Bad Boy (Invertary 5) - Page 3
“Call me Flynn.” He slid his hold down her hand and over her fingers before releasing her.
Want flashed in her eyes before she took a wary step away from him.
“Let’s go.” She held out a hand to the kid.
With one last unreadable look at Flynn, Abby grasped her daughter’s hand and stalked back to her house. The kid turned back to him and stuck out her tongue. Flynn couldn’t stop a laugh from erupting.
As he watched Abby’s curvy behind sway, Michael came up beside him.
“That’s a helluva neighbour you’ve got there. You never mentioned she was so freaking wild. Hot too. Kate Middleton hot. Classy. I like that in a woman.”
Flynn noted the lust-filled interest in his teammate’s voice and scowled. “She’s off limits.”
Michael raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure?”
“I am now.” Flynn watched Abby shut the door quietly behind her. As though the stately Victorian house was too refined for slamming doors.
“Did you get that?
” An excited voice snapped his attention back to the people who invaded his space. “Please tell me you got it. That woman just propelled this documentary into the stratosphere. This is BAFTA material.”
Flynn let out a disgruntled sigh. He’d forgotten about the damn camera crew. He turned to the producer.
“You can’t use the footage.”
The slimy weasel grinned. “You signed a waiver. Full access to your life for the duration of the shoot. The only stipulation you made was that we had to stay in this one-horse town. Everything else is fair game.” He cast a lecherous glance towards Abby’s house. “Looks like this shoot is going to be more interesting than I thought.”
“My neighbour didn’t sign a waiver. She isn’t part of your show.”
“She was on your property. Attacking your belongings. Shouting at you.” The weasel laughed. “Seeing as this programme is about your life, she’s just become part of the show.” He turned to his mousy assistant. “Find out all you can about the neighbour. We need to come up with a way to give her more airtime.” The terrified girl nodded, but her eyes darted nervously to Flynn.
“This documentary is about my life after injury. It isn’t about my neighbour.” Flynn kept his tone even. Cold. It was the voice he used to scare the crap out of opponents.
The weasel was too far gone with thoughts of BAFTA Awards to care. “You said it—your life. And she’s in it.” He turned his back on Flynn. “I want highlights on the web within the hour. Contact the news. Maybe we can get it picked up in time for the ten o’clock slot. People are going to see this teaser and wet themselves with excitement.” He rubbed his hands together.
Flynn clenched his fists and took a step towards the man. A firm palm hit his chest to halt him.
“Not worth it,” Michael said. “Call your lawyer. Agent. Whatever. Get the suits to sort it out.”
“My agent got me in this mess in the first place.” And wasn’t Flynn the prize fool for letting it happen.
Michael shook his head. “I told you at the time you needed to spend some energy on vetting a new agent instead of screwing around. I told you about the rumours. Barney had some dodgy deals going on. The guy is only interested in money.”
“Thanks for the I-told-you-so. It’s always really helpful when I get them.” Flynn rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re right, though. I shouldn’t have signed with the first agent who sucked up after Gerry retired.”
“Barney saw a cash cow and went for it.” Michael’s nod was knowing. “The guy can be convincing.”
“Aye, but I made it easy for him. I wasn’t exactly paying attention.” His memories of the months before his old agent retired were a little hazy. He remembered a buxom brunette, a vintage Corvette, too much Italian wine and a speeding ticket outside Milan. But he didn’t remember much about screening new agents.
“He probably set this show up because he’s pissed you cut off his cash supply.”
“My heart bleeds for him, how he must have suffered when I got injured out of the game.” He glared at Brian. The look of glee on the guy’s face made Flynn’s fingers twitch. “I want to hit him.”
Michael’s eyes were hard as he stared at the producer. This wasn’t the first time the team had dealt with the man. “We all do. Call your people. Just don’t hit the guy on air. No matter how tempting it is.”
Flynn took a deep breath. His old teammate was right. Flynn losing his cool would just make better TV. He needed to end this. Not help it along. With a grunt of frustration, he grabbed his phone and made the call.
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