The Winner Takes All (Complete Collection)

4. So Agent-y

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.

Gage replies quickly with, Good things are always happening in your world. Can’t wait to hear more! P.S. I’m your only brother, knucklehead. And my kid loves me most!

Gunnar watches me as I put my phone in my stall before we head out of the locker room together. “You don’t need to take that with you to text your Tinder hookup between innings?”

I roll my eyes. “Dude that was my brother, and before him, my new agent. He’s coming to the game and wants to take me out tonight to a rooftop pool party,” I tell him. “Take us out, if you’re up for it. Figured we can grab a Lyft post game. It’s not too far away.”

Gunnar gives an I’m there shrug. “You had me at rooftop.”

The dude is an excellent plus one. He’s easygoing and a social cat. I clap him on the back as we walk down the corridor toward the field. “And now I know the way to shut down your trash talk is to mention rooftop, dance club, or sexy British accent . Your favorite things, right?”

Gunnar whips his head toward me, his blue eyes sparkling. “Wait. Is your new agent British?”

I straighten my shoulders, growl under my breath. “No, and keep your hands off him,” I say as we bound up the steps to the dugout.

“Oh, someone is claiming the hot new agent.”

I stop in my tracks. “Wait. Did I say you could come with me to the rooftop party? Turns out I don’t have a plus-one invite after all.”

“Guess I’ll crash the party, and everyone will receive me with open arms.”

“Except Maddox,” I mutter under my breath.

We hit the field, and when the lineup is announced, I turn to the first baseline, hunting for carved cheekbones, a strong jaw, dark and wavy hair. There he is, and, hell, he’s so damn beautiful I can barely stand it. His elegance, his polish, his presence…

I tear my gaze away before I get too distracted.

Next to him is a strapping dude with golden-blond hair. They’re drinking beers and laughing.

I wonder how he knows Bryan. If they’ve been friends for a while. Whether Bryan knows what happened between Maddox and me in an elevator.

And why I want his friend to know who I am.

Maybe because I’m still a little possessive of Maddox LeGrande even though he’s not mine and never will be.

But tonight, he’s here for me. And I’m going to play my ass off for my team, and…for him.

Close game but no cigar.

After nine tense innings, we walk off the diamond with a 2-1 loss.

That sucks. But what doesn’t suck is a swanky LA party.

Gunnar and I arrive at Hotel M, where a sexy energy oozes from the chichi hotel from the moment we step into the sleek lobby. The elevator lets us out on the sixth floor. Dance music floats through the air. A pool glitters in the middle of the rooftop patio. Gorgeous servers circulate with drinks, serving them to a crowd of starlets, influencers, artists, celebrity fitness instructors, actors, dealmakers and the like.

“Sweet,” Gunnar says approvingly. “Want to hit the bar, then check out all the hot dudes?”

“Nah,” I say.

I only want to find one hot dude.

Gunnar blinks. “Whoa. You feeling okay?”

I shoot him a look. “Yes. I am.”

“If you say so. You’re usually game for anything,” he says.

That’s been true. And since Gunnar came out as bi recently, he’s been enjoying the view when we go out. More power to him, and I love being his wingman. Especially since I love sex. But tonight, I’ve got business on my mind.

And…Maddox.

I scan the crowd for him. I need to get the lowdown on this potential deal with Bespoke. Vance only gave me the broad brushstrokes, and I’m hungry for all the details—the timeframe, the terms, what it means. Maddox will give them to me.

A hand touches my arm; my skin sizzles. I catch a hint of the scent of the ocean, and I draw an intoxicating breath. It’s uncanny how my body knows him when we’ve barely touched.

I turn to Maddox and beam, hoping to hide all these lusty, sexual, very non-business-y feelings for him with my excitement and gratitude. “You’re the man!”

He smiles but waves off the compliment. “Save the praise for when I lock this up.”

“I have a good feeling. Want to know why?”

“Sure.”

I lean in to share the secret. “I have this hotshot new agent.”

That earns me another smile. And hell, do I want to win those from him all night long. His smiles make my chest all warm. They make me want more and more of them.

But Maddox’s gaze drifts to Gunnar.

Oh, shit. I forgot my buddy.

Gunnar points to me. “Hey, there. I’m his chopped liver.”

Maddox stretches out a hand. “Gunnar Ford. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Maddox LeGrande with CTM.”

Gunnar raises a brow, clearly appreciating that Maddox recognizes him. “Nice to meet you too. Zane says good things about you.”

“Glad to hear that. I’m lucky to work with him. And I’m sure Josh Summers at Premiere considers himself lucky to work with you, Gunnar. You’re having a great season.”

My friend snaps an I’m impressed look my way. “Whoa. Your new agent knows everything,” he says.

Maddox laughs, like it’s no big deal. “Just part of the job to know who reps who. Let me get you men a drink. If you’d like one?”

“I’m game,” I say.

