You: Bad Boy Rules, #1

By Shaunna Rodriguez

Piper:

She's got 3 Rules.... Rule #1 Never date or get involved with the client. 
Rule #2 Never develop feelings for the client.
Rule #3 There is never an exception to Rule's 1 & 2. 
Bad Boy Rules: 

#1- Never bring them home 
#2- Never fall in love 
#3- Never break rules 1 or 2

Connor:
He broke her heart ten years ago. He's back and her newest client and ready to break all the rules..... #BadBoyRules 

Cooper: 
They've been best friends since they were kids. He's not only one of her clients but her business partner & roommate. They have a no secrets rule only he's been keeping a huge one from her for years.... Connor's back in their lives and his sights are set on Piper. Cooper can't afford to bide his time or hide his feelings for her anymore but will telling her she's the only girl in the world for him and he's in love with her change everything? 

#BadBoyRules

• Language: English
• Publisher: Coffee & Cakes Publishing
• Release date: Jun 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393628125

Book preview

Prologue

When I was thirteen my parents were killed. Bryce and Brenda Blair were the people who took me in and let me live with them to finish high school as opposed to me going into the system as an orphan. I fashioned myself as a regular Nancy Drew at that age. I was determined to prove something sinister had happened to my parents because no one would give me a straight answer about what really happened. I constantly heard they were killed in a tragic accident. However, the Blair’s giving me their last name was a little puzzling if my parents had only been killed in an accident. Well, something sinister had happened and naturally it connects to me which should tell you how my life is about to go from there. Brenda Blair who was Brenda Donovan before she got married out of college to her high school sweetheart, had a best friend named Marni French. She married a man named Rhodri O’Neal. Well, I might not be Nancy Drew, but I can hang tough with April O’Neal like a regular investigative reporting ninja, watch out. Either way, I was the result of Marni and Rhodri O’Neal at the age of twenty. Fascinating, right? Yup, I thought so too. My father, as strange as this is going to sound, was a spy for the government. I know what you’re thinking, I had the same thoughts of it being impossible too. Fortunately for me, I guess you could say, they were tipped off that a list with my father’s name on it was leaked to the wrong people. My parents, Marni and Rhodri drove from Boston to New York when I was thirteen and hand delivered me to Brenda and Bryce, in the middle of the night. Guess it’s a good thing they’d remained super close after college. Apparently, Brenda and Bryce were in the business of taking in children of deceased parents. At thirteen, I was introduced to the other two teenagers living the Blair dream. Jonathan Connor McCarthy who preferred to be called Connor at the time and twenty-eight years later, still does. Together, Brenda and Bryce raised their son Aiden Cooper Blair and me, Piper Sloan Blair; yup, I got their last name to keep me protected and because you know, I’m a princess and need to fit in. And Connor made three with Aiden and me. Now, this little princess had two hockey playing, linebacker sized big brothers, as Bryce and Brenda referred to them as; to watch her back. They’re my best friends in the whole world, not so much as big brothers because then we’d have that whole yick, ick and gross factor going on. We even went to the same college together; Yale. But of course, that story comes later and will definitely be significant, I’m sure you’ll find. I’m grateful that I didn’t go through life thinking they were really my brothers by blood because being madly in love with two guys I share the same DNA with is a little, well, awkward. No, it’s just gross is what it is. So, I’m thinking you’re picking up on where this is going. If you guessed that I, Piper Blair, fell madly in love with two of the most gorgeous, baddest of the bad motorcycle racing, car racing, boat um borrowing, hockey playing boys on the planet, then yes, you’d be correct. I am Piper Blair, a twenty-eight-year-old Yale and Harvard graduate and one-half of Blair & Blair; a sports agency in New York. Here, I represent athletes from all over the country and I am damn good at what I do. I’m so good, Forbes just named me the number one agent in New York. *Wrist wiggle!* There’s one more thing you should know about me. Okay, three things and they go together. To be who I am and well, not to be conceded but look the way I do at five foot five with platinum blonde hair, blue eyes and legs I’m told are to die for, you’ll understand the rules. Most of my cliental are men, go figure. I rep the entire New York Reds hockey team, if that tells you anything. So here we go. Pay close attention because this is important.

---

Rule #1 Never date or get involved with the client.

Rule #2 Never develop feelings for the client.

