Part Two: Unnecessary Roughness
"Did you see this? Are you actually looking at this?"
Ryan McCabe leaned back in his chair, aviator shades covering his eyes, and wished his agent, Walt Alston, would disappear. And take his tablet with its vicious headlines with him.
They were sitting on the back patio of Ryan's home on Davis Islands, an archipelagos formed by two small islands at the mouth of Hillsborough Bay and minutes from Tampa's bustling downtown area. The rest of the property sloped down to the bay, a scene that up until today had given him a great deal of pleasure. Today he was wondering how many of the pleasure boats cruising past his house were doing so with their sole purpose being to get a glimpse of a headline-busting football player.
"Ryan?" Walt's voice increased in volum
