Page 6 of The Problem with Playboys

Parker didn’t blame Marcus exactly, but his star client never should’ve put himself in the situation in the first place. A secret high-stakes card game with men linked to organized crime was simply not a good life choice. The fact that Marcus had bet—and lost—an entire year’s salary from his rookie contract? A $1.4 million loss, to be exact? That was salt in the wound.

The real problem was that Marcus was signed to Miami. The team had gone through major drama three years ago with multiple players finding themselves embroiled in four separate headline-grabbing scandals. The team became a fixture in the tabloids, which led to endless speculation about management, ownership and what exactly was going on with the franchise. It had taken that long to rehab the team’s image, and Marcus was an essential part of turning the page. He signaled the fresh start they needed. The owners, the Bratt family, had been crystal clear when they signed Marcus. They wanted players who were in the headlines for big wins, not epic personal failings. They wanted players of “high moral character.” They’d used those exact words. More than once. Parker knew in his heart that Marcus was a good guy. He’d simply made a colossally stupid mistake.

“I have no doubt that they take it very seriously. You’ve already paid up, haven’t you?” Parker asked. The last thing any of them needed was a mobster showing up looking for his money.

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re never going to do this again?”

“I swear.”

Parker drew in a deep breath through his nose and collapsed into his desk chair. “Okay, then. Now it’s time for me to figure out how to fix this. It’s been two days and it’s clear that Little Black Book is not going to let this go.” It turned out that Marcus came by his proclivity for gambling honestly—his grandfather ran an illegal underground casino in the 1950s. Parker never would’ve known about any of it if Little Black Book hadn’t shared this sliver of the Grants’ past last night.

“You don’t think I’ve ruined my career, do you?”

“No. I don’t. You’ll prove yourself on the field in the fall. But it’s not good to be in the doghouse with ownership. And you should be prepared for problems this summer during training camp. You need to walk in on the first day and figure out a way to be the rookie quarterback on a team of seasoned veterans who have already been through a lot. This is going to ding your credibility with those guys. They’re already jealous of your signing bonus.”

“I’ll call every one of my teammates and apologize. And maybe we should set up a dinner with the Bratts. Remind them that I’m solid.”

These were all good ideas, but Parker knew that the problem was much larger than that and they couldn’t handle it with a scattershot approach. They needed to be methodical, especially since they had no idea what Little Black Book might do next. Parker needed an expert. “Let me come up with a plan and I’ll call you when I’ve figured it all out, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Until then, continue to lay low. Stay home. Watch TV. Work out. And definitely no more card games.”

“Yes, sir.”

Parker hung up and kneaded his forehead, hoping to ward off a stress headache. It was no big secret who he should call. This was a job tailor-made for Chloe Burnett. Gorgeous and smart Chloe. Capable as hell in a pair of heels. Wound tight as a spring. And oh, yeah—his stepsister until the ink was dry on his dad’s divorce. Chloe was going tolovehearing that Parker had been a little too confident when explaining that a man like Marcus would never need her services. He’d been cocky and reckless. Then again, that was what strong, beautiful women did to him.

Parker grabbed his phone, only to be taunted when the screen came to life and he was confronted by the text his father had sent him when the story about Marcus made its way into mainstream news.

Isn’t this your client? This is very bad for me. I’ve known the Bratt family for years.

Parker’s father was highly skilled at making everything about him, but it still ate at Parker. He was thirty-four years old. He was accomplished in his industry. And yet his dad still treated him as though he needed to prove his worth.

I’m on it. And the Bratts have a gold mine on their hands with Marcus.

Of course, Parker wasn’t on it. Not yet. And the exchange only underscored what he needed to do. It was time for Parker to do the thing he hated—swallow his pride.

Chloe answered after several rings. “I can’t believe it took you so long to call.” There was a distinct edge of glee in her voice—was she enjoying her bit of revenge on him? Or was it possible she was flirting?

Parker’s mind flew back to their conversation at his dad’s house. She’d known a lot about Marcus. She’d said it was her job to stay well informed. Of course she knew about Marcus’s bad publicity. She had to. “Look, if you’re going to say I told you so, I’d like to go ahead and get that out of the way.”

“If I wanted to say that, I would have calledyou. The story about your star client broke two whole days ago. You clearly hesitated to reach out.”

“I needed time to think.”

“Precisely why you need someone like me. I don’t need time to think in these situations. I act. I know exactly what to do.”

“I don’t make a habit of hesitating.” He winced at the defensive nature of his knee-jerk response. “But this came out of left field. I guess it caught me a little flat-footed.”

“Totally understandable. I hear that all the time. That’s why I do what I do. Not that you actually believe in damage control, right? I believe you said that you didn’t see the point.”

Parker blew out a frustrated breath. “Look. I’m sorry for the things I said the other day. It was stupid of me and I know that now. But for the record, I hate the ‘gotcha’ mentality of the media. I don’t agree with the idea that every celebrity has to live their life on the straight and narrow. They’re human. Marcus is just a twenty-two-year-old guy who made a mistake. It happens every day.”

“Little Black Book isn’t exactly the media. They can do whatever they want right now.”

“No, it’s not. It’s like someone hiding in the bushes, waiting to jump out and scare you, if you ask me. Do you have any idea who or what is behind it?”