Rule #3 There is never an exception to Rule’s 1 & 2.

For the last five years that I’ve been an agent these rules have worked out just fine for me. I’ve kept my mouth and my legs closed around my clients so as not to give them the wrong idea about our working relationship. However, the other half of Blair & Blair is, yup, you guessed it; Aiden Cooper Blair, the almost big brother and definite best friend. I’ve never told him how I felt. I mean, how awkward would that be? Plus, I’d lose him. He’s still the bad boy, playboy bachelor of New York. Just like Connor is for Los Angeles California; or he was until he recently made a move back to New York and as you guessed it, I’m his new damn agent. Lucky me. The only two men in the world who can make warmth pool between my thighs just by looking at me are living in my 5 th Avenue penthouse apartment. Lucky freaking me. Any other girl would kill to be me. Why am I not sharing their enthusiasm to be sharing a space, no matter how huge and luxurious it is with these two Neanderthals? Because having a relationship with them is out of the question. You give in and they’re gone. I could tell you I know this from the outside looking in for many years. But the truth is, I lived it. Yup, Piper Blair was a victim of the bad boy for life broken heart express…. Which, hang on, will come later, I promise. I will tell you that ten years later, I have never moved on, my heart still aches, and no one will ever compare to the man that took everything from me and I do mean that quite literally. So, prepare yourself to step into my world of #brokenhearts and #badboyrules. Bad boys for life, Jonathan Connor McCarthy and Aiden Cooper Blair, have the mentality that rules are made to be broken…. I have four words for them; come at me bro.

Chapter One

Now that you have a little background on the three of us, and trust me, you’ll get more background than you likely can handle at some point; lets fast forward some to where I’m standing right now. Loud music bases around me vibrating the floor where I’m standing. I can feel stickiness as I move across the unique floor that flashes with different colors in time with the music. As I walk, I’m questioning what is attaching itself to the bottom of my new, nearly two-thousand-dollar Christian Louboutin black Bianca booties. Ahead of me as the song Here Comes the Boom, appropriately plays. I can see fists flying along with pieces of wood from either a table being shattered or a chair, I haven’t decided given I’ve just arrived at the Midnight Club. I received a courtesy call from good friend and manager, Lorenzo. He gave me a heads-up that two of my players were in the midst of a brawl and the cops were on their way. So, as you could guess, I’m here to collect my boys and I do mean that quite literally. I’m dying to know how Connor, after only being back in New York for a week, is already tied to some damn scandal. It’d be just my luck. What’s more, his bad boy for life brother, Cooper, is right in the middle of the thick of things. So, I put my big girl panties on, AKA a black lace thong because who the hell wants panty lines with their jeans; and am now storming the castle prepared to take names for insurance and felony purposes and kick ass because that’s what they raised me to do. As I say this, I throw my elbow back smashing one incoming threat in the nose and send him flying backwards where I hear something shattering behind me. I cringe knowing that’s gonna be expensive to replace and just cannot wait to get my next itemized bill from Lorenzo. I am positive he keeps letting my players, and I do mean that quite literally and figuratively, back in here because he gets all new stuff every Friday night after someone disagrees on something sports related. For all I know, they were comparing the size of their dicks and someone got their wittle bitty feelings broken along with their nose, if I was a betting girl. As it happens, I am. I am damn good at Texas Hold ‘Em. I’d give myself a pat on the back only my hands are busy grabbing the guy’s head in front of me and slamming his abnormally large face over my delicate thigh which is pure muscle. I duck missing a flying elbow meant for the guy coming from my left. I jump into an eagle spread and kick both men backwards knocking them over chairs and tables as I continue forward thankful, I took years of self-defense classes despite arguing before my first lesson that I was meant to be an astronaut, not a kickboxing legend. Yet, here I am putting all these huge men the size of tanks to shame. Jean-Claude, eat your heart out baby, I think as I jump and kick out in front of me sending another man backwards. I slowly clear a path to Connor and Cooper who are currently throwing fists like they’re going for gold at a mixed martial arts convention. I whistle and manage to get their attention just as a fist goes for Connor’s face. I reach up and catch it then plant the sole of my new boot to the guys stomach bending him forward enough to snap my knee up and nail him square in the nose. I shove him backwards watching him bounce twice before lying still. At this point, no one is moving, and all eyes are on me.

