Chapter: 1
Gemma Moretti
“Gemma,” my boss called.
I looked up from my phone.
Mrs. Page had called me into her office first thing this morning, and judging by the smile on her face, she had something good for me.
“Morning, Mrs. Page.”
“We have a huge opportunity with a potential client, and I want you involved.”
I sat up straighter.
“Who is it?”
Her smile widened.
“Cameron Rhodes.”
My brows shot up.
“The Cameron Rhodes?”
“The very one.”
Holy shit.
Everyone knew Cameron Rhodes.
The guy was a hell of a shortstop, and the news of his trade to the North Haven Kings had been everywhere.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “That’s definitely huge.”
“It gets better.”
Mrs. Page slid a folder across her desk.
I picked it up, immediately recognizing the picture clipped to the front.
Dark hair. Green eyes. Kings information already printed beneath his name.
“He’s looking for new representation.”
My eyes snapped to hers.
“No shit.”
She laughed.
“That was pretty much my reaction.”
I opened the folder.
I’d been with Vantage long enough to understand what an opportunity like this could mean.
Not just for the company.
For me.
This was my chance to prove that Gemma Moretti hadn’t gotten anywhere because of her last name.
I’d earned my place here.
And I was damn good at what I did.
“When do we meet him?”
“Two days from now.”
“He’s already here in North Haven?”
She nodded.
“His schedule is insane right now. He’s getting settled, meeting with the Kings, dealing with the press surrounding the trade. His people agreed to give us an hour.”
An hour.
I could work with an hour.
“What do you need from me?”
“I want you in the room.”
My head lifted.
Mrs. Page smiled.
“You’ve earned it, Gemma.”
Something warm settled in my chest.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
Well.
That didn’t sound promising.
I narrowed my eyes.
She leaned back in her chair.
“We aren’t the only agency he’s meeting with.”
“Didn’t think we would be.”
A player like Cameron Rhodes probably had every sports agency in the country crawling up his ass right now.
“Apex is going after him.”
I froze.
Oh.
For fuck’s sake.
Mrs. Page noticed immediately.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t a nothing face.”
I closed the folder.
“Apex is fine.”
Her brows lifted.
I sighed.
“Beck works there.”
Recognition crossed her face.
“Storm?”
“Unfortunately.”
She laughed.
I tried not to.
Failed.
Because of fucking course Beck Storm would somehow be involved.
Our families had known each other forever.
I’d known Beck before either of us knew what a sports agent even was.
And I’d spent most of those years wanting to strangle him.
He was arrogant.
Competitive.
Annoying as hell.
And he had this ridiculous habit of calling me Gems because he knew I hated it.
At least, I told him I hated it.
Those weren’t necessarily the same thing.
“So this could get interesting,” Mrs. Page said.
I looked at her.
“No. It won’t.”
Her smile widened.
“It already sounds interesting.”
“It’s Beck.”
“Exactly.”
I rolled my eyes and stood, taking Cam’s folder with me.
“I’ll start going through everything.”
“Gemma?”
I stopped at the door.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let knowing someone at Apex distract you from why you’re there.”
I almost laughed.
She clearly didn’t know Beck very well.
“Oh, it won’t.”
If anything, knowing Beck Storm was sitting on the other side of this deal made me want it more.
I stepped into the hallway and pulled out my phone.
I probably should’ve left it alone.
Been professional.
Mature.
Focused.
Instead, I opened his contact.
Storm.
I smiled and started typing.
Me: Heard you’re trying to get Rhodes.
His response came less than a minute later.
Storm: Shouldn’t you be working?
I snorted.
Me: I am.
Storm: Doesn’t look like it.
Asshole.
Me: This is work.
I waited a beat.
Then sent one more.
Me: See you soon, Storm. 😘
I slipped my phone into my pocket before he could answer.
Maybe Mrs. Page was right.
This could get interesting.
Beck and I had competed over stupid shit our entire lives.
Grades.
Games.
Who could run faster.
Who could beat the other at whatever ridiculous challenge one of us came up with.
But we’d never competed when it actually mattered.
Never when our careers were on the line.
Never when winning could change everything.
I glanced down at Cameron Rhodes’s name on the folder.
Well.
There was a first time for everything.
And Beck Storm?
He’d better be ready.
Because I wasn’t planning on losing.
