by Lucy Snow
Anything not to focus on the hulk in the perfectly tailored suit standing at the bar, whose gaze had a way of wandering in my direction just as mine happened to wander toward him every few minutes. If I’d been watching us in a movie I’d have been yelling at the screen already, trying to get the hero and heroine to move faster.
“Great turnout tonight,” I opened with, trying to get something going.
Steve looked around. “Yeah, not too bad. Listen, I ran into one of your players just now.”
“Oh yeah? That’s not surprising.” I looked around the room quickly. “I think all 53 of them are here tonight, and all the coaches too.” It was actually an impressive turnout. Aside from practice and games, it wasn’t easy to get these guys to do anything all at the same time. “Which one?”
“The Mountain himself, Hudson Asher.”
My ears pricked up, and suddenly I was really paying attention. “Oh yeah?” I asked, taking another sip of my drink. “How was that?”
“Dude’s even bigger in person.”
“Yeah,” I smiled, “Hud really is something else when you get close to him. What did you guys talk about?”
“Oh, nothing too big, just business stuff.”
“Yeah?” Like all professional football players who had stuck around this long, Hud definitely had some money, so it made sense that he and Steve would have something to talk about besides football.
Hud had never struck me as a guy who spent too much time focused on the Wall Street Journal, though. I figured him for more of a hunting and fishing kind of guy. All I really knew about his personal life outside of the facility was that he rode a giant motorcycle, and even that part was sexy as hell.
I looked back at Steve. He would never be caught dead on a motorcycle, I could already tell.
Still, though, I might as well make the most of our evening. I had had fun on our earlier dates - Steve might be a little uptight in a room full of athletes, but so far he had been a nice guy, very polite. Each of our dates had ended with a polite and chaste kiss, and after each one I had looked forward to seeing him again.
“Yeah, he’s looking for places to park some of that money you keep paying him.”
I laughed. “You sound as if you think his contract isn’t worth it?”
Steve looked at me. “Asher’s? Where would you get that idea? He’s an old linebacker past his prime. You could draft a replacement in the 5th round and pay him peanuts for a few years, probably get better play out of him too.”
I crossed my arms under my breasts, not really wanting to get into work stuff at a charity event, but unable to resist Steve goading me into it like this. “Have you actually looked up Hudson’s contract? It’s a lot more team friendly than you think.”
“I haven’t. All I’m saying is with the new rookie pay scale, you could save yourself serious money by kicking him to the curb and getting a younger guy in.”
I narrowed my eyes. “These aren’t just entries on a spreadsheet, Steve. These are real people we’re talking about. They have lives and families and it’s more than just his production on the field.” I stared directly at Steve. “Which, by the way, has been great these last few years, even above expectations.”
Steve took a sip of his drink, and I saw the spark in his eyes. He liked to argue, and I liked that about him. I wasn’t exactly the most confrontational person, far from it, but I didn’t have a habit of backing down from a verbal spar if the other person wanted to go. “Oh really? It’s more than just what’s on the field?” He squared up his posture, standing at full height and just barely looking down at me.
I didn’t know why, but I looked down really quick to check which heels I’d worn tonight.
“What else is there? Football is just a set of rules and statistics. It’s a game you can play with numbers.”
“You can’t possibly believe that.”
“I really do, though. You have contracts that cost a certain amount of money and give you a chance at a certain amount of production. You assemble those contracts and positions and you see what happens, then make adjustments.”
“Football players aren’t robots, Steve.”
“Yeah, but this is business, Mackenzie. Sure, you can be nice to them and all, but don’t forget, they work for you. You’re not their friend. When it’s time to let go of someone, trade them and see what you can get back, or cut them and move on.”
“It’s just not that easy, though.”
Steve dropped his voice down low. “It may not be right now, but trust me, I’ve been in business a while. Not sports, of course, but the parallels are closer than you think. It’s better to get rid of a player a season too early rather than a season too late.”
I didn’t say anything, not sure how to process that. On the one hand, Steve made a good point - having someone on the roster who was just taking up space was bad for the whole team. But at the same time, personalities mattered, people mattered.
It just wasn’t as simple, as cut and dried, as Steve was making it out to be. There were real people involved. “I get that, and I get that this is business, but it’s also a family, of sorts.”
