Big Time: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by KB Winters

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I said, grinding my teeth together.

  My driver pulled up and I told him to take me home, where I’d spent the rest of the night toggling between thoughts of Livvie and wondering how in the fuck I was going to get my ass free of my mother’s trap.

  Chapter Two — Livvie

  It was time to come clean. I’d been queasy all morning, anticipating the afternoon meeting with my two employees, Mitch and Kaylee, but the moment of truth had finally arrived and I knew there was no other way out.

  My fledgling entertainment management business still didn’t have an office space, so I sent out emergency SOS texts to hold the meeting in the middle of Cups, a local twenty-four hour coffee shop.

  “Hey, Livvie!” Kaylee called out, flagging me down to join her and Mitch at a small table tucked away in the corner.

  Good. Less witnesses to watch the impending train wreck, I thought, as I snaked through the shop to join them.

  I sat down and flipped my legal pad to the page bookmarked by a sticky note, where I’d made an outline of my eulogy speech that would pay honor to the death that was minutes away from happening.

  The death to Conquer Entertainment, that was.

  “Thanks for meeting me, guys. I know school is nuts this time of year,” I started.

  Mitch and Kaylee were both in their senior year at the university. I’d met them when I was still in school—we’d all shared the same business accounting class. I was in the beginning phase of applying for a business license and getting my seed money patched together. They’d both been taken by my vision and agreed to team up with me. I wasn’t able to pay them very much, but they’d helped me tons with the few hours I could afford.

  “It’s not so bad,” Kaylee said, waving off my concern. “Any luck at the clubs last weekend?”

  I was about to answer her, but when I looked down at the table, preparing to launch into my speech, my eye caught on something that momentarily rendered me speechless.

  I grabbed her hand and held it like it was pinned in a vice between my two hands. “Uhm…is that what I think it is?” I gawked at the dainty, diamond ring on her all-important finger.

  I looked up and both she and Mitch were beaming at me.

  “We’re engaged!” Kaylee squealed while Mitch stared at her like she was a direct shipment from heaven.

  If they weren’t good friends of mine, I would’ve been nauseated by all the gushing.

  “Wow! Congrats, you two. I didn’t even realize things were that serious,” I said, trying my best not to stutter.

  “Well, they are now,” Kaylee said with a laugh. “We really have you to thank, you know.”

  Oh, great. Now I was Cupid.

  Well, maybe I could look into matchmaking, since the entertainment thing was rapidly circling the drain.

  Oh, shit. I couldn’t tell them the real reason for the meeting now. I couldn’t pop their newly engaged bubble with the total downer that the company was failing.

  “What’s wrong?” Mitch asked, ripping his eyes off his glowing fiancée long enough to sense my distress.

  I chewed on the tip of my pen, my eyes flicking between them.

  “Livvie? What’s going on?” Kaylee asked, tucking her bejeweled hand back to her lap.

  I sighed and tossed the pen down. “Well, I feel like a total piece of shit for the timing on this, but the reason I needed to meet with you guys is to tell you that I’m going to have to shut down the company. Sooner, rather than later.”

  There it was. Out there. Ka-boom, right on the happy couple.

  Kaylee and Mitch both exchanged horror-stricken glances before turning their attention back to me.

  “So…would now be a bad time to tell you that the guys from Downside called over the weekend and they want to hire us to represent them?” Mitch asked.

  “Wait! What?” I’d just taken a sip of coffee and it nearly shot out my nose at the question.

  Downside was one of the biggest bands currently doing the club circuit. I’d always assumed they’d already had a manager since they seemed to nab the best time slots and venues every weekend. What would they possibly need us…me…for?

  “Yeah,” Mitch said, his smile returning. “The lead singer, Darrel, called my cell and said they’re looking for a new manager and they heard about you from Klang.”

  “Wow. That’s insane.” My brain was already recalculating the figures on my paperwork. There had to be a solution. A way to swing it so we could stay open. A band like Downside could change everything!

