in the right field.”
“Marshall will be a hard one to crack. He won’t let anyone get within a mile of Khari. He thinks someone’s going to cheat his son.”
Sage laughed. Nudging him playfully with her shoulder, she teased, “You’re not scared of him, are you, boss man?”
“You wouldn’t be laughing if you knew what Khari’s projected net worth will be once he turns pro.” Glancing over his shoulder to ensure no one was listening, he dropped his deep baritone to a whisper. “Fifty million.”
Sage was glad she was sitting down. If she had been standing, she would have tumbled forward and knocked herself unconscious when she hit the gymnasium floor. “Fifty million dollars,” she repeated, her voice rising with excitement. “At your standard twenty-percent fee and agency costs, you stand to make almost three million bucks!”
Licking his lips, he adjusted his crisp marine-blue tie. “You’re quick on your feet, Collins. I haven’t done the math yet, but that sounds about right.”
“Mind if I take a peek at the scouting report?” she asked, swiping the document from his briefcase. While Leo droned on about Khari’s baseline jumper, Sage slowly perused the five-page document. This kid was destined for greatness and she wanted a piece of the action. All she needed was an in. Something to endear her to Khari and his family. Something to help her stand out from all the other agents. Soon, Indianapolis would be crawling with slick-talking managers promising cars, cash and favors. It was imperative she do something while they still had a lead.
Sage raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of her lips. There it was in black and white. Her in…
It was something so small, so insignificant, she’d almost missed it. “I can get to Khari,” she announced.
“Right, and I can change water into wine.”
“I’m serious, Leo.”
“What are you going to do? Seduce the kid with your womanly wiles? Forget it, Sage. Leave this to a pro.”
“Are you forgetting that I was the one to sign Hailey Hope, A-Town Boys, and a long list of other up-and-coming teen stars?”
“But that was years ago. You haven’t brought any new clients to the agency in months. And from where I’m sitting, that’s bad for business.”
The sting of his retort cut like a blade. Leo was right. There was a time when she was the celebrity manager to watch. But these days Sage just didn’t have it in her to schmooze. Traveling between Vegas and L.A. on a weekly basis was taxing, and although it was only an hour flight, it cut into her workday. Keeping her existing clients happy was difficult enough without the added pressure of having to court other celebrities; but all that was about to change. Signing the next basketball phenom would catapult her into the spotlight, and it wouldn’t be long before other superstar athletes were beating down her office door.
“Give me a week.”
Leo raised his eyebrows. “You think you can sign Khari Grant in seven days?”
“Maybe less, but I didn’t want to sound overconfident—even though I am.”
“Sorry, Sage, I can’t do it. You mess this up and there goes my million-dollar commission. I’ll handle this one myself, but the next case is all yours.”
“Please, Leo. I’m begging you. My career needs this. Hell, I need this.”
His answer was a firm “no.”
“Like I said, I’ll see to it that the next client who signs on at the agency belongs to you.”
Low-spirited but convinced she could successfully expand into the sports market, Sage searched for the right words. Her sharp mind and boundless creativity had been her springboard to success and would one day help make Sapphire Agency the best in the business. “What if I sweetened the deal? If, I mean, when, I sign Khari, I’ll split the commission with you.”
Wearing a contemplative expression, Leo stroked his pointy jaw. “I don’t know. I have a lot riding on this. If you blow it, it’ll ruin any chance I have of signing him.”
“I know what I’m doing, Leo. Trust me.” Sage batted her lashes for good measure and flipped her silky hair over her shoulders. Playing the beauty card was beneath her, but she was desperate. “All I need is seven days.”
Several agonizing moments went by. Then, Leo gave her the nod. “Okay, I’ll give you a chance to prove you’ve still got that Collins magic. Don’t mess this up,” he warned, eyeing her sternly. “There’s a ton of money at stake!”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.”
“You have one week and not a second more.”
Sage winked. “That’s all I need.”
Chapter 2
Adjusting her baggy gray cardigan, Sage stared down pitifully at the white blouse underneath. Worried Marshall might recognize her, she’d ditched her designer threads for glasses, polyester pants and penny loafers. Scratching the itch on her forearm, she expelled the bitterness clogging her lungs. Sage didn’t need the Fashion Police to spring from the bushes to know she looked awful. No makeup, no jewelry, hair hidden under a thermal cap. If her girlfriends could see her now, they’d fall over laughing. If it wasn’t mentioned in Vogue, Sage didn’t give it a second glance. But this wasn’t about winning a fashion contest or getting some guy’s attention. She had a job to do, and nothing, not even wearing used clothes and dollar-store perfume, was going to deter her from signing Khari Grant.
According to the scouting report, Marshall Grant was generous with his time and money. In addition to his at-risk youth center, he was the conditioning coach of the Westchester Academy basketball team, did regular talks at inner-city schools and delivered groceries to seniors. Reading about Marshall had sparked her imagination and given her a foolproof plan. All she had to do was deliver her spiel and let him do the rest.
As Sage climbed the steps, she felt her conscience prick her with the pin of truth. Assailed by doubts, she took a moment to rethink what she was about to do. Some might say posing as a volunteer was a cruel, unconscionable scheme. Booting the thought from her mind, she pressed the doorbell. Bringing attention to the plight of needy children could never be a bad thing, even if she did have ulterior motives. Her words breathed confidence. What she was doing was a good thing. A very good thing. Commendable even. Pleased that her plan would benefit the less fortunate, she made a mental note to talk to all of her friends and clients about sponsoring a child in Haiti.
While she waited for someone to answer the door, she took in her surroundings. The lawn was edged with shrubs and trimmed bushes. Mature oak trees shielded the windows from intrusive sunlight and, aside from a few scattered leaves, the lush, landscaped yard was litter-free. Sage could hear dogs barking, but the neighborhood was surprisingly quiet.
Sage patted back a yawn. It hadn’t been easy finding the place. All of the streets in Meridian Hills looked the same, and she’d wasted an hour driving around searching for Marshall’s address. A kindly dog walker had pointed her in the right direction and ten minutes later she pulled her rental car up to 73 Irvington Lane.
Battling a mixture of fear and anxiety, she jabbed the
