A Night on the Red Carpet

"Hey, if it isn't the Cubano Bambino," I said as I walked up. Seeing me, Carlos smiled and broke free from Schultz's clutches, much to the weasel's dismay.

Carlos loved the nickname "Cubano Bambino." I coined it when I first signed him, a catchy way to market a relatively unknown prospect to teams before the MLB draft. It was a clever connection of his Cuban ancestry and Babe Ruth's famous monicker. When Carlos hit thirty home runs his rookie year, the nickname stuck. It was one of many reasons why Carlos considered me a friend and not just his agent.

"Jake, it's great to see you, my friend," Carlos said as he crushed me with a hug. "How have you been?"

"Busy taking calls from the Yankees and Dodgers about my favorite right fielder," I answered with a grin. Seeing that Schultz hadn't taken the hint to leave, I added, "Oh, hey, Schultz, didn't see you there."

Turning back to Carlos I went for the kill, "If you've been talking to this guy, better make sure you still have your wallet and jewelry."

Carlos and I howled. Schultz glared venomously at me, beady eyes narrowed, and lips curled. Then his face transformed, a wicked grin spreading before he said, "Nice to see you, too, Maxwell. I was going to say hello earlier, but you looked busy with my sloppy seconds."

Schultz inclined his head and raised his eyebrows in the direction behind me. I turned to see where he directed his nod. It was toward Connor and his entourage.

"Connor was never a client of yours," I replied, confused at his reference to "sloppy seconds" as it related to Connor.

"I wasn't talking about Connor," he said smugly with an oily grin, then turned and walked away.

I looked back over my shoulder. Layna. He was talking about Layna.

My head spun. A ringing sound built in my ears until it was so loud, I couldn't hear the crowd. My skin itched and burned; I wanted to crawl out of it.

'No. There was no way Layna slept with that lowlife, fucking slimeball. Not my Layna,' I thought. 'That would go against everything I knew about her. No, she wouldn't do that. After all, she told me she left her last company because of rumors that she slept her way to the top.'

Though, as I thought back, frantically trying to recall exactly what she said, I didn't remember her ever saying the rumors were untrue. My brain spotted a loose string and pulled.

If Layna and Schultz had worked together, and she slept with him, and people at work knew, that could easily start a rumor that she slept her way to success. And though I hated the guy, even I had to admit women found him attractive. It disgusted me to even think it, but the pieces could fit. Suddenly, images of Schultz with his tongue in Layna's mouth, and his hands on her body, assaulted my mind. I wanted to vomit.

'Did Layna lie to me?' I wondered. 'Do I really know her as well as I think?'

'No. It's fucking Schultz trying to mess with me and throw me off my game,' I reasoned. 'He must know Layna and I are together. He's just trying to fuck with my head tonight.'

"Jake?" Carlos asked.

"Sorry, what?" I asked, realizing that Carlos was looking at me funny.

"You okay, brother?" he inquired. "I asked if you remember my wife, Gabriela, but you didn't answer. You looked checked out for a minute there."

"Sorry," I replied. "Guess I got lost in my head. Yes, Gabriela, I remember you."

Trying to get my focus back in the game, I offered my hand to Carlos' stunning, twenty-two-year-old wife who I most certainly hadn't forgotten. Gabriela Carvalho was a professional surfer, though if she had been five inches taller, she might have joined the short, albeit illustrious, list of Brazilian supermodels. She fixed me with a lascivious grin, which looked stellar with her tan skin, dirty blonde hair, and big hazel eyes. She regarded my proffered hand for a second, then pushed past it to give me a hug.

"Hello, Jake," she said in her sexy Brazilian accent, pressing her body against mine a little more firmly than I was comfortable with, especially in front of her husband, my client.

When Carlos told me he was going to marry Gabriela two years ago, I repeatedly warned him to get a prenuptial agreement. He was on the road a lot with his team. She travelled, too, chasing waves all over the world on the World Surfing League tour. I hired a private investigator to trail her for two weeks, after Carlos explicitly told me not to, and learned she was chasing more than just waves. I did my best to protect Carlos without telling him exactly what I'd discovered about her, but he ultimately ignored my advice because she was "the one." As I broke free from her grasp, she eyed me like a wolf looking at a sheep, reminding me why I warned him about her.