Sup boys. I tip my head up to a grinning Cooper and Connor who have the decency to shrug sheepishly.

Hey baby we were just, They both look around at the bleeding bodies, broken tables and chairs. I nod expectantly because I cannot wait to hear the story that goes with this.

See, there was a bit of a misunderstanding with Rocha and well, um, Connor was already here and then Lorenzo called me and I came to collect my boys and well, how was your day baby girl? Cooper steps over one guy who is half conscious and pulls me into his arms.

This is why I can’t date or lead a normal life. I go out to one dinner, Cooper, and the next thing I know, I’m running out of the restaurant, flagging down a cab like I’m a contestant on some reality show. Then, I roll up here like a gangster and come in like one with the ‘say hello to my little friend,’ mentality. I left a string of my own damage from the door to here. I fuss at him as Connor jogs over and fist bumps me with that’s my baby girl. I have a hard time making eye contact with Connor given our jagged history from Yale. I told you before this would come up. You’re getting a little slice of my own personal hell as we speak. Ah the memories, I wish I could burn them from my brain but unfortunately, they are permanently seared. As is the taste of his kiss on the tip of my tongue, the feel of his warm, silky lips pressed to mine and the sheer tantric euphoria that comes with making love to that man.

So, you’re starving then? Cooper kisses me softly. I’d kill for a real kiss from him, but he’ll never know that. I play it cool because I am not gonna be just another girl. I refuse to break my rules for any bad boy with a bachelor’s mentality. Welcome to my world where hockey is life and I’m in love with two heartbreaking, rule breaking bad boys…..

Starving. I get lost in Cooper’s piercing blue eyes melting inwardly at his smile and the sound of his voice saying, then let’s feed my baby girl after all, she did take one for the team. Ever hear the saying, don’t feed the beast? I’m that beast and trust me, one taste is never enough.

Chapter Two

My small, porcelain hands blend with the bathroom sink I’m gripping tightly. I lean over coming closer to the woman staring back at me with wide-blue eyes. Her plump, cherry red lips are set in a determined line. Her expertly styled platinum blonde hair falls in soft curls over the tops of her small shoulders.

You don’t know fear; you popped two Ativan this morning. You don’t know hunger; your body is a no carb zone. I pause and brush the front of my tailored, white pantsuit selected just for today and take a deep breath, refocusing.

You are hella amazing. You are a bloody damn legend. You have an MBA from Yale and a law degree from Harvard. You graduated at the top of your class, Magna Cum Laude, from both.

You are successful. You are sexy as hell. You can handle anything, including Vicious Vera. I mentally psych myself up for my anticipated and nerve-racking interview with Encore Sports Network’s talk show host, Vera Pope.

Let me be the first to say, she is anything but the Pope. I highly doubt she’s prayed a day in her miserable, soul-sucking life. I can’t imagine with a mouth like hers she kisses her mother, if she even has one, much less uses it to talk to God. It’s a fact that she has no shame. Despite the many she’s consumed over the last decade, she still lacks a soul. Vera Pope is the equivalent to hurricane season in Florida. You know you should evacuate but you stay to see if it misses you and leaves anything standing in its destructive wake.

So, you’re probably asking why I’d take an interview with such a savage, ball-busting, career ending, tabloid contributing, paparazzi feen? Because I am Piper Blair. My mouth is as hard and fast as my right hook and I fear nothing. Except spiders. I HATE SPIDERS!

Truth be known, Vera Pope is the least of my concerns. My newest client, Connor McCarthy, however, is. He’s New York’s newest bachelor and bad boy for life; a title he owns proudly above all others. He’s also the Reds new Center. Last night I was given a heads-up that he’d be splashed on the front page of every tabloid and newspaper from New York to the ends of the earth. He is the very reason I’m facing off with Vicious Vera and cursing all things hockey at this very moment.

Miss Blair, you’re up in five. A thin, young girl with bright green eyes and a charismatic bounce to her step pushes the bathroom door open and informs me. I nod and smile to her, acknowledging I heard. I watch the giddy twenty-something year old with amusement.

You must be new here. I toss out lightly as I follow her out of the bathroom. Despite being a germ-a-phobe, I’d honestly prefer it over this one-on-one with Vera. Careers have been made and reputations obliterated by this woman. The reason I’m here has me preferring the inside of a roadside porta potty out of a horror film.

