Free Santa's Pet by Rachelle Ayala

graduated from his college a few years back. It was too bad they weren’t in the playoffs like the Bridges were, or he would have had the gym to himself, at least on a Saturday night.
    “Hey, it’s Bamm-Bamm,” the all pro, Greg Marsh, said. “Can’t believe they let you out of jail.”
    “What happened? They couldn’t make it stick?” Josh Carter, the guy from his college, punched his shoulder.
    “Nope. They got nothing on me.” Ben zipped up his pants and pulled on a sweatshirt. “Love to chat, but gotta go.”
    “Why? Night’s young. We’re heading for the Strip Zone.” Josh leaned his elbow on Ben’s shoulder. “Between you and me, that elf’s nowhere as hot as the babes at the Zone.”
    “Yeah, all she has is a giant pair of knockers. You need to hang with us.” Greg chuckled. “When you go pro, you’ll have access to the best tits and ass on the planet.”
    Ben’s haunches bristled at the way they knocked Brittney down, as if she were only to be judged by her body. At the same time, it was useless to rile them up. After all, Greg was also a client of Dominique’s and depending on if there were room on the roster for another linebacker or not, they could possibly be teammates, or even better, cross-town rivals.
    “I’m calling it a night. You guys go ahead.” Ben pulled on his socks. “My agent wants me to be a good boy until this mess is cleared up.”
    “Word of advice,” Greg said. “Don’t let any cheap tramp anywhere near you. That’s why we stick to strippers. Their bosses keep them under control, if you know what I mean.”
    What was he talking about? How dare he call Brittney names?
    “Look, I really have to go.” Ben slipped on his shoes and stood. “Miss Reed is not a tramp. Her family owns the tree farm and she was helping out. This entire thing was a big misunderstanding.”
    “That’s not what your lawyer says.” Josh stared at his phone browser. “She says it’s a case of entrapment. The slut’s suing you for sexual harassment and wants a cut of your future earnings.”
    “What? Let me see.” Ben’s entire body glowed red hot.
    He swiped the phone from Josh and glared at the article headlined. “For shame. Should an elf dress like this?” Not only that, they’d included unflattering pictures of Brittney and referred to her in bovine terms with several jokes about her udder and running a dairy farm on her own.
    “This isn’t right.” Ben’s breath rasped as he scrolled through pages of comments calling Brittney a slut and a whore. “This isn’t what happened.”
    He shoved the phone at Josh, grabbed his gym bag, and rushed to his truck. Dammit. Hadn’t Dominique said she wouldn’t represent him if he didn’t respect women?
    Then why the hell was she allowing her sister to tar and feather Brittney? No woman deserved this treatment.
    Sitting in the cab of his truck, he searched for Brittney on the internet and his jaw hit the floorboards. She was the CEO of ScrapCloud, a multimedia social sharing company in a joint venture with Shopahol International, the world’s premiere shopping referral network. Add to that, Dave Jewell, the CEO of Shopahol, had come out in support of Brittney and was accusing his team of slut-shaming her.
    Hadn’t Delaine told him that was her strategy? Why hadn’t he stopped her? He’d been so angry and confused, in panic mode. But that wasn’t an excuse. He had to do something to stop the attacks on Brittney.
    Ben called Dominique on her cell phone. She didn’t pick up so he left a message.
    “Have you seen the trash they’re posting about Brittney Reed? Call off your sister right away and issue retractions, or I’m turning myself in to the police and pleading guilty.”

Chapter Nine
    ~ Brittney ~
    “No social media. Turn off those cell phones right now.” I hold up my hand as I walk into the Broken Build Bullpen and glare at the three programmers and the build engineer working on the new shopping feature called