Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Social conduct for hate-free inter-colleague teamwork
For short: SCHIT
Under no circumstances should the work be compromised due to a shared (very distant!) past. Should this past come up: ignore, evade, or distract.
I’d say I won.”
“Did you finalize the contract?”
“Well, no, but…”
“Shit, Hazel, then nobody won!” Fox groaned and threw his head back before giving her a nasty sideways glance. Thank goodness the light turned green at that moment, so he had to focus on the road again.
Austin Fox was captain of the L.A. Hawks for a reason: No one could make you feel guilty like he did. If Hazel had known that in advance, she might have thought twice about signing him — and making him one of her best friends.
“We’re close to an agreement,” she lied. But it was a white lie, and when it came to Gareth Fucking Clark, white lies were allowed.
“You’ve been telling me that for two months!”
“I’ve meant it for two months. I’m not the problem,” she replied calmly, smoothing the chiffon fabric of her light blue evening gown. It was odd to call it an evening gown at the moment, for it was 11:00 a.m., and hopefully she’d be leaving Matt and Maddie’s wedding before 5 p.m.
“You know, Moreau and I talked about it, and we agree that you two are both the problem,” Fox grumbled.
“Oh sure, now Moreau’s speaking!” The Hawks goalie was usually as silent as a rock with social anxiety.
“Yeah, Anna’s a good influence on him. We’re not entirely sure why you and Clark are always at each other’s throats. I mean, you used to date, didn’t you? You must have hit it off at some point.”
Hazel stiffened, her stomach twisting strangely.
She should never have told him that. “First, it was ages ago. Seven years already. We were in college, Gareth wasn’t quite so spoiled by his work, ego, and money.
” And yet, she should have known better back then.
“Second, even when we were together, we really didn’t get along.
” And she wanted to stop talking about it now.
“You said you parted amicably. Why…”
“Fox, mind your own business,” she said harshly.
“I’d love to! But my business is one hundred percent hockey, and right now, you’re jeopardizing that business.”
“Your contract is as good as signed!” At least it was as soon as Gareth relented. She’d given up too much for him too many times in her life, and it had always been the beginning of the end.
Fox sighed heavily and turned onto the highway toward Santa Monica. “I almost regret taking you to this wedding. Clark will be there too, and if you two get into a fight…”
“I’m doing you a favor by coming,” she said, clucking her tongue.
“I don’t like weddings, you know that! They’re like Disney movies: too cheesy, too long, and just overall too much.
But you said, Come on, Hazel, please! Otherwise, Maddie will force some stranger on me because I've been single since my nasty divorce five years ago. She thinks it’s unhealthy!
I agree with her, by the way. Not all women are as awful as… ”
“Mind your own business, Hazel.”
“Well, my business is one hundred percent my clients, and since you’re one of the lucky ones…” She patted his shoulder, and Fox groaned in annoyance.
“Hazel. I need a contract, not emotional support!”
“I’ll take care of it!”
“By turning Gareth Clark against me?”
“Oh, please. Unlike me, Gareth successfully separates his personal life from his business.” Except when it came to her. “He’ll always love you because you bring in an incredible amount of money.”
“Hazel…”
Her phone rang. “Sorry. I have to take this.”
“Hazel!”
“Hello?” she answered.
“Ms. Barrow, this is about the watch advertisement for your client Lucas Moreau,” a somber male voice replied. “We’ve received your contract draft, yet we haven’t discussed the amount due from us.”
“Good morning to you too, Mr. Rogers,” she responded amicably, deliberately filtering the soft, natural undertone from her voice.
Mr. Rogers was a man of high standing in his business.
He would therefore treat her like all men of the same ilk.
Many weren’t consciously misogynistic. They didn’t even realize they were treating her differently than male sports agents.
Unfortunately, Hazel wasn’t so blissfully ignorant.
Over the past ten years, she’d had to listen to more crap than Hercules could shovel.
At Harvard, at every job she’d had, it had been the same.
In every stadium VIP lounge, at press conferences, and charity events, where she’d once been mistaken for a player’s groupie rather than his agent.
Men might play up the idea that women were equal, that no one treated them differently — but the sports industry was still stuck in the Stone Age.
Women were fit to be cheerleaders, but otherwise… ?
“Yeah, yeah, good morning,” Mr. Rogers said crisply. “The sum…”
“We set the sum before my client, Mr. Moreau, gained media attention and widespread popularity,” she explained matter-of-factly.
