Still in Love - Page 20

“We’re not sure. His ID was fake and so we’re running his face through the database. I expect a hit any minute.”

“If he has a fake then he’s a low level grunt for someone. Clean him up, get him some food and treatment. Make sure he doesn’t have any contact with the outside world until I get a chance to talk to him.”

“Yes sir.”

Part of me wants to walk away from this shit. What do I care if Teddy gets his face bashed in? He needs a few knocks to the head to get him to wake up and realize the life he’s leading is only going to end miserably. But I know if he got in the least hint of trouble, it’d reach Abigail’s ears. I haven’t spent millions bailing Teddy out in order to keep Abigail happy only for him to rock her boat now. The real problem with Teddy is that he’s smart enough to find crooks like Marks but not savvy enough to realize those crooks are going to fuck him over. But am I surprised? If Teddy was smarter or less greedy, I wouldn’t have to keep funding his dumbass.

I’m going to have to have another meeting with Marks but he’ll want it on his turf. So I need to lure him out and I have the perfect bait. Marks arrowed straight to my signed Jeter ball so I know he’s a sports fan and there’s no bigger sports celebrity right now than Forest Wright. Since the quarterback won the Super Bowl—or hell, even before that, everyone has wanted to climb on his jock. Marks will not be immune. It’s a good thing it’s the off season. I call Wright.

“Yo, dude, it’s been forever,” he says, picking up immediately. “How are you and the missus doing?”


“Why hasn’t Abigail found me a good woman yet? I’m dying out here. All they want is sex and money.”

“Sounds terrible.”

“If you actually believed that, you, a happily married man, would be finding me a wife.”

“The key to staying happily married is to not run around with a bunch of single women.”

“So you’re worthless, is what I’m hearing.”

I roll my eyes. “You can take it that way.” I forgot how dramatic Wright was, but I guess that is some of his appeal. He lives everything in a big way.

“I am. I’m definitely taking it that way. What do you want then since you’re not calling me with a hidden gem of a girl that wants to husband me up?”

“I need a favor.”

Wright hoots in the phone. “A favor? You won’t find me even one woman but I gotta do you a favor.”

To shut him up, I send him a picture of the young man on my floor.

“Oh fuck. What is going on? You in trouble? Is it money? Or I guess I could send some of my defensive linemen down there, but not Fareed Jones. Jones is too valuable, but I’ll send some muscle. How many do you need?”

“I don’t need anyone,” I reply, slightly touched by Wright’s immediate reversal. He’s a good guy, which is why I called him. “I want you to invite me and a guy named Gregory Marks to the Athletic Club.” The Athletic Club is a New York gentleman’s club and you can only get in if you are hosted by one of the members. In order to be a member, you have to have won a championship in one of the major world sports. Wright got in years ago by virtue of being on a championship team. Last year he won the Super Bowl and basically rules the Athletic Club now. I don’t know what they do there, but a lot of moneyed people want to have access and only a few get in. I’ve never been because it’s never interested me. Who wants to hang around a bunch of rich dicks after work? That’s what I do all fucking day long.

“Are we hustling someone?”

“We are.”

“Damn. Sounds like fun. I’ll only invite you if I get to come, too.”

“I don’t know…” I start to say. Wright’s a wild card.

“Shit, man,” he sighs heavily. “I hear dinner is all booked up at the club for months. I don’t know when I can get you in.”

“This is why you’re single, Wright,” I tell him.

“I’m trying to be helpful. Meet me in the middle.”

“Fine. You can come but don’t butt in. The asshole who is coming is the one responsible for beating this kid’s face in. I don’t want to be accused of preventing a repeat of a championship because Marks decided you were his next target.”

“Pinkie promise,” Wright declares. “But after we have dinner do we escort him into the locker room and take turns kicking his balls in? Please say yes, otherwise I’ll have nothing to look forward to.”

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