Oh my gosh, is it that obvious? She throws a shy smile over her shoulder further amusing me.

You’re just super happy to be here. Who did you replace? I ask curiously following her down the long, familiar maroon corridor with black marble flooring. It was one of the more unique sets I’d been on and my least favorite. As much as I’ve gone on about the detestable Vera, I’ve yet to lock horns with her. I’m not typically one she pummels with her banter, questions, accusations and tabloid trash to spike ratings. But I’ve watched it done to a many a colleague. I always keep in mind I could be next. Today, given Connor is one of the front-page splashes, my stomach is in knots, my reputation as one of New York’s top sports agents and attorneys, is hanging by a thread and Vera just might be the scissors to cut it.

I am so thrilled to be here. I’m really hoping it’ll launch my career in TV, production or journalism. She nods, tossing tendrils of short, light brown hair as she walks and talks. Not well at the same time, I might add, as I watch her almost walk right into a wall.

Oh. I pause and bite my lip trying to think of something nice or encouraging to say before I step onto the stage as Vera’s next victim. I feel like chum being thrown to the sharks and take several calming, slow breaths.

That’s nice. Good luck with that. I tell her as Vera announces me.

---

You know her as the jaw dropping, bomb-shell of New York. Lumped in with the top sports agents for our bustling city, she needs no introductions. Please give a warm welcome to my next guest, Piper Blair. Vera stands and claps then tosses a casual wink towards me. I step out and wave both hands to the audience. They’re on their feet clapping and yelling my name like I’ve just stepped up to accept an academy award. Jokingly I stand at the front of the stage and blow kisses then clutch my chest with they love me! They really, really love me! I have them laughing as I go on with, I’d like to first thank all my fans because without you, I just wouldn’t be who or where I am today. Next, I’d like to thank my outstanding agent and attorney, Piper Blair; oh crap, wait no, that’s me! They’re eating out of my hand, laughing and clapping, joking around waving papers and asking for autographs.

Please, no pictures. No pictures. Okay, get my good side. I strike a pose to the left and prop one hand in the air and the other on my hip then kick my cream-colored Christian Louboutin pump up behind me. I giggle and bow before walking backwards continuing to wave, curling my long, French manicured fingers to my palm. I retreat to my yellow, floral print seat that Vera gestures to like she’s nothing short of Vanna White. She hugs me, standing about an inch taller than my five foot five frame and presses her small, muscular body against mine. I catch a hint of peppermint and vanilla mingled together and get an instant headache. I smile warmly and wave again to the audience then cross my right leg over my left knee then prop my elbow up on it making Vera laugh with the audience.

Piper, I have to say, you’re so relaxed. She starts.

I saw my masseuse before I came. I wink and nod keeping the laughter going.

You’d never know from your expression or body language you’d just stepped into the Vipers Pit. She teases.

I have one hell of a masseuse. I banter back. She grins appreciatively then clears her throat and takes a breath.

Piper Blair, you’re one of the few people who have come onto Vera’s VIP and left with your ass and reputation still intact. She points out as I stare at her, cocking my head to the side waiting to see where this is going.

You’re one of the best in the business Piper. Highly respected. I have it on good authority you’ve just been named one of Forbes most successful, self-made multi-millionaires, despite coming from a legacy and family money. You are ranked as the number one sports agent in New York, are you not? Vera asks.

I don’t like to brag. I blow on my fingers making everyone laugh.

Yes, that is one of your biggest selling points, Piper; how humble you are now and have always been. Vera nods her head in approval.

I appreciate you having me here today, Vera. I always wonder who you’ll make cry before I get on here. I brought Kleenex just in case it’s my turn. I tease making her giggle. It’s not a sound most hear often from this sharp shooting, quick witted and tongued woman. She’s called Vicious Vera because she is in fact, a viper and always goes for the jugular.

Well, I love having you as do the producers, the audience and our viewers at home. By the by, I want a full commission off all the new athletes you’ll be signing after you leave here today. Vera gives me a playful wink making me laugh. My body isn’t rigid outwardly. I’m cool as a cucumber and complete relaxed to the naked eye. Inwardly, I’m an ice statue waiting to be shattered by the thirty-nine-year-old, petite, auburn haired beauty sitting next to me. She poises a black cup with pink polka dots and her name scrawled in gold script lettering to her bright red lips and smiles at me over the rim. I see a glint in her green-eyes and know she’s going for the kill. I smile at her letting her know I know. She clears her throat then claps her hands in front of her mouth.

