Facing me again, Watt chuckled.
“Yeah, I got to hear all about that,” he said smugly. “I know you haven’t been back that much, but I still go to that bar, and that stupid one with the fake tits? Lana? She told me all about how you got Blondie fired the day after I talked to her,” he said, his lip curling. “So you could keep that sweet young pussy for yourself, I guess.”
My blood boiled as I stared at Watt, but outwardly, I gave nothing away as I took a half step closer to him.
“I’m going to walk away now, Watt,” I informed him, allowing more than a shade of warning to find its way into my professional tone. “And after I leave this bar, I sincerely hope you do the same, because what you need right now is to go home, drink some water and get some rest. And in the morning, you and I can have a much-needed talk about all your concerns,” I said.
And for as calm as I was, I knew the hostility between us was palpable, because the bar was quieter now than was natural for the amount of people inside.
“Yeah, well, what if you’re not my agent in the morning?” Watt challenged with a curl of the lip.
That would be for the best, but we’ll wait till your stupid, drunk ass is sober to finalize it, I thought.
Though what I said was much more acceptable on a professional level.
“In that case, Watt, we won’t speak at all.”
And with a single look in Adam’s direction, we were heading for the doors, Adam ushering A.J and Holland with both hands till I could grab hold of Holland myself.
“What, you like guys who get you fired from your job?” Watt taunted her as we passed, making my shoulders tighten and my pulse thump in my ears. But I ignored Watt to walk with Holland, both of us trailing Adam and A.J and leaving behind my drunk idiot of a more-than-likely-former client.
“That’s the guy from that night, right?” Holland whispered shakily when we got outside. I nodded. But I said nothing yet, still tense because my driver had yet to round the corner, and that made us sitting ducks for the drunk athlete with the bruised ego.
I’d expected it, but my pulse spiked when I heard the front doors of the bar burst open behind us.
Then came Watt’s sneering laughter.
“Hey, what if we all didn’t have jobs tomorrow?” he asked.
“Watt,” I growled before I even turned around, but as soon as I did, my eyes went wild because I saw him reaching for Holland.
“Why don’t you come with me?” he jeered, grabbing onto a fistful of her shirt.
Then he jerked so hard she fell and though I knew that shouting followed, I heard none of it because I was already consumed.
With blinding fury. White-hot rage.
I saw A.J rushing to Holland. Heard Adam growling in my ear. He trapped his arms around me, but I broke free easily.
Then I lunged at Watt and with a single swing, he dropped.
39
IAIN
Three Weeks Later
“You’re asking if you can quote me on that?” Drew said incredulously with his ear pods in and his phone resting on my coffee table beside him. “Dude. Yes. I’m giving you an exclusive interview. I appreciate your consideration, but just because I’m saying crazy shit doesn’t mean I don’t want you to publish it. Publish that shit.”
Even in my state, I had to snort at the scene that was currently playing out with him in my living room.
He was stretched out on my couch this morning with Kai sitting on his chest, playing with a stuffed shark toy. It was his one day off for the month of August and he was spending it a floor down in my apartment, doing what he’d been so vigilantly doing for the past three weeks—serving as a one-man PR campaign for Iain Thorn.
Which was admittedly necessary after I dropped Shane Watt outside a downtown sports bar.
I knew well that I was going to make the news.
After all, I was more than familiar with sports scandals. I’d handled plenty on behalf of my clients. Put out hundreds of fires over the course of the years. I knew how the media cycle worked.