I walked Carlos and Gabriela to the step and repeat backdrop, where dozens of photographers were waiting to get pictures of the power couple. Once they were in position for their photo op, I bade them farewell and headed back to Layna and Connor.

I caught sight of Layna, watching her work the crowd like putty in her hands. She took my breath away. She was so graceful. Elegant. Stunning. And she was with me. I reminded myself of that fact as thoughts of her with Schultz loitered at the edges of my mind.

"How's it going here?" I asked Layna as I walked up.

"Great," she replied enthusiastically, her dazzling smile making my heart skip a beat. "Did you take care of Aaron?"

"Yeah, he was moving in on Carlos Alonso, but I ran him off."

"What a slimeball. I can't stand that guy," she said with a disgusted look on her face.

"Yeah, same," I replied absently, my mind still spinning over what Schultz said to me. Unable to shake the images of Layna with Schultz, I threw out, "Hey, did you use to work with him?"

Layna's mouth twisted in a distasteful look, then she said, "Unfortunately, yes. We worked together at my last agency. The one I told you I left because of the rumors about me."

"Ah," was all I said as my mind once again focused on what she didn't say. She didn't say the rumors were untrue. That was twice now.

The flood of images attacking me worsened. Layna bent over a desk, naked, as Schultz fucked her from behind, his reptilian hands slithering along her hips and breasts. Shultz lying on a bed, hands behind his head and a smug look on his stupid fucking face, as Layna bounced up and down on his cock, her head thrown back in ecstasy. I couldn't stop the thoughts from pouring into my mind.

'Get your head in the game, Jake,' I told myself. 'You don't know that she slept with him. This is Layna, the same person who reported you to HR to protect her reputation and career. You owe it to her to at least ask her before you start making assumptions. Don't do anything stupid that will blow up the best thing that's happened to you.'

I didn't have any meaningful experience with relationships, but I knew a few things. One of them was that jealousy and possessiveness are big-time turnoffs. Same for insecurity. And in that moment, that was all I felt. All that I could feel.

Even if she had been with Schultz, that was in the past. She was with me now. It wouldn't be fair or right for me to judge her for something she did before we ever met. Yet I couldn't shake how I felt. Aaron fucking Schultz. Of all people, why did it have to be the fucking asshole I despised more than anyone. I was in a tailspin and couldn't pull out of it.

I should talk to her. In my heart, I knew that. However, the red carpet at the ESPYs was not the place for that conversation. And with what I was feeling, I didn't trust myself to keep my cool. I was more likely to say something stupid and piss her off. Or worse, hurt her. I needed to keep it together and get through the night.

"Are you alright, Jake?" Layna asked, a concerned look on her face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, though even I heard the tension in my voice. "Think I just have too much on my mind. I'll be fine. We should head inside now."

"Okay," she said tentatively, taking my hand as we entered the building with Connor and his entourage.

...

Our seats were near the front of the auditorium, thanks to Connor being nominated for three awards and a heavy favorite to win the awards for best male college athlete and best college football player. Connor sat in the center of our group of six, with his twin sister on one side, and his two best friends on the other side. I sat between Connor's sister and Layna.

I'd suggested that Layna sit next to Connor's sister. Layna vetoed that idea. It didn't go with her branding strategy for Connor.

Two weeks ago, Connor told us he wanted to bring an Instagram model he had just started dating. Layna convinced him otherwise, reminding him that many star quarterbacks had stable relationships with classy women. Brady, Manning, Montana, and Mahomes, all won multiple Super Bowls while happily married to women who exuded more class than flash. In contrast, the quarterbacks with the reputation for playing the field, burned out quickly or faced constant negative press about their love lives every time they had a bad game. Although Layna didn't tell Connor to stop dating the Instagram model, he did right after that conversation. He must not have seen her as marriage material.

Plus, Layna's branding strategy counted on him being desirable to women. The handsome, young quarterback who attends an award show with his sister is both single and cares about his family. Which also meant my beautiful girlfriend couldn't be visible when the cameras landed on Connor, lest the gossip columns run with the wrong story. So, Connor brought his sister, and I sat between her and Layna.

Once the ceremony began, I pushed thoughts of Schultz out of my head, and returned my focus to where I needed it: on my job. It didn't hurt that Layna laced her fingers between mine and pulled our joined hands into her lap. The feel of her skin comforted me, and when I turned to look at her, her lovely smile and glimmering eyes lifted my mood. It was hard for me to feel anything but joy when the beautiful woman holding my hand smiled at me. This was the Layna I knew. This was the woman I had fallen for.

