not in trouble with the police.” Lexi took notes as he went over the situation. “Anyway, as usual I’m stuck out of town and was hoping you could knock some sense into the kid.”
“Sure, happy to do it.”
“Great. He can be at my office later this morning if your schedule permits you to meet him there. Oh, and I’ve told my executive assistant, Donna, to cut you a check for last week and today.”
“Kyle, you’re my kind of client.”
“Hey, you dropped what you were doing for me at the last minute, so the least I can do is pay you quick.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. So give me the address for your office.” Her eyes went wide as he told her. “Are you kidding me?”
“Why would I kid about my address?”
“You’re not gonna believe this, but we’re in the same building!”
“Are you kidding me?”
“That’s my line. Anyway, you’re one floor up from me.”
“Damn, small world. We both share office space in the same dump.”
“No argument here,” she said with a sigh.
“The rent’s cheap and since I just went out on my own, I have to keep expenses down,” he explained.
“Same story here, so I know where you’re coming from.”
“Well, I guess I won’t have to reimburse you for a cab fare.”
She laughed. “Yeah. Anyway, I’ll wander upstairs in a couple of hours and make your problem go away.”
“Thanks, Lexi, I cannot thank you enough. One of these days I’ll do it in person.”
***
Lexi took the stairs, since Kyle’s office was only one flight up. Besides, the elevator in the old building was always an adventure, and the standing joke was that if the hamster fell off the treadmill that powered the ancient thing you’d get stuck.
She found the door marked “Caruso Agency”, which turned out to be right over her own office. She entered the office and found a sharp-looking thirty-something brunette manning the reception desk. The woman looked up and smiled as she stood up and extended her hand. “I’ll bet you’re Lexi. I’m Donna, Kyle’s executive assistant.”
Lexi shook her hand. “So nice to meet you, Donna.” Though she hadn’t met Kyle, he certainly had good taste in assistants. The woman was petite, maybe five-two, with huge brown eyes, high cheekbones and long, wavy mahogany hair down to the middle of her back. Very exotic. Very Italian. “So, where’s the guy I’m here to fix?”
“Every woman’s dream, huh? And you get paid to do it. Right this way.” Donna led her into a small meeting room occupied by a large blonde man, who was busy staring at his cell phone. “This is Franklin Jessup. Franklin, this is Lexi Harlow, the woman Kyle sent over for you.”
The guy looked up from his phone and stood up, towering over both women, and built like a Coke machine. “Nice to meet you.”
Lexi looked up at the hulk. “You might not think so when we’re done.”
“Can I get you anything to drink?” asked Donna.
Lexi sat at the small round table. “Big glass of water, thanks.” She gestured to the chair opposite her. “Have a seat, Franklin. So, you’re in trouble for your tweets and Facebook posts.”
The guy exhaled as he sat down with a hangdog look. “Yeah. I’ve been getting into arguments with fans and I guess some people took my last tweet the wrong way and got offended. I was just joking around. Coach fined me and then called Mister Caruso. Mister Caruso told me I should do exactly what you tell me to do.”
“Why don’t you just stay off the Internet?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I’m addicted, like most young people. Fans start saying hurtful things about me and I have to fight back.”
“Actually, you don’t. Do you go into the stands and fight the fans when they boo you on the field?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you shouldn’t do it online. It’s nothing more than digital road rage, like flipping the bird at someone from your car.” Donna returned and slid the glass of water next to Lexi, then leaned against the wall to listen. “Are all your accounts logged in with apps?” She pointed at his phone.
“Yeah. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat.”
Lexi reached across the table and grabbed the phone. “Franklin, you need a cleanse to fix your problem.”
“What, like drinking juice all day?”
“Nope. Social media cleanse.” She tapped his phone a few times. “Okay, that takes care of Twitter.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just deleted your account.”
His eyes went wide. “Why would you do that? I had thousands of followers!”
“So you won’t get in any more trouble. By the way, you’ve got seventy thousand real followers in the stadium stands and millions more on TV every Sunday.” She tapped the phone a little more. “Okay, hasta la vista Facebook.”
“No!”
A few more taps. “And it’s sayonara to Instagram. Say bye-bye to Snapchat.”
The player bit his lower lip as Lexi continued to tap on his phone. Then she turned it over, opened it, and pulled out the SIM card. “What are you doing now?”
“First, you owe me fifty bucks.”
“For what?”
She reached in her purse and pulled out a simple flip phone. “Your new phone.” She opened the back and slid the SIM card inside, then closed it and slid it over to Franklin.
He opened it and shook his head. “No way. This is one of those phones for old people with the big numbers. All it does is make calls.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” She took his smartphone, held it over the glass of water and dropped it in.
“What the hell did you do that for?”
“So you can’t get in trouble. You wanna talk to someone, or someone wants to talk to you, you now have this wonderful thing called a telephone call. No more social media, no more texting. You are cleansed and off the grid. And therefore… wait for it…”
“I can’t get in trouble.”
“Very good. So what’s more important, Franklin… your cell phone and playing on the Internet or your career and keeping your coach and fans happy?”
He
