Free Bedding the Bad Boy (Bad Boys of Football Book 1) by Clementine Roux, Penelope Silva

did all day long. After my morning run, I had to check in with my manager, make some phone calls, pose for some photos, then, deal with this damn court appearance. Hopefully, by then, Isla and my attorneys will have completed the grunt work and I could get on with my life. I didn’t need this headache. How did I go from being minutes away from banging two women to having to face off with the district attorney in court?
    I tried to push the nonsense out of my mind so I could focus on the road under my feet and the air on my face. I loved the freedom. When I was growing up, I didn’t have a whole lot, but I had my mother and grandmother and the freedom to run around. We didn’t have money to buy fancy shoes or fancy clothes or toys, but running outside was the ultimate reward for the kind of life we lived.
    “Heading out?” Frank tipped his hat at me.
    “Time for my morning run. Where’s Hannah?” I asked, referring to my assistant.
    I could always tell when Frank was hiding something. Most of the time, it had something to do with my dense assistant. She was good for signing my name on fan photos or footballs, but her promptness left a lot to be desired. Sometimes I wondered why I bothered to keep her on the payroll, then, I’d see her and those massive boobs shelved on top of what I used to think was the best body in the world, and I’d remember exactly why I kept her around. I’d never slept with her, but I had thought about it – a lot. 
    “Let me guess, she’s not here again,” I said, shaking my head.
    Frank nodded. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”
    We paused for a moment before busting out laughing. We both knew Hannah had no intention of showing up any time before noon. That’s how she operated. From what I understood from the team, she was Jared’s latest regular. I didn’t know and didn’t really care. All that mattered was, I was paying her to be here and she wasn’t.
    “Should I call her?” Frank asked.
    I slipped my shoes on. “You might want to call Jared. I can almost guarantee that’s who she is with.”
    I left Frank to it and went outside for my run, glad to not have to deal with the domestic stuff. I had people for those sort of things.
    Two blocks from home, my Bluetooth pinged. Annoyed by the interruption, I answered, “What?”
    There was a long pause.
    “Hello?” I yelled.
    “Hey, are you busy?”
    I didn’t recognize the voice on the other end. “Who is this?”
    “It’s Cassandra,” the female answered meekly.
    The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place where I’d heard it before. “The waitress at the tittie bar?” Visions of the buxom blonde flashed in my mind.
    She cleared her throat. “Um, no. I’m the one who might be able to stop my dad from prosecuting you. Can we talk?”
    Oh, shit!
    “What the hell? I mean, how you been? What’s going on?” I stopped running.
    “I need to see you. It’s important,” she answered.
    Didn’t she know we’d see each other in court later? Why did I need to see her now?
    “We have to be in court at two this afternoon,” I reminded her.
    She sighed. “Meet me at my apartment in an hour.”
    I wanted to protest, but my curiosity got the best of me. “What’s your address?” I asked as I turned to run back toward the house.
    When I got home, I didn’t bother to change. I was more concerned with why she needed to see me. The last I knew, Isla was in talks with my attorneys and the D.A.’s office to try to work out some kind of deal. What did this girl want to talk about?
    I scrolled through my phone as Frank pulled the car up front. I had three text messages from Isla.
    “How did I miss these? Why didn’t she call?” I read through them, but none of them gave me any clue as to what the emergency was. They were messages asking me to call her as soon as possible.
    Frank parked and stepped out to open the door for me.
    “Hold on; I have to make a phone call,” I said as I dialed Isla’s