The event was a smashing success for Connor and, indirectly, Layna and I who were sitting next to him when all the eyes in the room went to him. As expected, he won the awards for best college football player and best male college athlete. He didn't win the award for best play, though I thought he should have. His escape from what looked to be a game-ending safety, followed by a scramble and a forty-yard throw for the game-winning touchdown was one of the best plays I'd ever seen. It was the play that likely won him his second Heisman trophy.

As a result of Connor's big night, spirits were high as we headed to the after party.

...

While riding in the limo from the ceremony to the after party, Layna and I mapped out our gameplan for the rest of the night. She would introduce Connor to some of her corporate contacts who were interested in an endorsement or licensing deal with him. Though Connor wanted to skip the event, she convinced him to stay for a short time, promising not to keep him long. In contrast, I would connect with potential clients, particularly the ones Layna thought she could help most with her skill set. Once she finished introducing Connor, we'd team up again for the rest of the night.

We met up with Connor at the entrance, then Layna and I divided up to conquer. I met with two football players, a pair of ageing veterans in the twilight of their professional careers, but with whom Layna saw an opportunity. Both players agreed to meet with Layna and I next week to hear what we had to offer. As I wrapped up the second meeting, I noticed Layna saying goodbye to Connor and headed in her direction.

"Hey, how's it going?" she asked, leaning in for a kiss. Though I was surprised to see her looking for a kiss in public, I would never pass up those lips. I captured her upper lip between mine for a moment, more than a peck but not long enough to draw attention.

"Great, I got us two meetings for next week," I answered after breaking the kiss.

"Nice work, pretty boy," she replied with a mischievous grin. "I'm going to have to find a way to reward you for your efforts when we get back to your place tonight."

"Planning on staying over then, princess?" I asked playfully.

"I have a key," she answered. "I'm told that's basically an open invite to stay when I want. And tonight, I want... you."

Staring into her sparkling turquoise eyes as she teased me, I was unable to resist leaning in and kissing her, my tongue parting her lips and finding its dance partner. If anyone at the party missed the first kiss, they didn't miss the second one. I didn't care. I wanted the world to know Layna and I were together.

"Oh, Jake, is that Athena Johnson over there?" Layna asked, nodding her head toward a tall, attractive, cocoa-skinned woman in a classy red gown who was talking to a man who had his back to me.

"Looks like her," I responded. "She was top of your list. Let's go say hello."

The instant I finished my sentence, the man Athena was talking to turned around. It was fucking Schultz.

"Oh shit, she's talking to Schultz," Layna cursed. "Tell you what, I'll keep Schultz busy, you get Athena locked down, okay?"

I didn't like the idea of Layna spending time with Schultz. Especially after what he said to me about her earlier. However, this was her plan, so I went with it.

"Yeah, okay," I said reluctantly.

"You get me an in with Athena, and that reward of yours," she began in a low, sultry voice, her eyes locking with mine, before she teased out the rest of her sentence, "will be very... very... special."

Her slow drawl and the promise of a 'special' reward made my cock stir. There was no way I could refuse her when she played dirty.

"You've got yourself a deal, princess," I said, grinning as I readied my mind and focused on the challenge.

We decided to go with the shoplift. Layna bumped into Schultz from behind, enough to get him to turn around, away from Athena. While he had his back turned, I swooped in on Athena. To buy me additional time, Layna pulled Schultz in for hug, which made my skin crawl and set my mind back several hours. But it gave me enough time to introduce myself to Athena, notice her glass was empty, and suggest we walk to the bar to grab a refill. With Schultz distracted by the pretty blonde, Athena agreed to go with me. By the time Schultz turned back around, Athena and I were at the bar. It was a perfectly executed shoplift.

Athena Johnson was a twenty-year-old professional tennis player, the daughter of a former point guard for the Atlanta Hawks and a Miss Georgia runner up. With a 6' 3" African American father, and a blonde southern belle mother, Athena was blessed with long legs and exotic beauty.

