Free Mad Season by Katia Wildermann Page A

wicked grin.
    Adam's own suit was not custom-made, but he still fit into the suit he'd bought to celebrate the roll-out of his first big game at the Global Gaming Convention a few years ago. Black, with a white shirt and red tie, he'd always figured he looked like a rogue MIB.
    He wished the others hadn't vetoed his idea about them all wearing black Ray Bans, but given the attention they'd garnered on the way over here, he knew they looked like a force to be reckoned with.
    Which they were, dammit.
    Kincaid was the first to speak as they came to a stop in front of his broad desk, and Adam had to admit the guy was a cool customer.
    "Ms. Mason," he said. "Mr. Reed. Nice of you to join us today." His gaze flicked toward Adam, but nobody bothered with introductions, as planned. He got to play the part of the Mystery Man, and he loved it.
    "Dean," Lyla said, deliberately dispensing with formalities. "Daniel. We don't have a lot of time." She checked her delicate wristwatch for emphasis. "You're going to listen to what we have to say, and then you will have a decision to make."
    "Excuse me?" Masters said, but Kincaid lifted his hand, a small smile playing on his lips.
    "By all means," Kincaid said, waving a hand for them to pull up chairs. He had three chairs in front of his desk, and both Lyla and Cal sat, leaning forward on the edge of the chairs. Masters reluctantly returned to the third chair, and Kincaid returned to his seat, too.
    Adam remained standing behind Lyla's chair, trying to channel the demeanor of a Secret Service agent.
    "This morning you indicated that I'd failed at my job," Lyla began in that direct manner of hers that Adam loved so much. "I may have failed to maintain a professional distance, but as you can see, my job is well in hand. Mr. Reed already looks the part of a man who is serious about his image." Here she turned to give Cal a sweet smile. "We have spoken in depth about his goals, and I was delighted to learn that he has a sincere desire to make himself an asset not only to any sponsors that may step up, but to society in general."
    Cal leaned forward earnestly, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. "I was lost, without direction," he said. "I've always fought because I figured there was nothing else a dumb hick like me could do. I never finished school, couldn't hold a job. If it hadn't been for Trevor, I'm sure I would have ended up in prison."
    They had considered inviting Trevor to sit in on this, but after Cal discussed it with him, Trevor decided that letting Cal show some independence from his trainer was a good thing. Trevor would be at the MGM later.
    "I'll admit, when I came in here yesterday, I wasn't so sure about the whole idea of letting a PR firm dictate who I am. I've always been honest, with the public and with my fans. I didn't want any stuffed shirt putting his hand up my ass and turning me into a puppet. Frankly, if I had only met you two, I would have walked right back out that door."
    Cal let that sink in for a minute.
    "Red.... Lyla understood where I'm from before I ever opened my mouth. She did her homework, and then she did the most amazing thing. She listened to me, and not just to what my mouth was saying." He did grin, now. "Even though my mouth was begging her to let me do anything other than shop for clothes, if you know what I mean, she heard more than just the words about smacking her ass while she rode me like a cowgirl."
    Masters cleared his throat, but Cal held up a beefy hand, asking to continue. "Yes, she did eventually give in to me, and we both realized that we were crossing a line. Well, she realized it way before I did. But what I'm trying to get to is that she understood something about me that I have never known how to put into words. She gave me a name for something I have been dealing with all my life without the tools to combat it. She understood that I have been fighting in the ring because I couldn't fight a learning disability I