Page 6 of The Fantasy League
Fuck it.
“Mr. Abbott.” John flashed his biggest sponsor smile at me as we exchanged handshakes. “Congrats on the big win last season, man! How has the off-season been treating you?”
“Doing well. Working hard. We’ve got to put in the work now if we’re going to be back-to-back League Bowl champs, don’t we?” Both men chuckled loudly as they shared their agreements. “You men mind if I steal Miss Sterling from you for a moment?”
“By all means,” they both replied in unison, and we exchanged parting handshakes paired with empty promises to stay in touch.
“I thought we were friends, Lea,” I huffed, turning to face her as we stopped in our tracks once we were out of earshot of John and whatever the other guy’s name was. “Yet, the conversation I just had with your dad tells me otherwise. You told him I need a fuckinggirlfriend?”
“Abel, you haven’t gone on a single date since I met you… almost six years ago.” She let out an exasperated sigh as she began walking down the corridor, her heels clanking loudly against the marble floor with each step. Clearly not giving me a choice but to follow, I caught up and walked alongside her down the hallway. “Look, you follow three women on your social media accounts. One is your mother, and the other is your personal chef’s blog account. Not to mention the fact that the tabloids are having a field day with this ‘unattainable bachelor’ headline again after that video of you walking off the field alone after the League Bowl win went viral.”
“I’m not seeing your point here.”
She paused to look at me, keeping a firm gaze that made my skin crawl. “It doesn’t look good for you, Abel. Just like you need the players on the field in sync to win games, I need this team’s reputation in sync to win sponsors.” Picking up the pace again, she kept her head positioned forward, looking away from me as the next words slipped from her lips with the traitorous ease of a serpent. “If I read the fine print correctly, which I always do, I’m pretty sure that hundred-million-dollar extension only matters if you’re on the active roster. It would be difficult to play with a broken leg, wouldn’t it?”
“What the—”
She tripped me. She fucking tripped me.
I stumbled at her attempt to humble me but made a smooth recovery as I regained my balance. The conniving smirk on Lea’s face unnerved me.
“Listen, Abel. I don’t care if you get a real girlfriend or a fake one. Honestly, as long as you look like you’re in love and keep your reputation intact, I couldn’t care less how you go about it. Any questions, comments, or concerns?” she said sternly, cocking an eyebrow at me.
“Someone is feisty this morning, damn.” I poked my elbow at her side and gave her a sly smile to try and win my way back to her good side. Though knowing Lea, she could probably see right through my ploy.
One thing about Lea Sterling was that she was a master manipulator. If anyone was born to be a publicist, it was her. The only person that could possibly scare her in this world was her father, and even that was questionable.
She might have put the fear of God in me a handful of times, but she’d become a damn good friend over the last six years. And she’d saved my ass on more than one occasion.
“Fake girlfriend, huh?” I squinted. “Might not be a half-bad idea, Miss Sterling.” I shot her a wink that she didn’t appear to be amused by.
“Call me Miss Sterling again and I’ll rip your dick off and feed it to you whole. Don’t try me, Abbott.” Her tone was dark and serious which only made me wince more at the mental image.
“Noted.”
I brought two fingers to my forehead and gave her a farewell salute as we reached the exit of the training facility that led to the player’s parking lot. How I hadn’t noticed that she was walking us—or should I say me—to the exit was beyond me.
I could’ve spent an eternity racking my brain around how subtly she could control a situation, but I had more important things to worry about. Like appeasing Coach and the PR team by finding a fucking girlfriend.
Brushing off the thought for a moment, I reached for the door handle of my SUV and slid into the leather driver’s seat. I turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared as I backed out of my spot and made my way out of the lot.
My track record with previous girlfriends wasn’t great and Lea’s idea of finding a pretend one wouldn’t be a bad idea… if I knew where to find one.
My phone pinged from the passenger seat with a new text as I reached the first stoplight. Picking it up, I took a quick glance at it.
Aera:We need to talk. Call me when you get this.
Immediately dismissing her notification, I tossed my phone into the back seat, where it would stay for the rest of the car ride. I started to make a mental note to text her back later, but she and I both knew that I wouldn’t.
I didn’t have time for Aera’s shit right now. I needed to focus on how I was going to convince Scarlett to go out with me. And more importantly, how I was going to cope if she rejected me.
When Scarlett first started working for me eight months ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to ask her on a date. If I was being honest, that was most of the reason I’d asked her to come work with me. But with how I’ve acted toward her, I doubt she would be up for it.
Her first two weeks working for me, I fucked up… royally.
It all started when she arrived for her first day of work and I gave her the most awkward kitchen tour in the history of kitchen tours. Had a camera crew from one of those home renovation channels been around, they would have fucking laughed in my face.
I blamed those big brown eyes of hers for incapacitating my brain.
