by Claire Adams
“I am willing to date you in a way that will keep the media focused on you,” she said ending the silence. “But I need something in return.”
“Okay, hit me with your best shot,” I said as I scooped up the last of my eggs.
“We have to get engaged,” she said.
“What in the hell?” I blurted dropping my fork. It hit the plate and made a loud clanking noise that caused the server to quickly come check to see if everything was okay. I waved her away, “We’re fine. Thanks.”
“I need you to agree to be engaged to me,” Payton repeated.
“You’re going to have to explain that one, lady,” I said, pushing the plate away and folding my arms across my chest.
“I already told you that my mother doesn’t want to give me the job I want with the Bears,” she said looking away as if ashamed. “But I didn’t tell you why.”
“And why won’t your mother give you your dream job?” I asked. As she began to speak about her mother, Payton’s expression had shifted from confident to almost miserable. It was painful to watch the change, and I had to fight the urge to reach out and pat her hand in sympathy since I was pretty sure she’d probably smack it if I did.
“She wants me to find a man, get married, and start having kids,” she said quietly. She stared down at her lap for a moment before lifting her chin and defiantly, stating, “If I don’t do what she says, she’ll disinherit me and cut me out of the Bears for good. I told her I’d find my own job and support myself, but the more I’ve thought about it, the less I want to be cut off.”
“And you think that getting engaged to me is going to help you?” I laughed. “Your mother loathes me!”
“I know,” Payton grinned. “That’s what makes this even better. I’ll be doing what she ordered me to do, so she’ll have no choice. Meanwhile, I’ll be building my resume so when it’s finally time to assume a leadership role in the Bears organization, I’ll have the experience necessary to take over the GM job!”
“Whoa, slow down,” I said holding up a hand. “How are you going to build up your resume?”
“You’re going to appoint me the new GM for the Storm, of course,” she said with a note of surprise in her voice that sounded like the decision was a done deal.
“Hold on, lady!” I said, slamming my palms on the table hard enough to rattle the remaining dishes. “How damn dumb do you think I am?”
“I didn’t say you were dumb, Mr. Connor,” she said with one eyebrow raised. “I said we were negotiating a proposal.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re asking?” I asked. As I continued, my voice became louder, “I cannot appoint a 28-year-old woman as the GM of a brand-new NFL franchise! I don’t care if you are the reincarnation of George Halas himself; you are not experienced enough to manage a team!”
“Shhh, keep your voice down, will you?” she said, holding her hands up as if to ward me off. “Look, we’re talking this over. This is why it’s called a negotiation rather than blackmail.”
I ran one hand through my hair as I let out a deep sigh and shook my head.
“Is my age the only thing that’s keeping you from naming me GM?” she asked.
“You’re kidding, right?” I said incredulously. “Your age, your family, your inexperience, and…”
“And the fact that I’m a woman?” she asked with a hint of irritation. “I get it. The boys don’t want girls in their clubhouse. Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re worried that we’ll hang curtains and make you clean up your language.”
“Well, that’s a small part of it,” I said with a half-grin. “Most of us hate gingham check.”
“The fact that you know what gingham check is should disqualify you from the boy’s club yourself,” she grinned back. “But seriously, what’s the problem aside from my age?”
“If we’re going to be announcing the fact that we’re engaged, then there will be that problem,” I said. “I think, you’re going to have to decide what you want more, Sweetness.”
“Funny man,” she said pushing her hair away from her face as she leaned down and reached into the bag at her feet pulling out a stack of folded papers. She opened them and handed me half. “Your copies, so you can take notes if you want to.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” I said looking down at the sheet of paper on top. “You’ve got a list of 10 things here. I only need one.”
“Yeah, well, go big or go home, right?” she smiled as she waited for me to scan the pages. I flipped to the second page and stopped.
“Oh hell no!” I said jabbing my finger at number ten. “Hell no, lady!”
“What?” she said, giving me a look of innocence that I knew was patently false. “I don’t see why you’d object to regular sexual relations. Is there something I should know about you and your physical capabilities?”