Steve laughed. “I like that you think that way. It’s certainly refreshing, and I don’t often meet people who think like that, especially not,” he stopped and looked me up and down. I couldn’t help but blush, and took a quick sip of my drink. “Especially not any who look as good as you.”
“Thank you, Steve, that’s very nice of you.” It was only recently that I had learned how to take a compliment properly, and I was still getting used to it. Still, even if Steve wasn’t the most exciting guy in the world, it was always nice to hear something like that.
“Sure thing. Keep in mind, though, your coach, Armstrong, he thinks like I do. He’ll get rid of a guy at the peak of their production rather than keep him too long, and if he gets a good offer, pretty much everyone can go.”
On that point Steve was 100% correct, Coach Armstrong would absolutely not hesitate to cut or trade a player when whatever internal calculus he used to determine their value suddenly started showing they were no longer helping the team out.
“I’ll be on the lookout in case he decides he wants to get rid of anyone.”
“Well, while your eyes are open, be sure and check out Hudson Asher.”
“Oh?” No trouble there, if Hudson Asher was ever in the same room as me, I knew it, and I kept an eye on him, even if I didn’t want to. I was like a moth to his flame, all of a sudden, though I couldn’t explain it for the life of me.
“Yeah, he’s a prime candidate. He’s got good experience, he’s led a great defense before, but he’s getting a little long in the oooh.”
I giggled. “He’s 32, Steve, he’s a couple years younger than you.”
“True, true, but, as you put it, I look at spreadsheets all day, Mackenzie. Hudson Asher’s job is to be a physical monster.”
That it is, that it is. And he was very, very good at it. “So you’re saying he’s on the decline.”
“I’m saying whoever he is, he’s not Superman. Linebackers, especially guys who play angry and physical like he does, they don’t usually make it to the mid-30s and still have numbers anyone is willing to extend a contract on.”
“What should we do, then?” I asked, humoring him for a little. As much as I wasn’t the biggest fan of our current line of discussion, I had to admit it was a little sexy to see Steve so fired up about something. This had definitely been lacking in our earlier dates.
“I think you should first look for a good trade offer. Like I said, he’s had a good career up to this point, there are desperate franchises that need a good middle linebacker and who will give you more than he’s worth. You get a good deal like that, help some other team bring in veteran leadership while getting some picks you can use on younger talent, and it’s a win-win. There are probably a dozen teams that would line up to take him off your hands.”
“We certainly could do that.”
; “It’s better than having him on the roster, signing him again, and then needing to keep him even when his numbers decline because his contract is too valuable.”
“He’s made team-friendly deals in the past.”
“Yeah, but from what I read, players have a way of seeing the end coming a little sooner than the teams they play for, and then the team-friendly contracts start becoming a lot more player-friendly, if you know what I mean.”
“I have an idea.”
“Yeah.” Steve finished his drink and looked around. “Listen, I didn’t mean to start talking so much shop all at once.”
“Don’t worry about it, actually, I kinda liked seeing you all fired up.” I smiled. “It was pretty cute.”
“Yeah, well, I can get even cuter.”
“Oh yeah? How does that work?”
“It’s a little tough to show you in such an, ahem, public place.” Steve’s smile got a little naughty, and as my second drink took hold, that naughty smile looked sexier and sexier.
Up until now if you had asked me where Hudson Asher was in the room in relation to me, I could have pointed him out without hesitation, but after getting into it with Steve over contracts and football talk, I wasn’t even sure if he was still at the party.
I thought that was an improvement, all things considered. I was here with Steve, and there was no reason for me to be indulging in a harmless schoolgirl crush on one of my father’s employees.
And if he lasted a little while longer with the Patriots, Hud would be one of my employees, with how things were going.
“I like the sound of that,” I said, and finished off my drink, setting the glass down on a table nearby. I rested my hands on the table and looked at Steve, challenging him. “So, what do we do now?” Liquid courage was pulsing through my veins, and I felt like being bold.
Steve was the perfect guy to be a little bold with. Nothing too out of hand or out of character. And if nothing else, Steve could help me get over my little crush on Hudson Asher.
If I could even call it a little crush anymore.
Steve stepped closer to me, around the table that until that moment had been between us, and put his arm around my waist. I let him pull me in, my senses going into overdrive, a little self conscious about public displays of affection, especially in a place like this, with people I worked with, and people who worked for me.