Athena hit the pro tour at sixteen years old, with the kind of talent that had people making comparisons to Venus and Serena. However, immaturity and on court tantrums threatened to derail a promising career. It certainly hurt her with sponsorship deals. Most agents passed on her. Over the past year though, she grew up, and her game improved. She'd won a few minor tournaments and made it to the final of the Australian Open. With the improved attitude and results, and her striking looks, Layna saw a ton of potential in Athena.

"It's got to be tough missing Wimbledon," I commented after the bartender poured my wine and her water.

"Man, it sucks," she complained. "I should be playing in a semi-final right now, not hanging out here."

"Hamstring, right?" I asked.

"Yep, pulled it bad right before I was supposed to leave for London. I'll just have to save up all my frustration and take it out on my opponents at the U.S. Open."

"Well, maybe it was fate," I offered. "We wouldn't have met if you were in London."

"Was that a pick-up line?" she joked, though her body language suggested she was hoping it was.

"Sorry, no." I chuckled. "I'm an agent, and that beautiful blonde over there who saved you from Aaron Schultz, is my girlfriend and partner in crime."

As I mentioned Layna, I looked in her direction and saw she was still talking to Schultz. Only now he had one hand on the small of her back, as he pointed at something with his other hand and whispered in her ear. And she was smiling. Schultz looked back towards me and, when his eyes met mine, he fucking winked.

'Why the fuck is that asshole touching her?' I thought. 'And why is she letting him?'

My blood boiled as I watched the biggest scumbag on the planet paw my girlfriend while she laughed it off. 'Did she like his hands on her?' I wondered. 'Does she want to fuck him?' I was spiraling fast down a rabbit hole.

My heart raged at the thought of Layna fucking Schultz, while my fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I wanted to punch something hard. I wanted to run over to fuckface, punch him so hard that my fist shattered his teeth, grab his spine through his throat, and then rip his fucking head off like Sub Zero in Mortal Kombat. Fatality, mother fucker.

Violence gave way to fear, and my skin crawled as an image popped into my head of the two of them lying naked in bed, cuddling the way she cuddled with me. That image shifted to one of her sucking his cock slow and deep, while his eyes mocked me.

The fear of losing Layna to that fucking piece of shit gripped and paralyzed me. My chest constricted and I couldn't breathe, like I was trapped in a giant vice that was slowly crushing me. As I contemplated life without her, I felt a lump in my throat and tears well in my eyes.

'Why isn't she pushing him away?' I wondered. 'Have I lost her? Did I ever have her?'

"Are you okay?" a disembodied voice asked quietly.

"Huh?" I said as my brain rebooted. I looked in the direction the voice came from. It was Athena, with one eyebrow raised, like she was looking at a lunatic.

"I think you need to take a breath," she suggested gently.

"I'm okay," I said after taking in the deep breath she suggested.

"You don't look okay."

"Sorry," I said. My brain was still coming back online, but my mouth kept moving for some reason, "I hate that guy, and it's making me insane to sit back and watch him molest her while she laughs it off."

Athena looked at me with pity for a second, looked at Layna, and then said, "She doesn't want him to touch her, you know?"

"What makes you say that?" I asked curiously.

"You can tell by her body language. The way she's moving, like she's trying to keep his hands on her back and off her ass. She's just trying not to make a scene."

I looked back at Layna, trying to see what Athena saw. "How can you tell?" I asked, not seeing it.

"A woman can tell, Jake," she replied softly, as though she was recalling an experience of her own. "You can't see it because you've never had someone touch you without your permission and make you feel uncomfortable in a room full of people who can make or break your career."

Her words struck my heart like a dagger. If she was right, Layna wanted out of the situation she was in.

"She's only over there with him because I'm supposed to be here with you, trying to convince you to meet with us next week," I admitted. "Seems I'm doing a shitty job of holding up my end of the deal."

"Yeah, you're not a very good agent," she teased with a laugh. "I'm pretty sure you're supposed to advise me, not the other way around."

"You're right," I said, shaking my head. "Can I start over?"

"Sure."

"I think you are one of the most genuine and thoughtful people I've ever met in this industry filled with people who are selfish, arrogant, and superficial," I said, causing her to sit up and raise her eyebrows. "You met me ten minutes ago yet were gracious enough to help me navigate my little issue. You're the type of athlete who I would run through a wall for, who I want to see succeed, who I'd go the extra mile for. And I think my partner, Layna, has some ideas as to how to make sure the rest of the world sees what I just saw in you. How was that?"