Page 92 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
And, of course, Luanne knew everything. He’d be a fool to think Augie hadn’t mentioned the whole insane story to the woman. Then again, she’d probably seen the vibrator encounter. Most of the human race and a decent number of astronauts had viewed the viral video.
It was time to move on.
With the introductions made and no one dropping any vibrator talk, he turned to Augie. “What’s going on out there? Did Briggs tell you to be here for a PR thing?”
Aug and Luanne had left for his place in Aspen a few days ago, leaving him to train alone in Denver. The two hadn’t spoken in a few days. Still, the man hadn’t mentioned anything about coming to Rickety Rock today.
“Are you not reading those emails from Briggsy?” Aug huffed. “Why am I not surprised? It’s like you’ve been on another planet this past week,” the man shot back when, speak of the posh devil, Briggs Keaton sprinted up the stairs, mobile in hand.
“The mountain air is quite invigorating,” Briggs announced, sporting the least-mountainy outfit in his trademark three-piece suit as he surveyed the group. “Excellent, you’re looking terrific, champ. Aug, you don’t mind sitting this one out, do you?”
“I do not,” the trainer answered.
“And, Libby,” the agent continued, his attention bobbing between the nanny and his mobile. “It’s so good to see you. There’s already chatter, thanks to Sebastian, here. Social media is blowing up after only a few minutes.”
Social media’s blowing up?
He better not be trending because his son blurted out his dad was a bloody car farter!
“What do you mean? We just got here,” Libby asked, confusion marring her expression.
“It’s about you, Miss Lamb. Let’s walk and talk,” Briggs said, gesturing for the group to head downstairs.
Sebastian was the first to hit the steps, followed by Luanne and Augie, but Raz hung back to keep an eye on his agent. The man was ogling Libby like she was made of money. Granted, as a sports agent, Briggs’s job was to make deals and rake in the cash. He gave the guy a fair share of shit, but Briggs Keaton was good at what he did. Nevertheless, when it came to Libby, all he wanted to do was protect her from the glare of this world.
“Per my email,” Briggs began, “we’re here for a little meet and greet. The mountain west is excited to have a heavyweight champion training in their backyard. But the big names got wind of it and sent crews. You know how it goes.”
“I actually don’t know how it goes,” Libby replied, looking more and more anxious by the second as they gathered in the first-floor entryway.
Sebastian jumped up and down. “Just look outside. There are people everywhere. They left their cars on the road and walked up,” the boy called, hopping into the sitting area adjacent to the entry. The child plunked himself on the picture window bench and pressed his nose to the glass to peer out at the media circus.
“Sweet Buddha’s belly, that’s a lot of people,” Libby whispered, glancing out one of the windows near the front door.
“It’s an exciting time in the world of boxing,” Briggs began, sounding like a game show host. “The odds are in the Lion’s favor, but it’s very much in flux. Everyone’s scrutinizing this fight, looking for who to put their money on.”
“Money?” Libby breathed.
“Yeah, you know, online gambling and betting on the outcome. It’s part of the whole show. It’s a billion-dollar business,” the agent explained as he hammered out a text, oblivious that the color had drained from Libby’s face.
“What is it, plum?” he whispered.
“I absolutely loathe—”
“Sorry to cut you off, Libby,” Briggs said, nearly vibrating as he pocketed his mobile. “It’s go-time. ESPN and Box Nation arrived.” The sports agent fixed his gaze on the nanny. “Welcome to the big leagues, Miss Lamb.”
Bloody hell, what had Briggs done?
Fourteen
Erasmus
“What doyou mean ESPN and Box Nation arrived?” Raz hissed.
“What’s Box Nation?” Libby asked.
“They’re a boxing network that broadcasts in the UK,” he said, answering Libby’s question as he pinned Briggs with his gaze. It was one thing for Briggs to promise a meet and greet with him—he was the professional athlete. But throwing Libby into the fire was unacceptable. Major media outlets meant major, global coverage, and that came with brutal scrutiny. Sure, there was the damn viral video, but putting yourself out there to spar with the media was a whole different animal.
“This is too much, Briggs,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ll go out alone.”
