Zero hated eating hotdogs in public. He hated admitting defeat even more. So as he stood outside The Octagon's offices waiting for his meeting with Carl Morgan, he was in a stinking foul mood. Even if seeing the old man was exactly what he needed to do to set the past and future right.
"Mr Morgan will see you now." Linda the same assistant Carl had had since the old days said gesturing to the door in a wide show of genuine hospitality.
He came to his feet adjusting his watch with summoned confidence.
"You look good Gideon." She was one of the few people other than his parents who called him by his birth name. "Not that you can't do without some more sleep. Unless the dark circles under your eyes are lying but you're still a handsome devil," she said with a warm smile and a flirty wink.
Obviously, she didn't hold a grudge over his leaving but Zero doubted Carl felt the same.
"You're looking mighty fine yourself Miss Linda. I hope the old man's treating you right?" he tilted his head charmingly into a slight country bow.
Linda shrugged with cheeks that were flushing at his words and care. "He hasn't changed a bit."
Zero accepted the cryptic answer. He'd learnt if he didn't pry into people's lives they wouldn't pry into his and his secrets either. But obviously, Carl was missing the dime right in front of him "Maybe if you loosened things around here." he suggested, with a bright lopsided smile and open arms.
"You may have a point." Her eyes narrowed, "The kids have been telling me the same."
The 'kids'.
Wrong damn word, Zero thought.
'The kids' as Linda had put it were not kids.
Carl's niece and Nephews were all grown. Intelligent, sociable and gorgeous human specimen he was more that hoping to work with because of their portfolios. He knew he'd be paired with one of them, but Zero was willing to work with only two out of the three of them.
Why?
Because Sophie knew her way around a locker room and could blot out testosterone charged conflict between athletes just fine. Steven was famous for being an expert with numbers and a marvel in PR. Both siblings basked in stellar reputations in the business and had qualities he was currently seeking for his newest and most ambitious business venture.
Honestly so did Jude, the middle sibling.
But Zero had his reasons for not wanting to work with Carl's gay nephew. He'd met Jude before when the kid was in college and on the arm of a pompous college football star.
Their eyes had met, held and the hit had been harder than any other he'd taken on the field. He'd known then, Carl's nephew meant trouble. And he knew Carl Morgan was very primitive when it came to his niece and nephews.
Without warning the intercom buzzed, Linda pressed the button and Carl roared with impatience. "Well is that son of a bitch coming in or he wants me old and grey in waiting?"
"You're already grey." Linda shot back.
Zero treated Linda to one of his dazzling cocky grins. Nobody had ever seen him sweat and he refused to start now even if he'd rather dealt physical agony than face the old man.
"He's still a bastard." Linda smiled as she let him through.
Zero smiled back, "Thanks ma'am." Then he strode inside the sterling silver decorated office.
Carl looked as imposing as before with his usual dark suit and just a few grey hairs sprinkling in his wild hair. "Hey, Pop," Zero used the nickname he'd adopted for Carl.
The other man scowled "Pop is reserved for family and friends, not lowlives, backstabbing snakes--"
Zero rolled his eyes plenty athletes left their agents and moved on, it happens really.
"I don't blame you for being pissed but lowlife snake? surely you can do better than that." he said pushing Carl's buttons on purpose. He wanted the old man to let it all out and during his wait, his heart pounded hard against his chest.
He'd missed the older man.
From the first day, they'd met, Carl had provided him all the praise and pride his own parents had withheld.
Zero's Heisman trophy, two super bowl rings, and hall of fame induction meant nothing to Phillip Bennett. In his father's embarrassed mind Zero was still a pathetic son who'd only graduated high school because his teachers looked the other way in deference to the school's athletic program.
And his mother stood by her man like a proper 'Proverbs 31 woman' and put all her efforts into the superficial. Creating the perfect home, being the perfect wife.
Cementing the perception of well...perfection.
Which he was far from.
And could never reach.
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