Page 2 of Never In My Wildest Dreams

But that was what made him a great negotiator. He’d taught Booker to do the same thing. “He almost got kicked off the team because he couldn’t pass the drug test.”

Still, not a single muscle twitched on his boss’s face.

“The dollars are good, but I can’t shake the fact that Boston’s wrong for Ginty. His family’s going to bring down his performance and his career.” He watched the tension in his boss’s features harden, his lips pulled into a taut line. “It’ll end up bad for him—and us.”

“Fuck his family. Time kills deals. Close it right now.”

You’d think I’d be used to it now. The way Marcus could take him out for dinner, fill him with brilliant advice, treat him like a son, and then in the office, turn brutal.

His boss ran the largest sports agency in the world. He had to think about the bottom line. But underneath that, at his core, he was a good man. He would play devil’s advocate, and that was what Booker needed to help him see this situation clearly.

He knew without a doubt if he closed this deal, they’d make him a partner. And he wanted it so badly it consumed him. In a shop like this one, with literally hundreds of agents, it was like winning the lottery.

He wanted it, but… He shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “It’s a good deal, but we shouldn’t ignore this issue.” The older man radiated a force—an insistence—that made it difficult to hold on to his train of thought, so he turned away. He needed space to think this through.

“His personal issues don’t come into play when we’re negotiating a contract. He didn’t choose our agency because he was looking for a father or a priest. He signed with us to get him the best deals. Which you’ve done.”

Booker wanted the partnership. Of course, he did. But not at Ginty’s expense. “You remember his mom’s hit-and-run?” Not only had she stolen her son’s car, but she’d hit a kid on a bike. “Gintygot arrested. His dad uses him like an ATM.” The more he recounted, the more confident he became.

“Booker.” Finally, his boss’s tone softened.

See? He’s a good guy. He gets it.

“I appreciate your concerns.” The man came around the desk. “But this is not your decision to make. Our job—our obligation—is to secure the best deals for our clients. You’ve done that.”

Booker bristled. “My job is to be his adviser. We help manage our clients’ careers.” He didn’t want to give up a deal this good, but he knew right from wrong, and if Ginty asked for his opinion, he had to give it.

“I hear you,” Marcus said. “I get your concerns. But at the end of the day, our clients hire us to get them the best contracts and the best endorsements. And Ginty? This is probably his last one. You know better than anyone the dangers of hockey. He could be off the ice tomorrow. The best thing you can do for him is to make sure he’s financially secure.” His big hand cupped Booker’s shoulder. “And that’s what you’ve done. Now, get him on the phone and tell him about the deal. I want his signature on that contract by noon.”

Phone still in his hand, Booker glanced down at Ginty’s name on the screen. “I’m going to let him know about the deal.” And then, he looked his boss in the eyes. “But if he asks my advice, I’m going to give him my honest opinion. Because I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do that.”

His boss’s spine went ramrod straight. “You do that, and I’ll fire you.” And with that, he strode out of his office—leaving a chaotic energy that had Booker’s head spinning.

He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t. He’d been Booker’s mentor from that first interview.

Would he do it though? Would he actually fire me?

Automatically, he skimmed his contacts and found his dad’s number.

But one second later, reality slammed into him.

Dad’s gone.

I can’t talk to him.

I can’t get his advice.

His stomach plummeted, and his heart squeezed so hard it hurt. It never got easier. His dad had been gone years now, and he was still the first person Booker wanted to talk to. And every time he remembered the loss, the hurt nearly dropped him to his knees.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes. In that moment, he could see his dad’s ruddy cheeks, that gentle smile. And he knew exactly what advice he’d give.

Can you live with yourself if you lie to Ginty just to get that corner office?

That was all it took for the uneasy feeling to go away.

No. I can’t.

Pulling up Ginty’s number again, he hit Call. As he waited for his client to answer, his stomach churned, and his heart raced.I’ll fire you. Marcus had never talked to him like that.

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