“Me too,” Gunnar chimes in.

“Where’s your friend? Did Bryan come along?”

Maddox waves in the direction of the pool. Moonlight glitters off the still water. In the corner, the golden-haired guy from earlier is sitting on a chaise lounge right next to a very familiar face.

Holy shit. I smack Maddox’s arm. “That’s Sebastian Lowe.”

Maddox smiles. “Yep. That is indeed the Oscar winner.”

“I thought his agent was throwing this party. I didn’t know he’d be here. Wait. Is Bryan his agent?”

Maddox shakes his head. “No. Bryan’s not an agent. He used to play ball though. Had a good run for a few years. Injury curtailed his career though.”

“Like Gage,” I say, wincing in sympathy.

“Exactly. He’s a home contractor now and loves it. But he coached for a while and has a great eye.”

“And he’s friends with Sebastian?”

“I suppose,” Maddox says, in a way that makes it clear that’s all he’ll say.

No big deal. It’s not my place to pry about Bryan and Sebastian. But it is my pleasure to gawk at the movie star. “That dude is badass. You know that one where he played the drug lord? Fucking love him,” I say.

“He’s the total package,” Gunnar seconds. Then he gestures to another rock star celeb who starred in the sexy TV show Unfinished Business . “There’s Ellie Snow. She’s hilarious, but I heard she’s doing more writing these days.”

Maddox smiles, a little proudly. “She is. She’s working some deals for TV shows she’s created.”

The actress is chatting with a handsome guy I don’t recognize, but she catches Maddox’s eye and waves.

He waves back, then says to me, “She’s a good friend. But I’ll catch up with her later. And while you stargaze, I’ll get some drinks,” Maddox says.

As soon as he heads off to the bar, Gunnar turns to me, eyebrows dancing. “You didn’t mention your agent is a smoke show.”

I smile like a cocky asshole. “My new agent is a smoke show.” Then I pause to recalibrate, because I’ve got nothing to be cocky about. “And completely off-limits.”

Here at this rooftop party after dark, with the low thump of music, the mingling of bodies, and a possible deal close at hand, I desperately need the reminder.

A little later, Gunnar runs into a buddy of his on the San Diego Devils, a burly guy who’s one of the toughest backstops in the league.

“Gonna grab a few words with Trace,” he says, then nods toward the guy.

I join them for a minute. “Looking forward to beating you in the division this year,” I say, introducing myself in our native language—smack talk.

“You’ll eat your words, Archer.”

“Bet they’ll taste good,” I say.

Gunnar rolls his eyes my way, then turns to Trace. “Did you ever get that new boat you were eyeing?”

“Nah. Gotta wait till I get some contract shit sorted out. But my agent’s been MIA too often,” Trace says, a little irked.

I smile privately. Mine’s not MIA. Mine’s easy to reach, and I love that.

“That’s no good,” Gunnar says. “If you switch and want an intro to Josh, hit me up.”

“Thanks, man,” the catcher says.

As they chat more about boats and agents, I say goodbye, then steal some time with Maddox. His mind must be in the same place, since I walk over to him right as he’s walking away from Sebastian and Bryan.

“Want a drink?” he asks.

“I do.”

Maddox heads to the bar, and I follow him. After he tips the bartender, Maddox hands me my drink, and then we move away from the sparkly crowd, heading toward a corner of the patio.

Now’s my chance to snag some deets. I feel like I’ve been waiting all week for them when it’s only been a few hours. “So, what’s next with Bespoke?” I ask as we stop at the rooftop’s edge, overlooking the city of angels. “I’m dying to know.”

“It’s early days. I’ll need to give them some time to weigh my pitch and make sure it fits with their goals, which I believe it does. But I plan to meet with them in London next week.”

“About this deal?” Ah, hell. Did my voice go up? Don’t want him to hear all my nerves.

But Maddox gives me a professional smile. “Yes. I’ll be traveling to London for meetings with the London office and some of our international partners. And as for Bespoke and Priyam, yes, I’m going to see him about you. You’re my sole focus with him.” He’s reassuring but a little cool and distant as he sips his club soda.

Maddox is so…agent-y tonight.

I get it. This is his job. And I want him to do his job, but he’s put a wall up since a few days ago in Venice. I suppose I need to follow his lead, so all business it is. “What sort of deal?” I ask. “Do you know? Vance didn’t give me any specifics. He just said something was in the works.”

That sparks Maddox’s attention. He finishes his club soda and sets the glass on the railing. “I can’t make any promises, but my hope, and the way I pitched it, is that you’ll be the leading face of the brand in all their digital campaigns—they only advertise digitally.”

“Cool, because what the hell else is there but digital?” I joke, totally not pleading with the universe to make this deal happen.

Maddox smiles but then looks away. “And Priyam and I looked at your pics on Insta,” he adds, surprising me. “The press shots. We talked about who you are—which I don’t entirely know yet but I’m learning—and I said you’re a good guy.”