By the time I made it back to my office, I already had a plan.
Research.
Lots of it.
I sat down, opened my laptop, and pulled up everything I could find on Cameron Rhodes.
Stats.
Interviews.
Contracts.
Brand deals.
Social media.
Anything that could tell me what he wanted beyond playing baseball.
Because that was the part people missed.
Anyone could walk into a room with numbers and tell an athlete how much money they could make.
That wasn’t enough.
You had to understand the person behind the jersey.
Cam had spent his entire professional career with the same organization before the trade.
That caught my attention.
I clicked into another article.
Four years.
Drafted by them.
Worked his way through their system.
Made his major league debut there.
And now he’d been traded to North Haven.
“Damn,” I whispered.
This wasn’t just a player changing teams.
His entire life had been uprooted.
New city.
New clubhouse.
New expectations.
And now he was considering changing representation too.
I grabbed my notebook and wrote two words.
Fresh start.
I circled them.
That was my angle.
Not money.
Not endorsements.
Not promising to turn him into some massive brand.
Cameron Rhodes was already a star.
He didn’t need Vantage to make him one.
He needed someone who understood what came next.
My phone buzzed.
I glanced at it.
Storm: You seem awfully confident for someone who’s about to lose.
I smiled.
There he was.
Me: Shouldn’t you be working?
A few seconds passed.
Storm: I am.
I laughed.
Asshole stole my answer.
Me: Doesn’t look like it.
His response came almost immediately.
Storm: Cute, Gems.
My smile slipped.
Not because I was annoyed.
Okay.
I was annoyed.
Mostly.
Me: Don’t call me that.
Storm: You’ve been telling me that since you were twelve.
Me: And yet you still haven’t learned.
Storm: I’ve learned. I just don’t care.
I shook my head.
Same Beck.
Always had to get the last damn word.
I put my phone facedown and went back to my laptop.
A press conference from yesterday had been uploaded.
Perfect.
I clicked it.
Cam appeared behind a microphone wearing a Kings cap for the first time.
The navy looked strange on him compared to the uniform I’d seen him wearing for years.
Camera shutters went off around him.
Someone asked how he felt about the trade.
Cam leaned toward the microphone.
“Wasn’t exactly expecting to pack my entire life into boxes this week.”
A few people laughed.
He smiled too.
Easy.
Relaxed.
But there was something underneath it.
He wasn’t pissed.
He wasn’t devastated.
But he didn’t look completely settled either.
Another reporter asked about joining the Kings.
“I’m excited. They’ve got a hell of a group here.”
“Have you met the guys yet?” someone else asked.
“Some of them.”
His smile changed.
“Brooks Madden has already informed me that I’m boring, so we’re off to a good start.”
I laughed.
I’d heard of Brooks Madden too.
Everyone had heard of Brooks Madden.
Usually for reasons that had very little to do with baseball.
Cam continued.
“Crew’s been great. Holloway too. Cole won’t stop talking, but I’m told that’s normal.”
Someone behind the cameras yelled something.
Cam laughed.
“Yeah, you, Cole.”
I paused the video.
There they were.
Not just names on a roster anymore.
His new teammates.
His new life.
And if I wanted Cam to trust Vantage with it, I needed to understand all of it.
I reached for my notebook again.
Then my phone buzzed.
I ignored it.
Another buzz.
I sighed and flipped it over.
Storm: Dinner tonight?
My fingers stopped.
Well.
That wasn’t what I expected.
I stared at the message.
Then another appeared.
Storm: Our parents are getting together. Mom said you’re supposed to be there.
Oh.
Of course.
Because apparently competing against each other for one of the biggest clients either of us had ever gone after wasn’t enough.
Our families had to make sure we still saw each other outside of work too.
I typed back.
Me: I’ll be there.
His answer came instantly.
Storm: Good. Try not to talk about how badly you’re going to lose all night.
I rolled my eyes.
Me: Fuck you.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Appeared again.
And finally.
Storm: Careful, Gems.
I stared at the screen.
My stomach did something weird.
No.
Absolutely not.
I locked my phone and tossed it onto my desk.
“Asshole.”
I turned back to Cameron Rhodes.
That was what mattered.
Cam.
Vantage.
My career.
Not Beck Storm.
Definitely not Beck Storm.
And especially not whatever the hell he’d meant by careful.
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