Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Driving through the upper-middle-class neighborhood, I scoff at all the status symbols parked in the driveways of large, cookie-cutter houses. Why would people with the means to live anywhere choose a life of mimicry and a repulsive lack of originality? I pull up to Marissa’s white, two-story house with brown shutters and sigh. “At least this family got one thing right. How they managed to create such a perfect girl is beyond me.”
I’ve only taken two steps up the walkway before Marissa slips out the front door. She checks over her shoulder to make sure no one is behind her and then rushes toward me.
“Good afternoon. It’s four-fifty. Am I too early for our five p.m. meeting?”
“No. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. My parents were pissed when I told them that you came to the rec center this morning. They nearly lost their shit when they found out I invited you here after you pulled a stunt like that.”
“So, you came out to warn me because you want me to be your agent, right?” I grin.
“I didn’t say that. I’m just keeping my word.” She bats her eyes at me, and I feel the blood rush to my cock again.
“You want me. I want you. The deal is already done. Convincing your parents will be a walk in the park. Trust me.”
She leads me into the foyer, and I take a final look at myself in the gilded mirror. “You got this,” I whisper to myself and follow her into the den.
Her father is seated on the sofa with a laptop on his lap. His glasses dangle from the bridge of his nose, and he looks over them at us as we enter. I stand still, allowing him to visually consume me before offering an introduction. “Good afternoon, Mr. Graves. I appreciate you meeting with me like this. My name is….”
The man stands up and cuts me off, “You’re Malcolm Mason and you claim that you’re the only man who can get my daughter to Paris. Do I have that right?”
I scan the face of the well-groomed man in his mid-to-late forties and swallow hard. He’s not the first sweater-wearing blow-hard to try to dull my shine.
“You’re almost right. I am Malcolm Mason, but I don’t claim that I’m the only man who can get your daughter to Paris. I don’t make claims, Sir. I make guarantees and I guarantee you that I’ll not only get her to Paris but that I’ll make sure she wins the gold.”
“Do you have any idea how many other agents have made that same claim?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think you were paying attention. If you think back to what they said, none of them made any guarantees. They just fed you a buffet of compliments and flowery words followed by some theatrical hand gestures and an expertly woven scenario that starts with the words, ‘Imagine this.’”
He pauses, rests his chin on his open palm, and grins widely. “You’re right. I’m a man of action. I work with plans and schematics. Have a seat and lay out a specific, actionable plan for me, and we’ll see where we go from there.”
And just like that, I’ve got him exactly where I want him. “And your wife? Will she be joining us?”
“This isn’t really a matter that concerns her. Bethany isn’t Marissa’s mother. She’s my third wife. Marissa’s mother was my first.”
I glance over at my lovely girl and see a sadness in her eyes that almost puts a kink in my composure. It must have been hard growing up with her father’s revolving door of wives. Maybe swimming became her solace. It’s not uncommon for athletes to immerse themselves in their sports as a means of escaping the turmoil in their lives. Sometimes that’s what makes them great.
Marissa sits down beside her father, and I take the chair on the other side of the coffee table. I place my portfolio on the table and open the front cover, but I won’t be referring to it. I just want them to see the famous faces that I’ve turned into superstars over the past few years.
“Getting Marissa the gold is important, but it’s only the first step. As a man of means yourself, you know that her professional career is what will set her up for life. I have connections that will ensure she can easily transition into the entertainment industry immediately after her win…”
Marissa sits back with her arms crossed and marvels at how her father eats out of my hand. I suspect that she’s never seen anyone lead him by the nose the way I can, and she seems to be enjoying it.
By the time I finish my pitch, he sits back, crosses his arms, and nods. “Very impressive. I have to admit I wasn’t expecting anyone to come to us with such a well-thought-out plan.”