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brUTUS

B rutus leaned back in the leather seat of the black town car, taking in the familiar sights of New York City through tinted windows. The driver, a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair who had introduced himself as Tony, glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

"Hey, aren't you Brutus Townsend?” Tony asked, recognition lighting his eyes.

"That's me," Brutus replied with a practiced smile.

"Man, it's an honor driving you today. Been following your career since college." Tony's enthusiasm was genuine. "Heard there's some talk about the offseason. You handling it okay?"

"Trying to stay focused," Brutus said. "It's been a rough few months."

"I get that. The media, they don't let up, do they?"

Brutus nodded, appreciating the man's understanding. "Part of the job."

They drove in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Tony spoke again. "There's always some chatter about the games."

"Yeah, but I try to stay out of that," Brutus said. "I prefer to keep things straightforward. Gambling's not my thing."

Tony nodded approvingly. "Smart man. Keeps you out of trouble."

"New York's got its ups and downs, much like anything else," Tony continued, navigating through the morning traffic with practiced ease.

"Yeah," Brutus agreed, gazing at the skyline. "Sometimes I'm glad to just keep my distance."

The car pulled up to a sleek office building in Midtown. Brutus thanked Tony and stepped out into the crisp morning air, straightening his tailored suit. Keith was waiting for him at the entrance, dressed similarly but with an expression that suggested he'd been up all night.

"Morning," Keith greeted him. "Ready for this?"

Brutus took a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever be."

They rode the elevator to the thirty-eighth floor in silence.

The doors opened to reveal a reception area adorned with modern art and minimalist furniture.

A woman in a crisp blazer led them to a conference room where people were already seated.

One of them was Pamela McMahon, the Chief Marketing Officer of Zelus.

“You’re a valuable member of the family, Brutus,” she said.

Total bullshit, but that was Pamela’s job.

“Which is why we wanted to have this chance to talk about the past few months, and what we can expect over the next year. As you know, this is the time where we like to put the finishing touches on our summer and fall advertising campaigns, and the prime time to figure out where we’re going with our football clients. ”

“So what would you like to know?” Brutus asked.

“Well obviously the first thing we’d like to know is if there’s going to be any more negative PR incidents,” Pamela said.

He had worked with Pamela before, and could appreciate this side of her. She shoveled out the bullshit by the bucket load, but when it was time to get down to business, she got to the point pretty quickly.

“Well, I’ve learned a lot in the past few months, and I’m trying to not only become a better football player, but a complete person,” Brutus admitted.

“What did you learn from the Army?” she asked curiously. “As a person?”

“I learned a lot about sacrifice, about hard work, and to be blunt, about both matter of fact arrogance and about humility,” Brutus answered.

“But we’ve heard,” Pamela said. “You’re dating one of the soldiers you trained with?”

Brutus bristled, his eyes narrowing. “And? I haven’t gone public about my personal relationships, this time or in the past.”

“Well, relationships and star athletes are always a challenge,” Pamela explained evasively, seeing Brutus’s reaction. “And there are costs and benefits of being in a relationship.”

“Wait.” Brutus held up a hand.

Inside he was boiling, wanting to slam his fist on the table and rage at these people. How dare they try and use his personal life, his relationships, as fodder for ad campaigns?

“Let me shut this down right here, right now. Yes, I’m in a relationship with a woman.

A wonderful woman, who I care for very much.

Her name is Linda, and yes, I hope the relationship continues and develops even deeper.

But my relationship with her is not, and will never be, a publicity stunt.

Nor is it anything for anyone to make a buck off of.

Before you ask, I’d tell the Pentagon the same damn thing if they approached me about this as well. ”

“Are you sure, Brutus?” Pamela insisted. “Zelus is really making a push into women’s wear, and-”

“And that’s not a question for me to answer, except to say that I seriously doubt Linda would agree even if you made her the offer,” Brutus said, his voice low and tinged with heat.

What the hell were these people even thinking, approaching him with this?

“Furthermore, Pamela, the Pentagon has rules about this sort of stuff, and her unit would not approve of her being a public person in any way. She’s a soldier, not a spokesmodel. Although I do wonder… how the hell did you all know about me and Linda anyway?”

Pamela reached over, and tapped at a tablet computer before sliding it across the table to Brutus. “Hate to tell you Brutus, but you are famous. And when you’re an All Pro linebacker, someone’s inevitably going to take pictures of you in public. These came out about half an hour ago.”

For the next hour, they discussed the photos of Brutus and Linda that had surfaced online. The pictures themselves were innocent enough—the two of them walking together in Central Park, sharing coffee at a small café—but they had sparked a flurry of speculation.

Brutus picked up the tablet, his gut dropping as he saw what Pamela was talking about. It was pictures of him, at the resort after Linda’s mission. Most of the pics were polite, taken from a distance as they walked along the paths, or sat out grabbing some sun.

But there were three pictures that weren’t so polite. One was the two of them kissing outside, while the other two were blurry photos that had obviously been zoomed in… through the window of the cabin.

“Fuck,” he muttered, sliding the tablet back across the table. His stomach roiled, and whatever good feeling he had evaporated in the light from the tablet. “How much do you guys know, and how much is in the dirt sheets already?”

“You might want to give this… Linda… a call,” Pamela replied. “While the reports we’ve seen haven’t named names, there’s enough out there that someone’s going to figure it out soon enough.”

Brutus leaned back in his chair, sighing. His first instinct was to tell Zelus to shove their contract up their ass, he didn’t need or want to be part of a company that was willing to dig into his private life. Exploit him as a football player? Fine. That came with putting on the uniform.

Exploit him as a person because he’s fallen in love? That was totally wrong.

But… this wasn’t the time to make a decision.

Instead, Brutus looked to his right, where Keith had a grave expression on his face. Keith could see Brutus’s feelings, and knew that a big check was on the line. “What do you want to do, Brutus?”

“Keith, after this, I’m going to need to make a phone call.”