“I’m not one of her players, and my cousin wants me here.” Wendell glanced at Marcus for support, but he stood back, clearly ill and uncomfortable and not ready to pick sides.
Olivia straightened her shoulders. She intended to protect her player and the team’s reputation. “You’d better think about your actions. Your cousin has a morals clause in his contract. The NFL has strict behavioral policies and expectations. And instead of you helping him follow those rules, you keep putting him in situations that violate them. The team has every right to ban you from events.”
“Fuck that,” Wendell said, his anger showing. “It’s a free country. I can stay if I want to. And it’s my job to take care of him.” He pointed to Olivia. “And no bitch is going to tell me I can’t,” he said, his voice rising.
“That’s enough.” Dylan grasped Wendell’s shoulder and turned him toward the parking lot. “You will not speak to her that way. You will not show up at team events. And you will stay the hell away from your cousin as long as he’s under contract with the Thunder.” Dylan grasped the man hard enough to give him a shake as he spoke.
“Take your hands off me!” Wendell tried to shrug free.
“Is everything okay here?” a security guard strode up to them and asked.
“This man shouldn’t have been given a pass,” Olivia said. “He needs to be escorted off the property.”
The guard glanced at Olivia’s name tag and then Dylan’s. With an understanding nod, he took hold of Marcus’s cousin and walked the belligerent man out to the parking lot. He fought and argued the entire way.
“Ms. Olivia, Mr. Rhodes, I’m sorry. I—”
Dylan held up a hand to cut the other man off.
“We need to get him to a doctor,” Olivia said before Dylan could speak. “He’s sick.”
As if on cue, Marcus moaned and grabbed his stomach.
“I’ll take him to medical. You stay and do what you need to for the other players. I’ll text you, and we can meet up here or back at the hotel, depending on where I end up.”
“Are you sure?” Olivia asked.
Dylan nodded. He leaned over and brushed his lips over Olivia’s, and she took strength in that simple touch. She’d been able to handle Wendell, but her insides were still trembling. There was something about the man that wasn’t just mean but dangerous. She couldn’t be sure, but she suspected he’d put something in Marcus’s food that had made him so sick he couldn’t play.
In any case, she hoped Marcus was right this time and Wendell would head on home. Unfortunately, she sensed they hadn’t seen the last of Marcus Bigsby’s cousin.
* * *
By the time someone on the medical staff checked Marcus out, he was burning up with fever. He wouldn’t be playing in the Pro Bowl. So Dylan took Marcus back to the hotel in a cab and led the man directly up to his room. Marcus was full of apologies for Wendell’s arrival in Arizona and for his own inability to play. He was visibly upset, but as soon as he lay down on the bed, he fell asleep.
Dylan sat in the outer room of Marcus’s suite and began the process of damage control. The fact that Marcus wasn’t playing would be big news, and Ian needed to get the PR team on things as soon as possible. He’d already informed Ian, who’d taken charge from Miami. He hired a private security guard to sit in the outer room and make sure Marcus didn’t slip out … or Wendell slip in.
By the time the guard arrived to switch places with Dylan, the Pro Bowl was nearly over. Dylan had caught most of it on TV, and the sympathy factor was playing in Marcus’s favor. Crisis averted, he thought, as he headed down to his suite to wait for Olivia.
He must’ve fallen asleep, because he woke to find her curling against him on the bed, her hair damp, smelling fresh and fragrant from a shower.
His cock sprang to attention, as it always did when she was around. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“That’s because you were out cold.”
He nodded. “How did the rest of the day go?” he asked.
“Fine.” She shrugged. “Normal. How’s Marcus?”
He’d already spoken to her on the phone, and she knew her brother had hired someone to watch over their sick star player.
“Still asleep as far as I know.” He reached over and checked his phone. “No texts from his babysitter,” Dylan muttered.
“Good.” Olivia laid her head on his shoulder and groaned. “What a day.”
“You can say that again.”
“What a day,” she muttered.