“I am.” I certainly want him to see me that way. It feels vital for this next step in my career.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he turns to me again, pulling his gaze from the hills and locking his eyes with mine. “Good. Then we’re being honest.”

But have I been totally honest? I haven’t lied but I haven’t shared all my reasons for needing this to happen. Maybe it’d help him do his job. His business style is so forthright.

“So, the thing is?—”

But someone steps up to us just as I begin and, in a warm and friendly voice, tells Maddox, “Hey, I need to take off. I’ll see you back at your place.”

“Cool. Make sure to turn the floodlights off in the backyard,” Maddox says, then turns to me. “And Bryan, this is Zane Archer with the San Francisco Dragons. Zane, this is my buddy, Bryan. We went to college together.”

We shake. “Good to meet you, Bryan. We need to talk baseball sometime. But for now, I have a question about our buddy here,” I say, letting go to curl my hand around Maddox’s shoulder.

“Hit me up,” Bryan says amiably, and Maddox watches us closely, carefully.

“How many rules does he have in his house?” I ask. Bryan breaks into a grin as I continue, squeezing my agent’s shoulder. “Now I know about the floodlights, but I’m guessing, let’s see, no shoes on the hardwood floors, if you finish the oat milk, you need to replace it within twelve hours, and no matter what, no sleepovers without prior approval from Mr. LeGrande.”

The eye roll from Maddox is nothing short of epic. “I don’t forbid sleepovers,” he says.

“But everything else is true,” Bryan stage whispers.

I thrust my arms up in victory. “Called it! I knew he drank oat milk. Is his home super minimalist?”

“Monochrome as far as the eye can see and barely a thing in sight,” Bryan says, grinning.

Maddox clears his throat. “Maybe I will revise that no sleepovers rule.”

Bryan scoffs. “Nah. You’re not that cruel.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to side with Bryan on that one. No way would you do that,” I chime in.

Bryan grins, looking delighted, then says, “And on that note, I’m outta here. Good meeting you, Zane.”

“You too, Bryan.” Once he’s gone, I turn to Maddox. “Good guy.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“It’s fun seeing someone giving you a hard time. And it’s kind of like bumping into your teacher outside of school or your doctor at the supermarket.” I let myself tease him a little, thinking Bryan’s ribbing might have warmed Maddox up a bit.

“I sure hope you don’t think of me like a doctor or teacher.”

“You know what I mean. I’ve only seen your super-agent side.”

“That’s not true,” he says softly, before putting his professional mask on again. “You were about to say something? Before Bryan came over?”

I was, but he’s cool again so quickly, which worries me. “Are we good?” I ask, not bothering to mince words.

He blinks. “What? Yes. Why would you ask that?”

I don’t want to play games. “That night at dinner, you said I was a hard man to read. But that’s you tonight, Maddox LeGrande. You’ve become so…serious and polished.”

He swallows, nodding, seeming to take that in. When he speaks, his voice is lower—more vulnerable than I’ve heard him before. “I have to be…around you.”

My senses go on high alert. “Yeah?”

“Yes. I absolutely do.”

“Why?” I push, feeling a little high on the start of his confession.

He stares at my lips, then glances at the party behind us. “Because of this,” he says, gesturing privately from him to me. The air between us crackles. Atoms and ions spin faster. Everything feels charged and electric at his acknowledgement of this chemistry.

I’d begun to think only I still felt the spark. Even though it’s risky, even though it’s foolish to tango like this, I inch a little closer. “You feel it?”

His eyes float closed briefly, and when he opens them, they’re wide and bright. He lets each word breathe when he says, “Every second with you.” Then he glances toward the bar. “Let me get you a refill.”

That’s the end of that conversation.

I suppose that’s for the best. I came here tonight for intel, and I got it. That has to be good enough for me.

When he returns with the drink, I thank him, then we shoot the breeze about Los Angeles for a bit until his phone rings.

One look at the screen, and Maddox says, “Potential client. Give me a couple minutes, okay?”

“Go be agent-y,” I say, hoping I sound genuine. I do understand he’s a busy man.

He gives me a sympathetic look. “I’ll be fast.”

“Maddox, I like that you’re a popular agent. Take all the time,” I say.

With a grateful smile, he squeezes my shoulder, then walks away, saying, “Hey, Braxton.”

I survey the scene. The party’s fading a little. Gunnar’s still busy with his buddy. Normally, I’d circulate and make new friends. Chat with anyone. But Maddox will be back soon.

Yawning, I head to the far corner of the patio. That was a helluva game tonight. My muscles are tired, and my body weighs a ton. Maybe I’ll just stretch out on a lounge chair and text my brother. I duck into the tented cabana away from the party, flop down and open my text app. Before I can even start a message, though, I’m yawning again, stretching out under the stars, and counting sheep.