4. Brent
4
Brent
J oey’s drunken request plays on repeat in my mind as I sit in a meeting with Scott Reynolds, my sports agent. My gaze keeps wandering to my office window and the unimpressive view on the other side of the Hudson River. Getting involved with her is a bad idea, with her close relationship with my family, but I can’t shake the powerful urge to do it anyway.
“So, because of the most lucrative contract ever negotiated for a tight end, I think you’ll agree the five percent increase in commission is—”
“Fuck off.”
Scott laughs. “Wondered if you heard a word I said. Thinking about what to buy next with the shitload of money you keep making?”
“No, I’ll leave that to you. You don’t have to worry about this being your last ever contract.” The contract with the Firebirds is a good one. It’s long-term and advantageous even in the event of a career-ending injury, and will take me to the end of my career. I doubt I’ll play longer once the five years are up. There are only a handful of tight ends who have played past their mid-thirties. I’m fine not being one of them. My love for football morphed into a means to an end long ago. It became a way of providing financial security for my mother and sisters. Everything else that comes from it was—is—a bonus.
In fact, I would have been fine if I hadn’t gotten this new contract. I’m not sure what I’ll do when the time comes, but I have good options waiting for me.
My career has been pretty great so far. I’ve gone to the Pro Bowl several times, won two Super Bowls, and broken several tight end records—all of which have helped me secure this last contract, making me one of the top-paid players in the NFL, barring quarterbacks.
I will never have to worry about money again. And it’s because I don’t spend my paychecks indiscriminately. Past insecurities keep me from being one of those players who buys anything and everything that catches their eye. My only exceptions are my real estate properties and three cars, the Phantom being my most recent purchase. Hey, I’m a guy.
“Good thing you’ll always have endorsements. Speaking of which, don’t forget the Rolex commercial shoot in LA in two weeks. Also, you have…”
My gaze drifts back across the river as Scott’s voice drones on in the background. I trust my agent to make sure all the details are in place. My thoughts return to Joey, as they’ve done since the nightclub.
Does she watch my games? Has she ever come to see me when I played against one of the New York–area teams? Would she come watch me now?
I’d love to watch her come.
I swear and stand so abruptly Scott stops talking in mid-sentence. Ignoring him as he stares at me in confusion, I stalk over to the minibar and pull out a bottle of water.
Damn it. She has me tied in knots. I need to stop thinking about her and sex in the same breath. Fucking her is off the table.
Though I wouldn’t mind fucking her on a table.
Jesus.
I stalk out of my office, leaving behind a bewildered Scott, and stride down the hall to the much bigger corner office that belongs to my best friend and business partner in several ventures. Niko Anastasios, founder and CEO of Anastasios International, is technically also my boss as the majority owner of the Firebirds football team. Because of our business partnership, we had to jump through legal loopholes to make the trade to the Firebirds.
“Where the hell were you last week?” I ask as I walk into his office without knocking.
“Well, good morning to you, sunshine.” Niko leans back in his leather chair and raises an eyebrow. “No, it’s okay you barged in. I’m available for you anytime,” he says, his slight Greek accent taking the edge off his sarcasm. He motions for me to sit.
Ignoring the invitation and the question, I continue pacing. “You ever do it with a virgin? As a grown man?”
When Niko doesn’t answer or even respond with sarcasm, I face him. He’s turned in profile, staring out the window, lost in thought.
“You have, haven’t you?”
He turns to me, annoyed. “Why are you asking? You popped someone’s cherry last night?”
“No, I didn’t…but I want to. I mean, I want her —badly—but she told me she’s a virgin. Asked me to be her first.”
“I suppose someone has to be,” he says matter-of-factly. “Though I hope to hell she’s legal.”
“She’s twenty-five,” I reply absently, my mind still stuck on Niko’s words, mirroring my own thought as I fell asleep beside her.
Someone has to be . Who will it be, if not me? The thought of anyone else touching her…
“Really? In that case, are you sure she doesn’t want you to be her only ? Someone who waits this long is probably waiting for Mr. Right, and she might think that’s you, despite what she says.”
I collapse into the wide leather chair in front of Niko’s desk and consider his words. We met through Scott just before I was drafted when Niko was beginning to lay the foundation for his empire. Having the same goal of acquiring a fortune as quickly as possible, we became business partners and eventually friends. As my reward for being one of his first investors, he helped me manage, grow, and protect my finances. I trust him with every dime.
I also trust his counsel, even now, despite the deep disappointment I experience at having my doubts confirmed.
“But,” Niko continues, reading me perfectly, “if you manage her expectations from the beginning, it could work.”
“What do you mean?” I would have laughed at any other man who sounds as pathetically eager as I do.
“Lay out the rules from the beginning. You’ll probably sound like an asshole, but at least she won’t be imagining hearts and flowers or, God forbid, a spring wedding. It’s probably no different from what you do with other women. You just have to be very clear. Don’t allow for any misinterpretations.”
I sit quietly for a few moments, thinking about that. It sounds rational, but could I in good conscience propose something like that to Joey? She’s not like other women. She is innocent and sweet and sensitive.
But she’s still a woman . One who is undoubtedly ready for sex if she basically asked for it, right? And wouldn’t it be better if her first time was with someone who’d take care of her, someone with my level of experience? She asked me to be her first , not her only , so she’s probably not expecting anything more. Laying out the rules would just be a formality. I’d actually be doing her a favor.
Thanking Niko, who is once again staring out the window, deep in thought, I go back to my office to finish my meeting with Scott.