“What about Gianni’s?” he asked.
“You’re their new spokesman. You’ll be signing autographs for an hour at their original location in Brooklyn on Wednesday afternoon.”
Cedric stopped and turned to face her. “Gianni’s Pizza?” he said with the enthusiasm of a slug. “Are you serious?”
“I know it’s not Reliant, but—”
“But nothing,” he said. “Look, there’s something you need to keep in mind, Payton. I’m one of the premier running backs in the National Football League. There are first-year rookies who wouldn’t stoop so low as to endorse a neighborhood pizza joint.”
“They are not just a pizza joint! Gianni’s is a legend in this city. Every New Yorker has had a slice of their pizza at least once in their lifetime.”
“How would you know? You told me you’ve been here less than a year.”
“The owner assured me,” Payton stated. “Come on, Cedric. They’re going to take a couple of pictures for their advertisements and you’ll sign a few autographs. This is a good start.”
He still didn’t look convinced, but then a corner of his mouth lifted with a reluctant smile. “To be honest, I’m kind of impressed. No agent is expected to land an endorsement deal this quickly.”
Payton allowed herself to enjoy his praise for a moment before dropping the other shoe. “Okay,” she continued. “So, this isn’t exactly your normal endorsement deal.”
He eyed her with a curious stare. “What isn’t exactly normal about it?”
“Well, with most endorsement deals you get paid.”
“Oh, come on, Payton,” he groused.
She held her hands out, pleading for understanding. “Gianni’s Harlem location sponsors the touch football team at the Linden Avenue rec center. The owner was there when I went to talk to the center’s director about the mini-football camp and when he heard you would be there, he was beyond excited. They can’t afford to hire a big-time celebrity to endorse their restaurants, and he’s your biggest fan.”
“Of course he is,” Cedric drawled.
“Is it really such a hardship? You’ve been such a sport about this so far. I thought partnering with another company who helps out the rec center would add to the good press you’ll get for participating in the mini-camp.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask, is the date for the camp set in stone?”
“Yes,” she said. “I talked to the center’s director this morning. Permission slips went out to all the kids today. Is there something wrong with the date?”
He shrugged. “It’s just that a bunch of the players usually spend the bye weekend in Atlantic City.”
Payton threw her hands up in the air. “Atlantic City? Seriously? After everything we discussed about keeping you out of trouble, you make plans to spend your weekend off in Atlantic City? Do you honestly think you’ll go there and stay out of trouble, Cedric?”
It was when she paused to take a breath that Payton noticed the smile edging his lips. “You’re lying,” she accused, ready to slap the smile from his all-too-handsome face. She pointed a finger at him. “Another rule, no rattling your agent just to get a rise out of her.”
His shoulders shook with laughter. “You make it so easy. And enjoyable. It doesn’t take much to imagine you battling some lawyer in court.”
“I studied contract law. I was hardly ever in court,” she said. She cracked a mischievous grin. “I have been told I’m pretty scary when it comes to negotiations, though.”
“Perfect trait for an agent,” he said.
His dark brown eyes crinkled at the corners, and her pulse quickened with a sudden burst of awareness. She wasn’t sure when he’d come to stand so close. Just as she wasn’t certain of when the corridor had become so quiet. The absence of noise only intensified the sound of their breathing.
“So you’ll be at Gianni’s on Wednesday, right?” she asked, taking a step back.
Cedric stared at her for several long moments, the gleam in his eyes telling Payton he found her retreat amusing. “If my agent says I need to be at Gianni’s on Wednesday, that’s where I’ll be.”
Payton was about to respond when movement over his shoulder caught her eye. “What’s going on over there?” She moved toward a tunnel that was an offshoot to the one underneath the stadium.
Cedric turned. “Probably the guys still resodding the turf.”
“I want to see it,” Payton said on an awe-filled breath. Not waiting for Cedric, she drifted through the arched hallway that led to the field, stopping just at the edge of the neatly trimmed deep green grass. She debated whether she should slip off her shoes before stepping onto it.
She went for it. Leaving her shoes behind, Payton stepped onto an actual NFL football field for the very first time. She turned in a slow circle and marveled at the sheer size of the place. On any given Sunday, seventy thousand people filled these seats. That was ten times the number of people in her small hometown.
She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, soaking in the moment. The freshly cut grass was cool beneath her feet. It tickled her through her sheer stockings.
She pulled in another deep breath and allowed the smell to bring her back to the sideline at Manchac High School. If she concentrated, she could hear her father’s deep voice booming from the sidelines. Coach Moe, as he was known throughout Manchac, could instill fear in his players with just a look. When he barked an order in that commanding voice, everyone jumped to attention.
Payton’s fists clenched at her sides as she tried desperately to hold on to the memory. She was so afraid that one day she would wake up and not be able to recall her daddy’s voice.
She wouldn’t allow that to happen. She couldn’t. Her memories were all she had left. And her love of football. It was a special bond they’d shared that Payton would always treasure. Finally, finally, her hard work had landed her exactly where she needed to be. Close to the game they both loved.
Coach Moe would be proud.
