Summary:

“It’s easy, see? I give you this money. You watch this door.” Wallace stares at the lean, muscled dude who is standing in the hallway that leads to the hotel gym while grasping a bottle of vodka in one hand and cradling a wad of cash in his outstretched palm. Working a night shift as gym security at an LA hotel during the MLH draft was certainly bound to be an adventure, but this particular scenario wasn’t exactly what he expected to be handling at two o’clock in the morning.