Page 74 of The Confidentiality Clause
“Me too.”
I don’t know that I’ve ever hoped for anything more.
Chapter thirty-three
Brock Jones
“The man of the hour,” Slater says as I walk into his penthouse overlooking the upper east side. After an impromptu invite, I jumped on a plane from LA to New York. Slater always has incredible connections. The opportunity was too good to pass up. And the great part is, it’s only a two-hour flight to Charlotte. I’ll make it back in time for the gala, just like I told Ariel over text this morning. The best of both worlds.
“It’s good to see you again,” I say with a smile, and take a drink he holds out for me. I don’t plan on having a single sip. I can barely keep my eyes open as is, much less if I added alcohol to my system.
“I’m glad you could make it. I know you’re a busy man. The way you handled Vinny’s situation was impressive.”
I dip my chin. “Thanks, that means a lot coming from you.”
He grins. “You flatter me.” His large hand gestures to a group of tall, athletic looking guys gathered across the room. “I’ve gotsome people I want you to meet. You know how I represent Lionel Cartwright?”
I nod. He’s a Hall of Fame quarterback, now retired, but still in plenty of commercials and brand deals. His name is known by everyone–even people who hate football know him.
“Well, you know his son plays too. He’s gearing up to be drafted next year, and his dad wants him to have the best agent out there. Lionel suggested me, but the kid wants someone younger. I say age brings wisdom, but–” He shrugs. “He wants someone fresher. I suggested you. That’s why I invited you here, to meet him.”
My eyes widen. To work with the son of a legend like Lionel is huge. It’s guaranteeing an elite lineup of brands who would want to work with both of them.
Slater chuckles. “Seeing the dollar signs, aren’t you?” He smacks my shoulder, then squeezes it. “This is just the beginning if you keep it up, kid. Soon you’ll have so much money you won’t even know what to do with it.”
A tall, wispy redhead walks over to us, a half-drunk glass of rosé in her right hand. She looks around my age, maybe younger.
“This is where I’ve been throwing my money lately,” he says with a grin that sours my stomach. “Londyn, baby, have you met my friend Brock Jones? He’s an agent too.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say and reluctantly stick my hand out.
She takes my hand, but instead of shaking it, she holds it while pressing a kiss to my cheek.
“The pleasure is all mine.”
She lingers too long for my liking. I take a step back, but she doesn’t seem to care. Her attention shifts to Slater. A sultry smile stretches her painted pink lips.
“My love, are you okay if I slip out for just a moment? A few friends of mine are in town, and they want to meet at Pulse for drinks.”
Slater waves her away. “Go, have fun. You’re probably intimidating the wives here anyway.”
She giggles, but it sounds performative. I grip the glass in my hand. I don’t know how much longer I can stomach this. She steps away, but Slater stops her. He bends down and kisses her cheek, before holding out a black credit card. She giggles some more, thanks him, then floats toward the door.
“I thought you said you were quitting women for a while,” I say in a tight voice.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about her. We both know what kind of arrangement this is. She doesn’t want to control me, or be controlled. It’s the perfect solution if I can resist putting a ring on her dainty little hand.” He throws back his drink. “Now, are you ready to meet Lionel Jr.?”
I swallow down the bile in my throat. “Yeah, let’s do this.”
A while later, I’ve all but got a signed contract for Lionel Jr. We’re laughing on the balcony while Lionel Sr. and Slater puff smoke from big cigars. Once Londyn was gone, Slater turned into his normal self again. He charmed both father and son, while talking me up just the right amount. It’s been a great night, and I’m once again glad I came.
“You sure you don’t want a cigar, Jones?” Lionel asks with a grin. “These are the finest money can buy.”
I hold my hand up. “You enjoy them. I’m afraid they tend to turn me green.”
He chuckles, and smoke leaks from his mouth. As I lower my hand, my watch glints in the light. I check it and my stomach drops. The laughter and conversation mute. Everything slows when I see how much time I’ve spent here.
“I have to go,” I blurt out. All eyes rest on me. I clear my throat. “I’m sorry to cut things short, gentlemen, but I have a prior engagement. I’m looking forward to doing business together in the future though.” I lift my still-full glass.
