I stand in front of the golden elevator doors, watching as the white light flashes across the top, showing an elevator on the move. It’s coming down fast. My heart beats in tempo with the lights. Slow and steady.
“Are you ready for this, man?” Novy says at my left, balancing a box in his hands. “You make a good forward, I won’t lie. But this feels like an enforcer move. You sure you have what it takes?”
“I’m ready,” I reply.
“He’s ready,” Sully says at my other side, holding the other box.
The elevator dings, and the golden doors slide open, revealing an empty car. We all step in, me, Novy, and Sully to the back. Morrow, Karlsson, and Jake follow.
“We’ll catch the next one,” Sanford calls.
I nod, taking a deep breath.
“What floor?” says Morrow.
“Seven,” I reply.
He jabs the number, and the car rattles to life, rising in the air.
“You’ve got this,” Sully says on my right. “This ends today. Finish strong.”
I nod again.
The elevator dings, and the doors slide open once more. The guys and I pile out. I take the lead, glancing around the stylish atrium. A pair of Barbie-looking young women sit at a long reception desk. Their eyes go wide with interest as they take us in. I can only image what they think seeing six professional hockey players flood their lobby.
“Good morning,” the blonde on the left chimes. “Welcome to Powell, Fawcett, and Hughes Consulting Group. What can we do for you to today?”
I give her my most crowd-winning smile. Tess calls it my ‘bubblegum ad’ smile, all flashy teeth and flirty eyes. “Good morning. We’re here to see Mr. Troy Owens. I believe he’s expecting us.”
“Oh…umm…” She looks down at her computer screen, tapping a few keys and clicking her mouse. “I don’t see any appointments for Mr. Owens this morning.”
“Well, that is definitely a mistake,” I reply, batting my lashes a bit. “I had to fly on a plane to get here today. I’m sure the date and time are correct.”
“Oh, well…”
“I don’t think I caught your name,” I say, leaning my elbow on the desk.
“It’s Katie,” she says with a smile.
“We’re both Katie, actually,” the blonde to the right says.
“You two should do a Doublemint commercial,” I tease, and they both laugh. Yeah, they can’t resist the full Ryan Langley smolder. They’re already breaking; I can see it in their eyes.
“Are you guys athletes?” Katie Two says, glancing from me to the others.
“Are we that transparent?” I reply.
“You’re looking at the starting line of the Jacksonville Rays NHL team,” Novy says, giving her a sexy wink. “And yes, we are more handsome in person. Damn cameras always add five pounds.”
Both girls giggle.
I lean closer. “Troy is an old friend of ours. We hit the links together. So why don’t you go tell him that we’re here, and see if he can’t fit us into his busy schedule?”
“I’ll go,” says Katie Two, getting up from her chair.
Katie One nods at her, her cheeks blushing as Jake steps up to my other side. “It’ll be even more fun if you just tell him there’s a surprise waiting,” he calls to Katie Two. “Let’s see the look on his face when he sees us all here.”
Katie Two flashes him a smile over her shoulder, disappearing down a hallway.
I step back from the desk, taking a breath.
“That was easier than we planned,” Sully says.
Behind us, the elevator dings, and the doors open. Out comes Sanny, Mars, and MK.
“Oh, shit. It’s showtime,” Novy mutters.
I spin around to see Katie Two leading the way back down the hall, Troy at her side. He’s dressed to impress in his Brooks Brothers day look, that dark hair slicked back.
“Ta-da,” Katie Two says with a wave of her hand, an excited look on her face.
Troy pauses, holding my gaze, a thousand emotions flashing on his face. The one he settles on is rage as he marches forward, pushing past Katie Two. “What the hell are you doing here?” he shouts. “This is my place of business. Get out.” He points at the elevators.
The two Katies watch behind the desk with wide eyes. I know, behind me, at least a few of my guys have their phones out, recording everything.
“This is private property,” Troy says. “You all need to leave. Now.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” I reply. “And you said all you needed to say in Jacksonville. Now it’s my fucking turn.”
“Damn right,” Sanford says.
“Tell him, Langley,” Sully adds at my side.
A few people peek their heads out of the offices.
“Katie, call security,” Troy orders.
As one, Novy and Sully step forward and tip their boxes over. The Katies gasp as the floor is littered with a rain of confetti from one box and pictures from the other. The grainy photos of Tess and I from the last several weeks go sliding across the shiny floor. I pulled out all the graphic ones, but the effect is the same.
The Katies both stand, peering over the desk to look at the mess. The people who were peeking out their doors are now moving down the hall, curious to know what’s happening. Good. I want an audience for this.
“Recognize your handiwork?” I say, gesturing at the mess. “The divorce papers you shredded and delivered on Tess’s doorstep? How about the illegal photos you had taken of us for weeks?”
Troy huffs, arms folded across his chest. “This is all bullshit. We fired Tess for breaking our morality clause. She’s a messy whore. Who’s to say where the hell these photos came from?” he says, gesturing at them with a sneer. “You surely can’t trace them back to me.”
“You think so?” I challenge. “Maybe you haven’t heard that we caught your peeping Tom photographer friend yesterday.”
Troy blinks, his gaze darting from my face to the guys, looking for confirmation.
I step forward, crossing my arms too. “Yeah, he was set up real cozy in the back bushes, ready to get more shots for you. He sold you out, Troy.”
A flicker of worry crosses his face, but he quickly recovers. “You’re just trying to entrap me. You want me to admit to something we both know I didn’t do.”
I flash him an incredulous look. “Entrap you? What, are you some kind of Bond hero now? Troy, you’re a third-rate lawyer working at your mommy’s firm. You barely close three mil a year in deals. I make that just with my endorsements,” I taunt. “You’re a shit businessman and an even worse con man. You’re pathetic. Is it any wonder she left you?”
Troy simmers with rage now, and I have to admit, this feels kind of good. But he’s a narcissist through and through, so this is all fleeting. He’ll blink this away and go back to playing the righteous victim within the hour.
“And we can’t forget about this,” I say, pulling a new copy of the restraining order from my pocket.
He smirks. “And what is that? Why don’t you open it and read it out for us.”
“You got sloppy,” I say, ignoring his jab. “You processed this TRO in Tess’s name against me, acting as her legal counsel. You have no proof I was stalking or harassing her, and she’s already contesting it. You manipulated your position into getting this approved, didn’t you? Does Mommy know you’re trading on her name to get judges to approve baseless TROs against the wife you like to batter?”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Troy counters. He glances around, glaring at the faces of his colleagues who all regard him warily. “He’s just some dumb hockey player. He doesn’t understand anything—”
“I don’t,” I admit, cutting him off. “But he does.” I gesture behind me to MK. “Troy, meet my sports agent. He’s a lawyer who’s actually good at his job.”
MK steps forward and gives Troy an awkward wave. “Hiya. Mike Kline, Elite Athlete Management.”