Chapter 2

 

 

Before Elena got a chance to ask the receptionist what was going on, Chance, the team's manager called out to her from his office. “Elena,” he said jovially. “Come on in.”

She got the sense that this was a man in control, capable of passing through different worlds, like circles of athletes and those of well-groomed investors. It was his confidence, perhaps; and the way he had his feet up on his desk with a sly smile. He was casual, wearing a graphic tee with his auburn hair messed up and a pair of sandals to go along with his torn jeans. She imagined him with a surf board leaning against the wall of a luau hut, drinking a beer.

When she walked in, he said, “You can close the door.” Then he motioned for her to sit down.

She did.

“Diego Rojas is the lowest form of life I've ever come into contact with. Do you know what he did?”

“Of course I do. He knocked up one of the Hawk Ladies and now he's refusing to take responsibility for it. Everyone knows about it, and it's causing a huge scene. In my opinion, any man that could leave a woman after getting her pregnant doesn't deserve to exist, much less father a child.”

Chance put his feet down and leaned in. “Those women are the reason why people come to this arena. They don't care about the game. They just want to see the girls bend over. Maricela was one of our best. Everyone knows who she is. She's as big as he is. Now that they know what he did to her, women everywhere are burning their bras in her honor, and it's killing out ticket sales. I lost four sponsors this morning, and Diego could give a shit.”

“This isn't going to be easy. I don't think people want to listen to him.”

“They don't. Bottom line is damage control. Keep him in line. Teach him to talk to the press like he has more than a third grade education, and we'll do our best to keep her low key.”

“It won't be enough,” she added.

“If we can keep this controlled while you work on giving him a better image, we might be able to avoid the worst of it.”

The media cycle was slow, they didn't have much to talk about. It could take a long time for them to move on from the story. She wasn’t looking forward to this assignment.

“Oh, you'll be meeting Diego tonight. The team does charity work regularly. It helps bring in sponsors and it keeps the players occupied with something other than drugs and pussy. We're having a fundraiser for an African children's foundation and Diego is required to attend. It would be a great chance to corner him and maybe have a few drinks.”

“Okay.”

“Great,” he said as he stood up to show Elena out. “Give Chelsea your hotel information.” He stopped at the door and Elena watched as he undressed her with his eyes. “This is a red carpet event.”

“Of course,” she replied. The man was a pig.

“Perfect.” He slapped her on the back playfully. “I'll pick you up at six.” He gave her one last sickening look before he closed the door.

Elena hovered around the reception desk, while the girl fawned over the slab of bleached blond beef leaning over the counter. They were talking quietly, smiling and giggling. Elena couldn't make out what they were saying, but judging by the intensity of their looks, she had a pretty good idea.

She cleared her throat.

“Oh, hi!” Chelsea reacted with a high pitched explosion of energy

“Hi.”

“How was it?”

The man stared at Elena indignantly. He was probably upset that she interrupted him.

“It was fine,” Elena leaned against the desk. “What happened before I went in?”

“Well, Diego has been coming in every day, trying to talk to Chance, but Chance is really mad at him for knocking up that girl, so they keep getting into it. It's actually kind of funny. Their meetings never last longer than two minutes. So I do what I call the countdown.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.” Her blond ponytail bobbed up and down when she nodded her head excitedly. “It never fails.”

“You're so smart, babe.” The beefcake sounded like he was just as brain dead as she was.

“So, the man that rushed out of the office was Diego?”

“Yeah. I mean, you didn't know that? He's the star of the team.”

“I guess I didn't.” She said with a sinking feeling, as she handed Chelsea her hotel information and left.

Elena wasn't going to be able to get within a few feet of Diego without fainting, much less work with him on a daily basis. Image consultants were meant to have close relationships with their clients. They manage nearly every aspect of their PR, including wardrobe and statements to the press. She even regulated her client's mannerisms. She couldn't work with Diego on that kind of level.

He was more animal than human. He would either eat her alive or tackle her, probably both. How was she going to be around him, much less fix him up?

She wasn't sure she could handle any of the people she'd met. Elena was a simple woman whose life consisted solely of Netflix and quiet dinners. She liked things that were elegant and refined. She wasn't going to relate to these people and their over-exaggerated personas. They were too flamboyant and vulgar. Their lives revolved around their vices and base desires. There was no wholesomeness, no family or tradition. They lived the way they wanted to, with no regard to the consequences of their actions.