Cedric hovered at the edge of the field, leaning against the wall of the tunnel he’d run through dozens of times over the past four years. As he watched Payton stand there in silent worship, he tried to recall a single time he’d felt the sheer joy he saw on her face. She was relishing this. He could feel it radiating from her like warmth from the sun.
Cedric knew he was lucky. Millions of young boys dreamed of playing in the NFL and only a fraction ever got the chance to experience that reality. He’d never taken this gift for granted, but not once had he approached the football field with such reverence. At that moment, he knew if Payton Mosely had been born male, she would have been playing in the NFL. That was the kind of love for the game he saw on her face.
What was it about this woman and football? Where had this passion—this obsession—come from? Cedric was torn between flooding her with the dozen questions swirling in his mind or just watching her as she enjoyed something as simple as standing on a football field.
She turned in a slow circle, her face pointed up as she took in the tens of thousands of empty seats. She stopped when she saw him and smiled.
“This is so cool,” she mouthed.
Cedric pushed away from the wall and walked onto the field. He looked around the stadium, trying to see it for the first time through the eyes of someone who would never get to play the game, but who, without a doubt, loved it as much as he did.
“It is awesome, isn’t it?” he agreed.
“What’s it like to play here?” Her eyes were luminous with the same excitement that came through her voice. “I can only imagine how loud the crowd is to you guys on the field. To have all those fans cheering and screaming. It must be amazing!”
Cedric stuck his hands in his pockets to stop himself from touching her. He was once again struck by how beautiful she was. Even more startling was the contradiction she presented. Gorgeous, petite, feminine women usually didn’t live and breathe football. Cedric honestly could not think of anything sexier.
&nb
sp; “The best ever was my first playoff game as a Saber,” he started, answering her question. “This place was electric. I’d played in bowl games in college, but I doubt if anything will ever compare to running through the tunnel before that first playoff game. I just remember the fog from the smoke machines as we ran onto the field, and then the teal and silver confetti that was everywhere after we won. I found confetti in places confetti should never be found,” he joked.
Payton burst out laughing. The sound was more magical than the cheer of all Sabers fans combined.
She stared at him with rapt attention, complete and utter wonder shining in her eyes. “It sounds marvelous,” she said.
“You really do love this game, don’t you?”
Her eyes softened around the edges. “I do.” She let out a soft laugh. “When I was a little girl, I would kneel next to my bed and say my prayers at night. And they always ended the same way. ‘God, please let girls play football.’”
Cedric’s chest tightened with pity for the little girl who never got her prayer answered.
“There’s nothing I wanted to do more,” she confessed. “One of my first memories is being on my daddy’s shoulders while he yelled at his players to keep their legs up as they ran sprints. I was probably two years old. I spent nearly every afternoon on his shoulders until I was six.”
“What happened when you turned six that you had to stop going to their practices?”
“Oh, no. I never stopped going. I’d just gotten too heavy to be on my dad’s shoulders. I had to settle for standing next to him on the sideline. I had my own whistle and clipboard. The guys on the team even got me a Manchac Mustangs cap with ‘Coach Moe, Jr.’ embroidered on the side.”
Cedric couldn’t keep the smile from tracing across his lips. He could just imagine a six-year-old Payton barking at a bunch of hefty high school players five times her size. He’d bet they all fell in line when she talked, too.
“My dad would have loved this,” she continued. “No one loved football as much as he did.”
“Did he play for the Longhorns? You said you were from Texas, right?”
“Yeah, from West Texas.” She studied the goalpost. “Dad never played. He was born with a heart defect. You’d never know it by looking at him. He was six foot five and two-hundred-eighty pounds of muscle. But you don’t have to play the game to love it.”
Cedric couldn’t help it. He reached out and captured her hand, the feel of her soft skin sending a shock of desire through his bloodstream.
“No, you don’t,” he said. He could see that now. Payton would never play football, but she loved it as much as any of the players on the Sabers squad. Cedric had no doubt about that.
Their gazes met and his heart turned over in his chest.
She averted her eyes, glancing at their intertwined hands. Cedric’s palm tingled where it touched her. He ached to bring her fingers to his lips and satisfy the yearning to taste her skin. But after another long moment she lifted her gaze and pulled away.
“So,” Payton said, rubbing her arms as if she were cold. “Can you handle Gianni’s on your own Wednesday or do you need me to be there?”
Awareness of her lingered on his fingertips. He knew he shouldn’t have touched her, but he’d had to. The desire had been too hard to fight.
He was a bit taken aback by her suggestion to join him at the pizza parlor. Gus Houseman had never offered to accompany him anywhere. He was always too busy with his other clients.
“If you want to drop by Gianni’s, that would be fine,” Cedric answered.
“I’ll try to make it. It will all depend on how my schedule looks by midweek. I have something else I’m working on that may have me tied up.”
“Is this ‘something else’ something I should know about?”
“Not yet.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to get your hopes up. But I promise to call you as soon as I have something more solid to go on. Just trust me.”
“You say that as if it’s so simple,” Cedric teased, trying to diffuse some of the awkwardness that had sprouted between them after he’d touched her. Even though he was aching to touch her again.
