glass and stretched her neck. “I argued that all the players should be featured.” She nudged her chin at Reese, earning a frown from the woman before she hurried to explain. “Turnabout is fair play. They wanted hot football players, and here we are.” She waved her glass at Reese, coming to sit across from the kicker on a small ottoman Reese’s sister-in-law had given her for a housewarming. It was designer, a name Reese had never heard but was assured was very important.
“I wouldn’t have done it,” Reese said, throwing her legs over the arm of her plush, upholstered chair. The headline had been more insulting than the picture. ‘Real Woman?’ it read. The second she read it, Reese’s stomach twisted with worry, and her face had flushed crimson.
“Why not?” Cat asked, downing the rest of her glass. Reese liked Gia’s assistant. She’d helped her move in and get settled. She’d become a Netflix watching-buddy and knew all the best bars in New Orleans. Even if Reese wasn’t a Steamer, Cat probably had enough clout to get them into any restaurant or club.
“Because it’s hard enough doing this job not having a penis and all. Not many fans, or players for that matter, think I can do what I’m supposed to.” She leaned her head back, moving it against the headrest. “Adding me, all half-naked and smiling at the camera would only make them think it’s okay to treat me like shit.” She spun around, finishing her glass, and set the empty on the small wooden table in front of her. “Besides, do you know what my parents would do if I did something like that? Ay dios, I’d be dead.”
“But your parents aren’t here,” Gia offered, smiling behind her glass as she watched Reese. “It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, and so what if everyone thinks you can’t do your job? You’ve already proven you can.” She stood, her eyes taking on a glint that made Reese nervous. “And they’re all gonna treat you like shit regardless of what you do.” She came to Reese’s chair, full lips stretched across her perfect teeth as she smiled.
“Ay, no…” Reese said, sitting up straight when her manager’s smile became a wicked smirk. “What are you plotting?”
She ignored her and shot a look right at Cat. “Your cousin still in town?”
Cat nodded, abandoning her seat to stand, her own smile growing. “Match isn’t for another three days. He’s here through the week. Why?” Then she blinked, eyelashes fanning as she looked between Gia and Reese. “You’re remembering that favor Lennox Murry owes him, aren’t you?”
Gia nodded, bouncing a little on her feet and Cat joined her.
“And that was a big fucking favor.”
Cat nodded, agreeing. “Pretty sure Murry would do it, favor or not.”
“Do what?” Reese asked, stomach twisting when Gia’s expression shifted, and she stood next to Cat, fingers across her lips as she looked down at Reese. What the hell did the top ranking UFC fighter have to do with the shit article that got written about Reese?
“What do you think?” Gia asked, walking to Reese and pulling her to stand.
Cat tilted her head, giving the kicker a close once-over that made her feel like something on a rack that Cat wanted to drape over her thin body. The woman moved Reese’s chin, side to side, then nodded. “We’ll have to do something about her eyebrows.”
“Whose eyebrows?” Reese asked, slapping Cat’s hand from her face. Both women examined Reese, circling her like she was an alien creature no one had ever seen before.
“And the split ends,” Cat offered, tugging on Reese’s long hair.
“Ay, mierda, what are you two talking about?”
Gia stopped, turning Reese by the shoulder. “You, Miss Noble, are about to have your privacy violated for all the best reasons.”
“What reasons are those?” That ache in Reese’s stomach knotted tighter, and she stepped out of Gia’s touch, knowing that the look her manager gave her was something that would lead to either one of two very bad things: the world paying more attention to Reese, or her life becoming something that wasn’t hers anymore.
REESE HATED the shock rock assholes that filled up her car speakers as she drove around the city. The two currently blabbering about shit she wasn’t paying attention to, Billy and Bud, were especially pieces of work who never had a decent thing filtering from their mouths. But Reese’s focus was on the over-full bottle of water between her knees and her chirping cell