  Then it hit me. The real problem wasn’t a lack of funding. Well, okay, yes it was. But an even bigger problem was the fact that I’d lost Remy, and with no Remy there would be no sweet hookups. I’d just barely started cultivating a network of my own and while it was growing steadily, I was so not prepared to help a band like Downside. They’d probably already played the venues I had access to over a hundred times.

  They would so not be impressed by my credentials.

  “So, what do you think?” Kaylee asked me. “Could that be enough to save us?”

  “I don’t know. What do we really have to offer them?” It was a legitimate question. I was rapidly circling through my own internal address book trying to figure it out myself.

  “Well, isn’t that what that one guy you talked to going to help with?” Mitch ventured. “What happened to that?”

  The mention of Remy made me happy, sad, frustrated, confused….and slightly horny…all at once.

  It had been nearly a month since he’d stood me up at the bar. I hadn’t heard a peep from him since and figured he was up to his eyeballs in mommy issues, so I hadn’t bothered trying to track him down. I was fairly certain our paths would cross again someday, and had mentally prepared a colorful speech to fire off when that time came.

  The thing was, I’d let him into more than just my pants. For the first time in a long time, I’d exposed my dreams and business plans. I’d told him about my childhood and the deep-rooted reasons for why I needed and wanted my business to succeed. So, the fact that he’d absorbed all of that and just walked away, without even an attempt at a valid excuse, was more than I could fathom.

  “That deal fell through,” I said. My tone was cut and dried, even though in reality there was nothing simple or straight forward about what had happened. All I could do was hope they wouldn’t push for more information. Because honestly, I had nothing more to give them.

  Kaylee looked down at the table top, as if she silently understood. Mitch just stared at me as though trying to figure out which question to ask first.

  I held up a hand before he could get one out. “It’s complicated. So, let’s just move on.”

  Mitch and Kaylee agreed and we spent the next two hours hogging the corner table while we tried to work and rework our budget and business plan to accommodate the new band, knowing it was our last chance. Our only chance.

  ***

  By the time I was home again, sitting down to a pasta salad for one, I felt a little better. Mitch and Kaylee had helped me sort things out to the point where I could see straight again. We’d decided to take on Downside as a new client and see what would happen next. I knew they were very talented, and if we could get some leverage, we just might be able to springboard into the black.

  Without Remy’s help.

  I turned on the radio and let the music push all thoughts out of my mind as I settled onto the couch with my glass of wine.

  Tessa was gone for the evening, and I was silently thankful. She still hadn’t gotten over the whole fiasco at the charity dinner the night I’d met Remy and had been acting really bitchy and distant since then. I couldn’t understand why she was still bent out of shape. Less than a week later, she’d gotten hooked up to some new charity group and latched onto some new high society d-bag that gave her an all new connection to the backstage inner-workings of the lives of the privileged and ridiculously wealthy. When she wasn’t sitting around, mooning over the newest i
ssue of Vogue, she was gossiping about her new pack of so-called friends.

  Heaven help us all if she’d ever manage to marry one of these guys.

  The Real Housewives would have some stiff competition in the crazy department.

  I knocked back the rest of the glass of merlot and returned to the kitchen for a refill. My phone was on the counter, sitting next to the bottle of wine, and I couldn’t help but casually flick through the notifications, silently hoping one of them would be from Remy.

  I still didn’t have his new phone number and hadn’t stooped to asking Tessa to get it from her new man friend.

  The screen was blank. As always. I pushed the phone away and refilled my glass to the brim.

  Chapter Three — Remy

  Another Saturday night spent in hell.