“His jersey sales have tripled since his relationship with Anna Temple, the sister of two hockey luminaries, Dax Temple and Jack West, went public. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s now a sweet family man too.
His value has increased, and so has the sum. ”
Mr. Rogers laughed mirthlessly. “You can’t just decide that!”
“I haven’t decided anything; the market has. Mr. Moreau’s time as well as his face are worth more. The sum is fixed.”
“No! I’d like to speak to your superior.”
“I am the superior, Mr. Rogers,” she replied coolly, sitting up straighter. “And you know what? My client isn’t so keen on watch advertisements anyway, so maybe we should just drop the deal and…”
“No! No, no,” he replied hastily. “We…” He trailed off, and she could practically hear his teeth grinding. “Fine! We’ll pay that sum. My assistant will contact your assistant.”
“Great. Have a nice day,” she said politely and hung up.
Fox chuckled softly beside her. “Moreau’s face is worth more?”
“Absolutely. I know he hates the media hype, but he’s in greater demand than ever. Everyone loves him.”
Fox laughed louder. “God, he’ll hate that more than the media hype. He probably preferred his reputation as a killer.”
Hazel grinned. Yes, Fox was right. But before she could tell him that, her phone rang again. Oh, crap. She’d been expecting the call, but really wasn’t keen on taking it. But he was her client, so…
“Do I have to find another agent, Hazel?” Jason Devreaux greeted her angrily. “One who’s not on Gareth Clark’s hit list? Because why the hell am I not on a plane to L.A. yet?”
“Nothing’s standing in the way of your trade…”
“Oh yes, there is! Your hate-fest with fucking Clark is!” he snapped. “You know, they warned me: don’t switch to Barrow if you want to go to LA. Clark hates her like wrinkles in his suit trousers. But you convinced me that you were the best…”
“I am the best!” she replied angrily. “And we have the upper hand; they want you.”
“Of course they want me! They can’t rely on old timers Fox and West as centers, and Alvarez is still in children’s ice hockey skates!”
“I heard that,” Fox growled.
Hazel ignored him and took a deep breath. “How are you, Jason?” she asked softly. “Are you sleeping better?”
“Hazel…”
“Are you?”
“No!” he replied irritably.
“Are you doing the meditation exercises I showed you?” she whispered sympathetically.
“No!”
“Jason, come on. It's time to help yourself.”
He took a shuddering breath. “I want to, but…God, I have to get out of here, okay? The whole place…Canada, the people…I just have to get out.”
“I know. And I’ll make sure it happens. I promise. The sale is merely a formality. Do your exercises, otherwise you’re no good to anyone.”
“Okay. Yeah, yeah. You’re right. But don’t screw it up. I need this.”
He hung up.
With a sigh, she took the phone away from her ear. Shit. This thing with Gareth was a growing problem. She’d sworn to herself that she’d never let him get in her way again!
If word got out that she and Gareth Clark didn’t get along, and no one became her client because they wanted a chance with the Hawks… Shit.
“You’re impressive, you realize that, right?” Fox interrupted her thoughts.
She laughed. “You really shouldn’t be driving drunk, Austin.”
“I’m serious. You just used three personalities in five minutes. You were tough, then patient, and then, soft as butter.”
“No. That’s all me,” she explained with a smile. “I’ve gotten good at being the right Hazel at the right time.”
“Hm. Sounds exhausting being you.”
Oh, he had no idea.
There wasn’t a single part of her life where she could show all her facets at once.
Every client, every contract partner required a different side.
But she’d started perfecting them at age twelve, the day her mother lost her job.
At Harvard, for example, she’d always had to be the tough Hazel. Well, except for those moments with…
Her phone rang again.
“You’re not serious,” Fox snorted. “You work too much.”
“I know.” She glanced at the screen. Simon was blinking, so she lowered the phone. “It’s okay. I’m not taking the call.”
Fox narrowed his eyes. “Is that your ex again?”
“Yes.”
“Hm. That guy is still obsessed with you.”
She sighed. “I know.”
“I liked him. He was nice.”
“Oh, the nicest! He’s a great man. Sensitive, funny, hot…”
“Uh-huh. Then why did you break up with him?”
She lowered her gaze because she knew what love felt like — and Simon hadn’t even come close.