Page 23 of Turn Me On

That’s entirely too tempting. I survived a few daylight hours in Venice with him, but I don’t want to take chances with nighttime and alcohol.

“But we don’t have a deal yet,” I say, even as my heart rate speeds up as I picture seeing Zane.

“Who cares? Go to the game. Take him out. Let him know we give a shit about him. Wait! I know. Sebastian Lowe’s agent is hosting a little rooftop shindig over at Hotel M. Take him there. I’ll tell him to bring some of his teammates.”

A rooftop fête. Other people. That’s so much safer.

Still, my pulse thunders as I agree, racing when I hang up.

This is the problem—the way I react to him. I need to solve it before I see Zane tonight.

At the window, I stare at the courtyard below. Men and women in smart shirts and crisp slacks crisscross to the elegant restaurant in the center. Some of the sports and entertainment business’s biggest deals are made there over martinis and kale salads, hold the dressing.

That’s who I am. A dealmaker. An agentandan attorney. Not every agent is a lawyer. But if you are one, you have to follow the rules of the legal profession.

And attorneys don’t sleep with clients because it’s not fucking fair to the client. Undue influence and all. I won’t do that to Zane or to anyone else.

Every time I go into a meeting, I set my intentions. I’ll do the same for tonight.

Be the pro he needs. Focus on the deal. Treat him like a star.

That. Is. All.

Then, I text Bryan and tell him I have two tickets to the game tonight and he’s coming along.

Well, it’s best to show up with a friend. I don’t want anyone to think I have a thing for the first baseman—especially the first baseman himself.

4

SO AGENT-Y

Zane

I’m about to toss my phone into my stall before heading to the field for tonight’s game when it buzzes in my hand.

C’mon, be from Maddox.

Eagerly, I unlock it.

I’m still buzzed from Vance’s call a few minutes ago, telling me about the new sponsorship prospects. But I want to hear the deets from the man making things happen.

So when I swipe up and read his name, I feel like the universe is looking out for me.

Maddox:First baseline. Right behind the home team’s dugout. I’ll be here with my buddy, Bryan. He’s been staying with me for a few weeks. P.S. Hotel M for the rooftop pool party—it’s about twenty minutes from the ballpark. We can meet there later. You can bring a friend if you want.

For a hot second, I bristle over the mention of Maddox’s friend. But the last time Maddox used that word, he meant it precisely. Besides, being a jealous asshat is not a good look.

Zane:Hotel M? Sounds like one of your make-it-up on the fly brands. Does the M stand for Maddox?

Maddox:Hotel Maddox. If you know, you know.

Zane:Gee, I hope they let me in.

Maddox:I’ll make sure of it.

“Fuck yes,” I say, all kinds of excited that he’s here. I like having an audience when I play ball. I like it double when the audience includes the guy looking out for me.

Before I turn off my phone, I send a text to my brother in Sacramento.Hey! How’s everything with my favorite brother? Give my niece a hug from her favorite person in the world. P.S. Knock wood—good things are happening in my world.