, I’d like to offer you the position of my agent.” Each word was carved out as if by an X-Acto knife. Denver was leaving no room for further confusion. “What do you say? Interested?”

  Even though it was ass-backwards, I felt like Renée Zellweger to Denver’s Jerry Maguire. “Interested? Denver, man, you had me at hello.”

  I don’t think he got the reference, at least if his “So is that a yes?” was any indication.

  “No. That’s a hell yes!” I laughed at his silly question. Not so much because it was funny but because I was giddy with joy at the words finally, finally being said.

  “Whew! Good, man,” Denver said, falling off the arm of the chair and into its seat. “You have no idea how stressful this has been on me. Maybe I can relax a little now.”

  Stressful on him? I chuckled to myself. Holy shit, the constant ups and downs I’d endured during this entire process had really done a number on my emotions. And I wasn’t even an emotional guy. I needed a fucking drink. And a vacation. Someplace sunny and warm and full of half-naked, exotic beauties at my beck and call. But not yet. No way was either one of us able to relax. We had things to do, deals to sign, and money to make. I was in high gear, primed and ready to do the best work of my life.

  Putting my briefcase on the coffee table, I opened it and started pulling out the contract I’d already prepared. Maybe it had been presumptuous of me, but damned if it hadn’t been right on time. I couldn’t wait to rub Miss Goody Two-shoes’ face in this. My rabbit had snuffed her turtle and left it choking on my dust.

  “Rocket, you won’t regret this. I’m telling you, you made the right decision, man. Cassidy’s good at her job and all, but the bottom line is, I’m the man for you. I’m going to make you so much more money than—”

  Denver cut me off with a hearty laugh. “You’re good, man, but I feel like I need to keep it real with you, just like you would with me.”

  “I absolutely would.” My smile stayed in place even though my stomach was churning.

  “You came in second place, bro.”

  “What?” My face was frozen, cheeks lifted high and skin pulled tight with the mask I was trying desperately to keep in place. Surely I’d misheard him. “But I thought you said you were going with me?”

  “I am. But you weren’t my first choice. I offered it to Cassidy yesterday, but she shot me down and broke my fucking heart. She was the only person, other than my mama, who ever put me in my place. I’ve got mad respect for that. So I would’ve signed with her … if she hadn’t sidelined herself.”

  “She sidelined herself?” The words were forced through my clenched teeth and ticking jaw.

  “Yeah. She pulled out, man. Said she was no longer interested. I thought it was because I’m gay and she couldn’t get on board with that, but when I asked her, she said it wasn’t. She wouldn’t tell me the real reason. Just said it was personal and I should give you the job because I owed you at least that much. My mama told me to do whatever that little woman says to do. So”—he stuck out his hand—“congratulations, man. It’s you and me against the world … just like you said.”

  Being the runner-up in a contest was almost worse than coming in last place: it meant you were good enough but someone else was just a little bit better. Ask any Miss America second placer and I’d bet they’d say it was an honor, but I wasn’t a fucking chick and I didn’t give a damn if Cassidy was prettier than me or had a better body. My biggest concern wasn’t world peace or feeding all the starving children, because once upon a time, I had been one of those starving children, smack-dab in the middle of a war zone right here in the good ol’ U.S. of A., and I’d survived. On my own. This was supposed to be my story about how I’d overcome the odds stacked against me to go on to be the most unlikely yet successful agent of all time.

  Worse than coming in second was that the sense of accomplishment and hope for the future I’d been soaring high on seconds before had just been plucked out of the sky by a do-gooder looking to make herself feel b
etter. Goddammit, I was a man. I wasn’t Cassidy Whalen’s charity case, and I didn’t need her fucking handouts. But that was exactly what this was. She’d given me the contract because she pitied me.

  No, Shaw. I genuinely feel sorry for you. Her words had carried the sting of a thousand killer bees when she’d said them before. But now? Now they crept across my skin like an army of flesh-eating fire ants looking to strip me clean down to the bone. Well, I wouldn’t go gently. I was a scrappy motherfucker, with skin as thick as leather. The last thing a person wanted to do was attempt to get under it. Cassidy had. And I didn’t like that one bit.

  “You gonna leave me hanging?” Denver asked, his arm still outstretched and waiting. The unease of his body likely meant he thought I had a problem with his sexual orientation, and that simply wasn’t cool.

  “Nope,” I said, taking his hand with a firm grip. “No worries. I’ve got you.” And I meant it.

  Whatever the issue with the she-devil who’d managed to derail my life from the track I’d been chugging down, it could wait. In the meantime, I wasn’t going to take a chance on Denver changing his mind to go with someone else, even if it was like taking another dude’s—or woman’s—sloppy leftovers. So I got my shit together long enough to get the contract signed and wrapped things up here.

  My next order of business was to make a stop at Striker to show Cassidy Whalen that Detroit side of me she’d never seen before. My Justin Timberlake was about to shed the suit and tie to get his Marshall Mathers on. As much as I’d tried to bury those instincts and pretend I’d been tamed, there was only so much poking and prodding a person could take before the beast got loose. She wanted to play God with my life? Well, I was going to show her the devil.

  Stepping off the elevator at the office, I found the place looking more like a ghost town than the thriving hub of activity it normally was. A quick glance at my watch told me why. I’d been so distracted by my thirst for revenge that I hadn’t even noticed the time. Everyone was gone for the day, but if I knew Cassidy Whalen, she was probably still here. Stalking her next victim, I was sure. So I made a hard right and headed in that direction, only to find her suite dark and just as empty as the rest of the place.