with Mr. Hawthorne.”
He wouldn’t dare.
The staff and league reps leaned in. I gritted my teeth.
“I don’t see how it’s relevant,” I said.
“Well, you could certainly give us insight into his character. And his home. His interests. His bed.”
“That’s enough,” I said. “I am acting as Mr. Hawthorne’s agent.”
“No. You’re acting like his whore.”
I didn’t have a chance to get outraged.
Cole leapt to his feet. I didn’t need his brand of heroism. He wasn’t a knight in shining armor. Cole was the dragon, and he’d burn through any son of a bitch who dared to insult or hurt what was his.
Including my own father.
His chair slammed into the wall and shattered. The coaches and management stood, retreating from the table, but I jumped between Cole and the others.
“Stop!” I pushed against his chest. It was useless, but at least he’d have to go through me to get to them. “Cole!”
I was five feet of nothing against a monster of muscle and spitting rage. But he would listen to me.
I’d make him listen.
“Just go!” I shouted. “Wait outside! Cole!”
Cole pointed at my father. “What did you say to her, you son of a bitch?”
Dad had panicked, but he stared at me, eyes-wide. “You let this man near my granddaughter?”
Cole snarled. “You actually give a damn about your granddaughter? You fired your daughter and left both of them on the fucking street?”
Sweat prickled my brow, and a chill shredded me. I pushed Cole back, but preventing him from flipping the table didn’t help our case.
Or me.
Or either of our reputations.
“Stop it! Both of you!”
Dad and Cole silenced. I faced the other men in the room and pointed to their chairs.
“You all, sit.” I grabbed Cole’s suit jacket and tugged. “Get in the hall and calm down. Now.”
“I’m not gonna let anyone talk to you like that—”
“You don’t speak for me, Cole. I speak for you.” I lowered my voice to a razor’s edge. “Get out of here or, so help me God, you can defend yourself.”
A still moment suffocated me in panic, but Cole eventually pushed away from the table. The conference door slammed behind him, shaking the walls. The water and coffee had overturned, but I left the mess for the coaches to handle.
I faced the league management and president, humiliated and unraveled.
And I hated that moment of uncertainty that stole my voice.
But these were men I’d never cared to talk to or about until the day Dad brought me to work at his agency. Maybe I wasn’t an agent. Maybe it was wrong to sleep with my client. Maybe I was underqualified to scout for new talent on the field.
But I was smart enough to defend Cole.
It didn’t matter if it was French literature, raising a baby, or researching precedent in the league, I learned how to succeed on my own. Maybe I couldn’t tell the difference between pass interference and defensive holding, but I could read a contract. I could negotiate terms, and I could represent both me and Cole with the professionalism we deserved.
And I was damn tired of people telling me otherwise.
This was my job. And this was how I’d take care of myself and Rose.
I ignored their curious, invasive stares and crashed my tote bag onto the table. They flinched. Good. I handed out pamphlets, binders, and copied pages from the league’s own rulebook. The presentation was organized and labeled with intricate care.
I never got to deliver a doctoral thesis, but today I’d give them a defense of the indefensible.
“If you open your handouts to page one, you will see a detailed outline of what I will present to you gentlemen today—beginning with the past precedents on unsportsmanlike behavior and unnecessary roughness. We’ll then lead into references on what constitutes clean and legal hits, cross-referenced with citations of other fines and penalties levied on players in the league within the past ten years.”
Frank Bennett exhaled, his stare burning through me. “You’ll fight my ruling?”
“Through every available appeals court.”
“Even though you’d lose?”
“I’d do it for the publicity, Mr. Bennett. You don’t want the league to single out one of the greatest defensive players in the game. Work with him instead. Let him be a model for other players and an example of reform, so children and fans can root for someone trying to change their life.”
“And how do you propose doing that?”
“Not expelling him for starters.”
“You’ll have to work harder for that.”
“You offer substance abuse rehab for players involved with drugs. Let’s start Mr. Hawthorne on anger management