  Or, at least, what I’d imagine hell would feel like. My mother had called mid-week and reminded me about some new, save the planet bullshit banquet that she was throwing at her estate. I knew with certainty that she’d never mentioned it before, but that was Madge’s way. She’d always had to fucking have the upper hand in every situation. And her constant reminders—where to be, where to go, how to act—was one of her standby tricks. She’d always played it off so perfectly, as though I was just some dumb fuck who couldn’t keep a schedule. Luckily, I’d caught onto it years ago and wasn’t worried that I was going senile at a very young age.

  Although, she’d probably love it if I was. Then I really could be the perfect, robotic son slash puppet that she seemed to want.

  I flashed my empty rocks glass at the bartender and he hurried to provide me with a refill.

  “Remington, our guests haven’t even arrived yet. You should save some of the whiskey for them.”

  I turned to face the cold voice. “Good evening, Mother. That reminds me, where are all the guests? You told me the event was to begin at six sharp.”

  I made a big display of pushing back my jacket sleeve to consult my three hundred thousand dollar watch—and to remind Madge I was still my own man. She hated my sleeve of tattoos and I loved to rub them in her face.

  “It’s nearly half past six. Don’t you find it rude when people don’t show up on time?” I asked, beginning to see a new game at play.

  Madge smiled, showing me her perfect, veneer-covered teeth. “Oh, darling, you’re so silly. The event doesn’t begin until seven. I needed you to be here on time. You do have an awful habit of being tardy.”

  If my blood wasn’t already on fire, it was now. Sadly, there were far too many witnesses for the things I would have liked to have said…and done…

  “Aha! Well, that’s actually perfect. That gives us some alone time,” I said, matching her purring tone.

  I offered her my arm and she took it with a flicker of a questioning look on her face, which was a small victory for me. I abandoned my fresh drink and started crossing the huge formal living room that was staged for the dinner.

  “It seems that all of my bank cards have been frozen,” I said, once we were out of the earshot of the caterers, waiters and party planner brigade.

  “How unfortunate, dear. Tell me, was it horribly embarrassing to have your cards declined?”

  Bitterness tore through me at her condescending tone. I clenched my teeth and tried to force a smile. “Mother, let’s not pretend you don’t know what’s going on. Tell me what you want this time.”

  “I’ve already given you my terms and conditions, Remington,” she replied, her tone so cool that it radiated like ice through my body.

  “I’m not seeing the girl you objected to. I’m sure JJ can back me up, or whoever it is you’ve had following me around.”

  I hadn’t been able to catch anyone in the act, but the vast amount of detailed information my mother possessed told me all I needed to know to reach the conclusion that she had hired someone to follow me. JJ was on her payroll, but I didn’t like to think it was him. I’d always counted him as a friend and the idea of him selling me out to Madge didn’t sit right.

  “I know that. But, that wasn’t my only request.”

  “Well, what do you expect, Mother? I’ve never really been the relationship type. If I’m going to be forced into picking just one girl to fuck for the rest of my life, it’s going to take me some time,” I said.

  “Remington!” Madge slapped my arm. “Is that any way to speak in my presence?”

  Oh, if she only knew the things I was holding back.

  “The point is, I’m working on it. So, you need to hold up your end of the bargain,” I replied, glossing over her scolding.

  “Don’t presume to tell me how to run my affairs, Remington. When the time is right, and I see the proper effort has been put in, I will release your funds,” she said.

  My hands turned into fists at her statement, but I knew it was no use. There was no point in continuing the conversation. She was digging in her heels and there was no way I’d be able to get her to budge.

  I clamped my teeth together and didn’t say anything else. She hurried away to tend to some catering emergency and with her off my arm, I stormed down the hall to one of the eight bathrooms on the first level of my childhood home.

  I locked myself inside and released a pent up howl of rage. I wanted to punch the antique mirror and watch it shatter, knowing it would crush her to have one of her antique pieces totally fucking thrashed, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  “I should just fucking leave,” I told myself, staring at my red-faced reflection in the mirror.

  I knew it wasn’t that simple. If I was smart—and I’d like to think I am—I’d stay and make some grand performance to sweep some random woman off her feet to show my mother—and more importantly, all her hoity-toity friends—that Remy was finally settling down.

