No more sadness, no more fuck-ups, no more slips or falls. I got this.
The only thing is I don’t have this. We win the game, but just barely, and there’s no question I had nothing to do with that win. There’s no way Eddie didn’t notice. But maybe he’ll forget before the next season begins…
And there’s no way he doesn’t notice that I kick us right the hell out of the playoffs and ruin our chances for the Super Bowl. Goddammit.
There are always more parties, more women, more fun to be had. I can ramp that up now that our team is moving along to the next round.
And maybe I’ll blend into the background.
And forget, finally, about Renata.
CHAPTER FOUR
“You can’t expect me to work with Macklin Pride.” I try to keep my face calm as I look at my boss Rich, the man at the head of the agency. I’ve never refused to work with a client before, but the moment this one came across my desk, I started practicing my rejection speech.
Rich just looks at me like I have a horn growing directly from the center of my forehead.
It’s confusing, I admit. I’m sure a job working on the league’s most notorious linebacker would look good on my roster, not to mention my bank account.
Even if I’ve never shown my line to Rich before, well, I’ve got one. Its name is Macklin Pride. And I’ll be damned if I’m working with him.
I sit there, staring, reminding myself in my mind over and over again that no amount of money is worth working with that scumbag. I’ll pay off everything with my salary over time. It won’t be Macklin Pride’s money that does it.
Rich sighs and gives me an exasperated look. “Mack’s a good guy. Old Southern boy. He’s just a little... unusual as far as linebackers are concerned.” He looks up at me from his vintage wooden desk, probably a desk that used to sit in one of the great sports agent's offices from the 1970s. I’ve never asked because then Rich would tell me, and that would be boring.
“What you mean by unusual is that he’s a loud-mouthed smart-ass who throws big, stupid expensive parties and gets in trouble with football groupies not much more than half his age. Is that about right? Because everything I know about Big Mack leads me to believe he’s beyond my reach, and he’s not the type of gentleman I want to work with.”
“You once told me you’d work with O. J. Simpson if it paid enough,” Rich says.
I chew on my lip. I might have said that. And the case I took on last month with the baseball guy who liked young men from abroad—well, how was that different? It wasn’t. It’s Mack himself that’s different.
“Mack is where I draw the proverbial line, Richard. I don’t want to get involved in that Southern politics stuff when he’s getting his whole team wasted and encouraging barely legal beach bunnies to wrestle each other—”
Rich laughs, probably because he’s like every other man in this PR firm. He loves Macklin Pride because he’s the thing all these guys want to be—six foot six, a brick wall of muscle, a legend among the women both in town and out of it, and a young, shining star on the rise in the NFL. “He just needs a little bit of…rebranding,” Rich tells me. “The team owner is a more conservative type of fellow, and he’s not much for Mack’s parties. Or his girlfriends. Or really anything he does. He’s looking for a reason to get rid of Mack, and Mack won’t listen to any damn person who tells him that. He needs a good PR agent. A woman to set him straight.”
Instinctively, I put my hands on my hips. “A woman?”
Rich swivels in his chair nervously. It’s a tic he has when he really wants someone to do something for him. And right now, I’m that someone. “Yes, Renata. A woman. I’m not going to pretend that’s not a sexist thing to say, but can we both agree that football’s a sport that’s not exactly ahead of the times politically?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, fine. Granted. But I’m the best PR agent you have. You really expect me to go into a rickety-ass situation like this that’s doomed to failure? Mack Pride does whatever Mack Pride wants to do—that’s why he’s not listening to anyone. It’s clear he doesn’t give a happy damn about his job if he’s behaving the way he is when he knows he’s not supposed to. He’s on a downward trend. Most people can’t see it, but I sure as hell can. He’ll lose his job, and if I’m there when he does, everyone will look at me to blame.”
“He’s the best rising linebacker in the NFL right now.” Rich looks at me and slows down those last two words for extreme emphasis. Of course, I know what he’s saying is true. Mack’s always been a football legend, from the time he played in college until right up until this very moment. It doesn’t matter to any fan that he’s got a pile of women crawling on top of him every weekend—in fact, they like it. It only adds to Mack’s mystique. My gut twists at the thought—but I suppress the wave of nausea and anxiety rising in my body. “And you’re damn right he’s going to lose his job. With this season coming up too, well, I’d be surprised if his playing didn’t suffer like hell. He was on fire last year, but I hear he’s getting more and more out of hand. And you’re wrong if you think he won’t listen to you, Renata. Everyone listens to you. You walk into a room and people stop to see what you’re having for lunch. You’ve got that kind of voice. That presence.”