* * *

“Do you want to talk about it?” Brett asked as he stood in the doorway of my office.

I hadn’t realized he was there, so I set my phone on top of my desk and said, “Come on in.”

“I take it, you and Samantha talked?”

I shrugged. “She apologized for not telling me about her daughter, and we’re going to try to figure this shit out. Man, I don’t have a fucking clue how to navigate this one, but I guess it’ll make sense over time.”

He took a seat in one of the chairs in front of me. “The first step was her brother, and you made it through that. Now, I’m sure she has to figure out how to balance you and the little girl. Is the dad still in the picture?”

“No, it doesn’t sound like he ever was.”

Brett lifted a squish ball off my desk and tossed it into the air, caught it, and threw it high again. “Are you going to meet her kid right away?”

“She didn’t bring that up, but I have a feeling, it’s going to take a while.”

“That’s probably for the better. You can get you two figured out and then see how the little one fits in.” He set the ball down and grabbed one of the folders that held Shawn’s contracts. “Is Puma in here?”

I nodded. “Man, you weren’t fucking kidding. They’re playing hardball.”

“How about the others?”

“I should have the final numbers worked out within a few weeks. The contracts are going back and forth between the lawyers now that I’ve negotiated all the terms. You know, those greedy bastards have to weigh in and take their cut, too.”

“Says the dude with a law degree.”

I laughed at how true that statement was. “What do you have going on today?”

“I’m flying out tomorrow to go to Atlanta and then swinging by Memphis, Detroit, and Vegas where I’ve got clients shooting. My last stop will be LA where I’ll see James for a few days, and then I’ll come back to Miami. I think I’m going to head out of here after lunch and take the afternoon off.”

“Max is about to go on the road, too.”

I’d checked his schedule this morning before I stopped by his office to talk to him. I hadn’t seen much of him in the last few weeks, and I missed that fucker.

Brett picked up the ball again and tossed it to me. “I’m going to see him in LA while he’s out there, visiting Eve.”

I tossed the ball back to him just as a celebrity alert came across my phone. Several would come in a day, broadcasting whatever piece of gossip to millions of subscribers.

Just in case they involved one of my clients, I read every one that flashed across my screen.

This time, it was about someone I represented.

And it was also about our best friend.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” I said, reading the headline several times before I clicked on the photos.

There were three. Two showed Vince and Scarlett holding hands as they walked in South Beach. The third was a shot of them kissing.

“Look at this shit.” I held the phone, so Brett could see the screen.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Did you know about this?”

“Fuck no.”

I got up from my desk. “I’m getting to the bottom of it right now.”

I went down the short hallway until I reached Scarlett’s office. Her door was closed, but I could hear her on the phone. I stood there for a few seconds, and when she still hadn’t hung up, I knocked. Not waiting for a response, I went in, and she watched us walk toward her, the two of us sitting in front of her desk.

“Tell him I’m fucking pissed,” she barked into the phone. “Tell him I want his balls on a fucking stake, and that whoever took those goddamn photos was invading my privacy. You’ll be hearing from my attorney.” She slammed down the phone, took a breath, and smiled.

She was as ruthless as her three partners.

“Vince Hedman, huh?” I said.

“Oh God.” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Not you, too.”

“Were you going to tell us?” I asked.

“Were you going to tell me you were fucking Samantha Cole?” she came back with.

Brett laughed so goddamn hard.

So did I. “Touché, my friend.” I looked at Brett. “What the hell is going on at The Agency? You’re engaged to your own client.” I glanced at Scarlett. “You’re dating my quarterback. Who the fuck is next?”

“You and Max are off the market, so I think we’re good for a little while,” Brett said. “Scarlett, when did you start talking to Vince?”

“The night of the Super Bowl.” She smiled and nodded toward me. “I know it was the same night for you and Samantha. But you might want to fill Max in before he reads it in a celebrity alert and gets pissy, like the two of you just were.”

“There won’t be one,” I assured her. “No one gives a fuck about me, and Samantha isn’t a celebrity.”

“No one gives a fuck?” Scarlett mocked. “Have you forgotten about all the women who have tried to tame you over the years? The athletes, singers, and the actresses? When news gets out that you’re a taken man, I’d say a whole lot of bitches are going to care.”

My eyes shifted over to Brett. “Is she serious?”

He put his hands in the air. “Fuck if I know. I’m just glad it wasn’t my name in the alert this time. I’ve had way too many of those written about me.”

I shook my head. “I thought we promised no drama at The Agency?”

The two of them laughed.

“We signed twenty-two new clients today,” Scarlett said. “We’ve brought in over sixty million this month, and we have over two hundred agents applying to work here every week. I say we keep the alerts coming. It’s definitely good for business.”