“Hey, he shoved the fucking camera in my face. Not just close to my face, but
in
my face. What was I supposed to do—say ‘Cheese’ and smile for him?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what you were supposed to do. Or turn around and walk away. You need to learn to control your temper and be taught how to behave in public. You need some lessons on how to interact with the media.”
Cole snorted. “I think I know how to handle myself just fine.”
Liz tapped her foot, though how she managed to stay upright on those five-inch heels was beyond him.
“And if you recall, when I agreed to take you on as a client—mainly because no other agent wanted to be within five miles of you—and I managed to somehow get you signed with St. Louis, you agreed to do anything I asked of you.”
He thought that meant the slightly painful salary cut he had to take. At least Liz was savvy enough to put performance bonuses in the contract. He’d show them he wasn’t washed up. He was still an ass kicker and this season would prove it. “I did what you asked, didn’t I?”
“Oh, the salary cut was just the beginning, Cole. Your image is toast. You know it, I know it, and Coach Tallarino knows it. If the coach wasn’t such a good friend of your cousin Mick—and if he didn’t owe me a few dozen favors, I guarantee you wouldn’t have this job.”
Cole wasn’t buying it. He’d been signed because he had talent and plenty of it. Agents liked to make threats to keep their players in line. He knew how this game was played.
“The clock is ticking. It’s only a matter of time before no one will touch you, no matter how good you are on the field. You’re a PR nightmare.”
He stood and faced Liz, doing exactly what she said he wasn’t capable of. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his temper under control. “I’m a damn good wide receiver.”
“That might be true, but until you stop the nonsense off the field and prove to the coach, your team, the media, and the general public that you’ve grown up and your bad-boy days are over, it doesn’t matter if you score ten touchdowns a game. Reputation is everything in football.”
He blew out a sigh. Why couldn’t his stats be enough? What difference did it make what he did during his off hours? So he liked to party a little. So what? His bad rep was the media’s fault anyway. He was thirty years old and still at the top of his game. After six years in the NFL, he’d damn well earned the right to relax and enjoy life.
But yeah. PR. He understood. And if he had to toe the line for a while until he got in the good graces of the fans and the coach, that’s what he’d do.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I’m bringing in someone to help you.”
He frowned “Who?”
The door opened and Savannah walked in. Relieved to see her, Cole grinned, glad he hadn’t lost the opportunity to spend more time with her.
“Hey. I was wondering where you’d wandered off to,” he said.
“You two know each other?” Liz asked.
“Yeah. We met earlier.” Cole turned to Liz and frowned. “You know Savannah?”
Liz’s lips lifted. “As a matter of fact I do. And you’re going to get to know her a lot better. Savannah is your new image consultant.”
He pivoted and looked at Savannah, who gave him a serene smile.
“
My
image consultant? What the fuck?”