“Ouch!” Payton laughed. “Have a little faith in your agent, Mr. Reeves.”
Her words struck a chord inside him that pushed all joking aside. Cedric looked her in the eyes, the weight of everything that was at stake suddenly smothering him.
“I’m putting all of my faith in my agent.”
Chapter 6
Payton sipped from the crystal tumbler she’d been given when she first sat in the main conference room of Morrison Products. The water had grown lukewarm, while the tempers on the other side of the table had risen even higher. The VP of marketing and the company’s chief operating officer were at odds over the deal, and to Payton’s surprise, the men were actually allowing her to witness it.
In practicing law, you never let the opposing counsel observe any dissention in the ranks. Morrison Products’s upper management seemed to have missed the day they taught that rule in business school. The COO was ready to pull the offer off the table but the marketing VP was still fighting. Apparently, Cedric’s bad-boy reputation didn’t faze him. The man seemed determined to make a deal with his favorite Sabers player.
Payton kept her cool. She’d decided before ever stepping through these doors the dollar figure she would accept in order to make Cedric the new spokesman for Soft Touch Shaving Cream. They had passed that figure twenty minutes ago.
But what kind of agent would she be if she didn’t try to get as much for her client as possible? She’d given Morrison Products a number that was twenty-five percent more than the amount she was actually willing to settle for, and she would not bite until they reached it.
Matt Shuster, the marketing guy, folded his hands on the table and leveled Payton with a shrewd stare. “One million, one hundred and fifty thousand,” he said.
Payton lifted her glass to her lips once more, hoping the men across the table could not see the water shaking in her unsteady hands.
This was one of those defining moments that would dictate how she was perceived as an agent. If she backed down from the amount she’d requested she’d always be seen as a pushover, an agent who could be bullied. On the other hand, if she continued to play hardball, she could potentially walk away from over a million dollars for her client.
Payton’s heart pumped a thousand miles per second. Her leg had begun shaking in a nervous rhythm, but she willed it to stop. She refused to show a modicum of fear. Since the minute she’d sat at this table, she’d fallen back into lawyer mode. These two had nothing on the opposing counsels and judges she’d faced in the Texas civil court system.
“Well, gentlemen,” she said, pushing her chair back from the table. “I thank you for your time today. But I’m afraid I can’t accept this offer.”
Matt Shuster’s jaw dropped open.
“You’re going to leave over fifty thousand dollars?” Louis Crane, the COO, asked, his voice incredulous.
Payton leveled her gaze on the balding man who had given her the toughest fight she’d had since her days of practicing law. “A better question is ‘are you going to lose Cedric Reeves over fifty thousand dollars?’” She braced her hands on the table and started to rise.
“Fine,” Louis Crane said.
Payton did her best to stop a smile from creeping onto her lips as she lowered herself back into the chair. She’d done it! She’d played hardball with these shrewd, intimidating businessmen and won. If this was the bliss she had to look forward to as a sports agent, Payton had no doubt she’d chosen the right career. The past hour had been the ultimate rush.
Payton refused to allow any emotion to show on her face until she slipped behind the wheel of her car and squealed like a child. She smiled the entire hour it took to make it back to her apartment in New Jersey. She smiled as she loaded two weeks’ worth of laundry into mesh laundry bags and packed them into her backseat.
She w
as still smiling several hours later when her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID and her smile widened even more at the name that appeared.
“So, how was it?” she asked, balancing her cell phone between her ear and shoulder. She stuffed the mix of jeans, T-shirts, underwear and bath towels into the washing machine, thinking of the different ways her mother would kill her if she ever found out Payton did laundry without separating it into proper batches.
“It was better than the folks at Gianni’s expected,” Cedric answered. “The place was packed. The restaurant manager said they did more business in that one hour than they had ever done on an entire Wednesday.”
“That’s awesome,” Payton said. “I really wanted to be there but I was busy with that ‘little something else’ I mentioned on Monday. I’ve got some news for you,” she continued, unable to keep the enthusiasm from her voice.
“Reliant?” was Cedric’s excited response.
Payton rolled her eyes. He sure knew how to let the air out of her balloon. “No, not Reliant,” she lamented. “Would you forget about them for a while? I told you Reliant Sportswear will take time.”
“Sorry,” Cedric answered, contriteness coloring his voice. “What’s the news?”
“I got you another endorsement deal.”
“A real one?”
“Of course a real one.”
“One where I actually get paid?” he clarified.
“Yes,” Payton said with a long-suffering sigh. She added quarters to the washing machine and turned it on, then returned to the folding table where the load she’d removed from the dryer sat in a heap. Maybe with the Soft Touch deal she could finally afford a place with a washer and dryer.
“So who’s the deal with?” Cedric asked.
“You, Mr. Reeves, are the new face of Soft Touch Shaving Cream,” she announced.
There was a pause, then, “Shaving cream?”
Incredulousness oozed from his end of the phone. Payton clutched her fist around the rayon top she was about to fold, wishing for a moment it was her client’s neck.
I'll Catch You (Kimani Romance) Page 6