And Hudson Asher. But I was trying not to think about him, and I was doing an OK job at it. Maybe.
“Steve, we can’t,” I whispered, looking around, thankful that no one else looked to be paying any attention to us at the moment. Steve didn’t match my glance, focusing on me the entire time. “Not here, I work with these people.”
“No one cares,” he said back, and kissed me briefly on the lips. My whole body fluttered at his kiss, but I wasn’t sure it was because I had craved it or because it seemed a little taboo in a room full of coworkers at a charity event. I had never really thought of charity events as exciting before, so this was new.
“I do, though. I don’t want people to talk.”
“What’ll they talk about? You’re on a date.”
I gave Steve something that approached a glare. “It’s different for me, Steve, you wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.” There was no rancor in his voice; Steve genuinely looked like he was interested.
I looked at him some more without replying for a few seconds, just to check, but he only raised his eyebrows and nodded. “It’s just…different.”
“Come on, Mackenzie, that’s not good enough and you know it.”
“OK, OK, two reasons. The first is, I’m a woman working in a man’s field.”
“So?”
“So every thing I do gets judged against that. If I slip up, my entire gender takes a hit.”
“And the second reason?”
“My father owns the team, Steve. All these people work for him. It’s bad enough that I work here too, people are gonna think I just waltzed in here and took the job from someone, like a man, who was more qualified, without stopping to realize that I have worked hard to get where I am.”
“So that means you can’t kiss your date in public?”
I blushed. “No, it’s not that, it’s just…”
I wasn’t willing to say it, but I was already thinking it. Sure, if I really wanted to, I could kiss my date in public, and no one important would really care. The real reason that I didn’t want to kiss Steve in public was that I was worried Hud would see it.
That was dumb. Hud and I were nothing to each other but people we saw at work. He had never shown any interest in me at all, and I certainly had tried to keep my growing attraction to him under wraps, as deeply hidden as I could. So why was this bothering me now?
Unfortunately, I just didn’t have time to figure myself out right now. “Just not here, OK? Somewhere else. Not here.” I looked at Steve, a wan smile on my face, trying to get him to drop the point.
Steve stared back at me like he was about to say something, then got the better of himself. He smiled and nodded, and looked around the room again, pulling back a little further from me, which let me relax. I was attracted to him and I had enjoyed his kiss; if we were alone I’d welcome more such kisses, and return them with pleasure.
Just not here.
Steve’s eyes widened. “I have an idea, then.”
“Oh yeah?”
Steve took me by the arm and pointed with his chin. I followed his gaze and saw a door, presumably leading to another room. “Shall we?” He asked.
My breath quickened. “Yes,” I whispered, “we shall.”
I could tell my cheeks were crimson red with a heady combination of excitement and embarrassment as Steve led me toward the door. I kept looking around and thinking that at any moment someone would point at me and shout “LOOK everyone! Mack going somewhere to fool around with HER DATE!” and then everyone in the room would point and laugh and I’d see Hud standing there looking angry and sad at the same time.
Of course none of that really happened, because I’m a crazy person who concocts these elaborate fantasies to save me from the things I’m scared of. We made it to the door without incident, and as far as I could tell, no one in the room even noticed that we were gone. We stood near the door for a few seconds, looking totally casual, though all I could think about was how suspicious we probably looked.
Once we were through the door, Steve closed it behind us and we were alone. The rush of getting out of the party caught up with me all at once, and for a second I was a little woozy. Steve’s hand was at my lower back, and I was reassured by him keeping me steady.
“Where do we go?” I whispered.
“This way,” Steve replied, sounding so confident that for a second I wondered if he had memorized the plans to this place or something. Given his personality, I wouldn’t put it past him.
I let him lead me down the hall. The lights were lower here, like the hall’s staff didn’t figure anyone would be here so they could save a little bit on the electric bills. There were unused chairs and tables packed off to one side - extras just in case the main hall needed more. More doorways that led to offices and smaller meeting rooms.
And all of it empty.
A twinge of naughtiness raced through me. I felt like we were somewhere we shouldn’t be, like we were breaking into a high school after dark or something. Suddenly, I realized that I was breathing a lot shallower and taking softer and slower steps, which was quite a feat in these heels, like I was trying to minimize the sounds and disturbances I made.