Piper, you’re pretty much an open book, are you not? She asks, making my head do its little curious tilt to the side.

Typically, yes. I mean, I like my privacy as much as the next person. Speaking of which, Vera, was that you climbing over my wrought iron gate just last night. I gasp playfully and touch my chest making her laugh.

I’m brave and I’m curious Piper Blair, but I am no fool and your fence is one that you will not see me hanging off anytime soon. She held her hands up laughing.

A henchman of yours then? I ask amused watching the lines crease on her forehead. I love the fact that she’s thinking she’s been scooped on something good.

I’d like to take credit. She laughed nervously making me smile as I lean back in my chair perfectly content that I have her on the ropes. Now, I wonder, what blow she will deliver. Float like a butterfly but baby, I sting like a bee, I think to myself as I wait.

So, okay, lets get down to it, Piper Blair. Recently I heard you’ve added a new player to your roster. She tells me.

Ah, I cannot discuss my clients or anyone else’s with you. You know this. I hold my hands up and shake my head. Client privacy is a must to me. Many boast I’m their agent or lawyer, but that’s their place. Not mine.

Of course. Of course. So, do you know the name Connor McCarthy? She moves on.

Mmm, Connor, Connor McCarthy you say? I tap my chin making the audience laugh with her.

Gorgeous, tall, tanned, kinda looks like a surfer, plays Center for the New York Reds. Known to be aggressive on and off the ice and is quite the ladies’ man. Actually, he was just added earlier this week to the Reds roster, was he not? She asked me after describing the notorious bachelor with a bad boy reputation.

I’m still trying to figure out who this person is, so why are you asking me? I fire back.

Because I have it on very, very good authority you not only represent him as his agent, but you may have some very, very carnal knowledge of him. She leans forward and smiles wickedly at me. Inwardly I am screaming profanities while imagining slowly crushing every bone in her small body.

Vera, I’m not sure where you’re getting your information from. I start but stop when she holds a hand up to me.

You got your MBA from Yale, did you not? She asks.

I did and you got yours where? I asked amused.

I took a different professional route. I’ll admit, I’m not quite the woman you are, Piper, but I can still hold my own in my profession. Which brings me to my next question. Weren’t you serious with him while attending Yale together? I stare at her and smile as the audience gasps. I can imagine the viewers at home are on the edge of their seats shoveling popcorn in as they anticipate my answers.

Vera, this isn’t gossip girls but since you think you clearly have something on what sounds like my past, given I am an alumnus of Yale, and no longer a student, I pose a question for you. Aren’t you the other woman in several players as well as coaches’ beds? I ask and check my nails as she gasps along with the audience.

Plot twist, baby. I shoot my fingers at her as the audience dies laughing and Vera narrows her green-eyed gaze on me. They are dancing furiously with rage. She clears her throat and gathers her thoughts while I reach forward for my cup that matches hers. I have a collection of these with my name on them from the times I’ve been on her show over the years. This isn’t the first time we’ve fired shots at one another. But it might be the first time I’ve ever truly struck one of her nerves. Digging into my personal affairs and trying to make that shit public will not ever fly with me and she knows better.

The real reason you’re here today is to discuss the recent trade of hockey Center, Connor McCarthy from the Los Angeles Cougars to the New York Reds and his sodded reputation. She goes on while I wait.

Well, let me just get my phone out and Google this Connor fellow you seem so adamant to talk about. I nod and withdraw my phone from my pocket and let it read my fingerprint then press the Google icon showing it to the laughing audience.

What was his name again? Oh, right, Connor McCarthy. Now is that with two C’s? I ask a glaring Vera.

I don’t have time for games, Piper. We know you rep him. We’ll just move forward.

Might save time but look, here he is. I turn my phone around to show a well-dressed, sandy blonde haired, man in his early thirties, looking GQ with one large, tan hand in the pocket of his designer black pants while the other rests at his side.

"That’s a stark contrast to the man splashed all over the cover of magazines and papers