Hotshot (The Bennett Brothers 1)

“No,” I protest. “Now, I can’t sleep.”

He walks us to my room and sets me inside the door. “Get changed and meet me back on the sofa. We’ll watch some TV. We’ve done enough talking for tonight.”

He turns to walk away, and I watch him disappear into his own room and shut the door. It takes a full minute for me to move, and even then, I trip over my feet getting to my suitcase.

Once I’ve changed into my pajamas and brushed my teeth, I give myself a pep talk and realize this is not a hallucination. The details are fuzzy, but Crenshaw Bennett is waiting for me in the other room. My mind is swimming with questions, but I won’t ask anything else until I have my full wits about me and can process everything clearly. Even if it’s for one night, I’m going to enjoy it.

I walk into the living area and find him sprawled out on the couch with the controller in one hand, watching the TV. I stop dead at the sight of him in cotton pants and nothing else. The muscles hidden earlier under his shirt are now on display, and I want to weep in appreciation. He’s always been handsome, but right now, I take a second to memorize this image.

“Bizzy, come here.”

I walk over slowly, unsure where to sit. When I get close enough, he hitches an arm behind my knees and pulls me down, forcing me to lie on top of him.

“Get comfortable.”

I do as he says and lay my head on his bare chest. My eyelids grow heavy immediately and I snuggle close. “Please don’t let this be a dream,” I whisper to myself.

He tightens his grip and kisses my forehead gently.

“I think you are my dream,” is the last thing I hear before falling asleep.

Chapter 5

Shaw

I glance at my watch for the fifth time in an hour and make a decision. This meeting needs to end. The long-winded lawyer at the end of the table finally closes his presentation, and I stand, surprising those around me.

“Gentlemen, thank you for your time. I appreciate the diligence you put into this presentation. It seems we are all on the same page when it comes to expectations and long-term goals. Unfortunately, I have to head out.”

There’s a rumble around the table, and Perry shoots me an evil glare. “What the hell, Bennett? You’re leaving now?”

“Yep.” I pack up my laptop.

“Your office assured me this was legit. How the fuck can I make a decision about my representation based on two hours? This is your audition. You know how many other agents want my business?”

I stop myself from laughing and take a deep breath. Then I do what I do best. Straightening my shoulders, I pin the pompous prick with my eyes, and stare long and hard until he squirms in his seat.

The room is silent, watching me and waiting. This guy may be used to getting everything he wants, but if he’s represented by me and my agency, that shit stops immediately. I call the shots—always.

“Perry, I guess you didn’t get the memo. I’m fielding you. This was a technicality to see where your bosses stand and if you can handle being on the team I represent. I got what I wanted, and I’ll be in touch.”

“Bullshit! I make the decisions here. I’m the best Forward in the NHL! I don’t audition for anyone.”

His arrogant attitude reminds me of so many others I’ve smacked down, including my own brother.

“Perry, I can recite your statistics by memory, including the fights, penalties, and suspensions. The reason I’m here is because you are firing your current agent when the contract is up. You want the best. I am the best, but I don’t put up with bullshit, ever. I’m a lawyer and an agent, so you get the best of both worlds. I also put it into my contract that if you piss me off, you act out, or you ruin your reputation due to certain things, I’m out.

“I’m not your fucking babysitter, but damn close. You learn to mold to my demands, not yours. You want to fuck around with days’ worth of people kissing your ass? Good luck, but I saw what I needed to see. Your team is focused, driven, and has the staff in place to achieve that with the right talent.”

“You’re a stupid shit if you think I’ll listen to any lawyer. I pay your salary.”

At his statement, I’m done. I shake a few hands and make my way to the door. Only then do I look at the man in the center of the table who is flaming red.

“Perry, I pay my own salary because I’m fucking good at what I do. Think about it long and hard because this is your only chance. Talk to your coaches, talk to your teammates, and talk to your fucking team lawyers. I’ll assume you aren’t joining us for the dinner tomorrow night, but if you change your mind, call my assistant, Gail.” I walk out, and hear the son of a bitch cussing as the door shuts.

When I get into the elevator, I send a message to Gail, filling her in and asking that she amend the contract we drafted for Perry. I want an additional ten percent, on top of my standard percentage, if we sign him. Then I ask her to confirm our dinner reservations.

I wave down a cab and ask the driver to take me back to the hotel.