  The idea made me sick. But then again, so did going broke.

  ***

  By the time I’d walked out of the bathroom and made my way back to the formal living room, the ambiance of the whole room had completely changed. People had finally filtered in and were spilling out into the kitchen and the back patio. The sounds of loud, fake, cascading laughter rang out from different points in the lower level of the house, and gave me the effect of nails running down a chalkboard. I needed to get out. Fast.

  My eyes shot to where my mother was holding court out on the patio. Her face was frozen with a smile that was almost convincing as she carried on with her little pack of socialites.

  I turned away and made a beeline for the bar. I was going to need a lot more alcohol inside me if I was going to go through the motions the rest of the night. Hell, the bartender should just turn over the bottle to my care.

  I’d make sure that every last drop found a good home.

  “Good evening, Remy,” a voice called from behind me.

  I turned to look over my shoulder and saw Christopher Diaz walking my way. He had a brunette girl in a very low-cut dress clinging to his arm.

  “Evening,” I replied, trying not to visibly grimace at his arrival. Instead, I gave him and his date a curt nod before throwing back the rest of my drink.

  The girl on his arm looked familiar but I wasn’t sure why. I ordered another drink and guessed that I’d probably fucked her at some point in my life. It was a somewhat inevitable occurrence within the high-rollers club. Christopher and I had gone to all of the same schools and had found ourselves at odds over females more than a few times. Nothing had ever turned into a fist fight, but the guy still ruffled my feathers. And tonight, I was in no mood for his smack talk and puffy ego indulgence.

  “This is Tessa,” he said. The fact that he hadn’t provided a last name meant she wasn’t from our circle. I wondered why he’d brought her at all. She was pretty, but nothing over the top like his normal dates. Christopher wasn’t happy until he had a supermodel on one arm and some b-list actress giving him a blow job under the table.

  “Remington, or just Remy,” I said. “Would you like a drink?”

  “I think I can take
care of her,” Christopher interrupted, pulling the girl closer to him. The girl looked up at him with a smile that could only be described as sickening, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she’d just been turned into a piece of Christopher’s property.

  I shrugged. “No disrespect intended.”

  Christopher was a hothead and I didn’t need his fucked up attitude tonight.

  “Remy…hmmm...do you know Olivia Sanders?” the girl asked after another awkward beat of silence.

  The name sent my heart on a high-speed chase. I looked at the girl, Tessa, and then I remembered where I’d seen her before. She’d been at the charity dinner the night I’d met Livvie. She’d been with a different guy that night.

  Man, this one was really working the circuit.

  “Livvie? Sure. We hung out a few times. You?”

  Tessa smiled. “Yeah. She’s my roommate, actually.”

  My hands felt slick on the cup, suddenly coated in sweat. “Nice. Well, tell her I said hi.”

  I hoped she didn’t. I was sure that by now, Livvie considered me public enemy numero uno, and she probably wouldn’t appreciate the shout out.

  Tessa nodded. “She’s doing really well, you know. In fact, she just signed a huge new client.”

  I smiled, genuinely for the first time all night. “That’s great. I’m really happy for her.”

  “Wait, is that the one who does entertainment stuff?” Christopher asked, butting back into the conversation after downing his own drink.

  “Mmm-hmm,” Tessa answered.

  “Who’s the client?” Christopher pressed.

  I stared at him, trying to figure out why he was suddenly so interested in Livvie. I knew it was ridiculous, but an edge of jealousy was creeping in.

  Tessa looked like she was starting to get bored with the conversation. She took a long, drawn-out pause before answering. “They’re called down something. Downside or maybe The Downside. I can’t remember, but she’s pretty excited about it.”

  “What? Are you serious?” Christopher said under his breath. He released his hold on Tessa and yanked his phone out of his pocket and started typing furiously on the screen.