“You are bat shit crazy, lady!” I protested. “It’s one thing to negotiate a deal that will give us both what we want, but it’s quite another to negotiate sex! I’m not doing this!”
“Will you please keep your voice down?” she scolded.
“You are seriously trying my patience, lady,” I growled in a low voice.
“So, you’re saying you don’t want to have sex with me?” she asked calmly.
“I didn’t say that,” I hissed. Caught between a rock and a hard place, I had no idea how to navigate my way out.
“Then what’s the problem?” she asked.
“It’s just weird!” I said as I tried to make sense of the situation. I definitely wanted to have sex with her, but having her negotiate it in this way made me feel uneasy. My brain spun as I tried to figure out how to regain control of the situation.
“Haven’t you ever had a friend with benefits or is that too new school for you?” she asked.
“Of course…I mean…what the hell, lady?” I sputtered as she pushed me up against the proverbial ropes. To admit anything made me feel like I’d be at a distinct disadvantage, but not admitting it made me seem stuffy and out-of-date. “Why are you doing this? Why do we even have to discuss it?”
“Because if we’re going to announce our engagement, neither one of us can afford to get caught cheating,” she said as she leaned forward and gave me a sly smile as she said, “And I don’t know about you, but I’m not interested in being celibate for the next six months, and we obviously have chemistry.”
“You’re out of your mind, you know that, right?” I said shaking my head as I tried to wrap my mind around how all of this would work.
“I’m assuming you won’t object to sex three times a week,” she said looking down at her papers and circling the number in front of her.
“Once a month,” I countered tersely. I knew that I’d have no problem with her initial proposal, but I also knew that winning the process of negotiation meant not looking too eager, and her business-like approach to this irritated me.
“Twice a week,” she shot back.
“Twice a month,” I replied.
“Good, then we agree,” she smiled as she scribbled a short note and then made a large check mark across the page. “Once a week it is!”
“I didn’t agree to that!” I protested.
“No, but you will,” she said as she continued smiling. “Now, about the GM position.”
“No, that’s off the table,” I said shaking my head. “You got the engagement and the sex, there will be no GM position.”
“Even if I sink the entire deal because of it?” she asked.
“You’d do that?”
“I might,” she said watching me closely. I wanted to reach out and grab her arms and shake her until she came to her senses, but I knew that I was so close to getting exactly what I wanted, and that to drive her off now would be more than unwise. I quickly came up with a compromise.
“How about this? You know as well as I do that I can’t just appoint you GM without doing an actual search for Tony’s replacement,” I said quickly spinning an interim solution. “Besides, t
he team can survive without a GM for right now because we’re not close enough to the next draft for it to matter, and the scouting staff can gather intel for whomever replaces Tony.”
“And your point is?” she asked skeptically.
“My point is, let me do a proper search,” I said. “Give me until the playoffs to interview prospective candidates and then after that period, we can talk about how you can contribute.”
“Then I’ll be named the next GM?” she asked.
“No, I didn’t say that,” I replied. I wasn’t going to give her false hope; I just wasn’t going to sink the deal before it had a chance to do its work. “I’m saying that you can learn the job as if you had been hired, and then, when it’s time to hire, if you are the best candidate for the job, we’ll talk. You won’t get a salary, but I’ll pay all of your expenses for as long as the contract lasts.”
“Are you bullshitting me?” she asked.
“No, if I were bullshitting you, I’d have told you that you could have the job,” I said, drumming my fingers on the table, impatient for this to end.
“Okay, fine,” she nodded as she made a note next to the term and then put a small check mark next to it. She looked up at me with a satisfied grin as she asked, “Is there anything else that you want or need from this negotiation?”
“Now that you ask, yes, there is something else,” I said suddenly realizing that held a card that hadn’t yet been played.
“And that is?”
“If we’re going to announce our engagement, then I want you to move into my penthouse,” I said bracing myself for her objection.
“Okay,” she shrugged as she flipped to the second page and made a note.
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, why? Did you want me to object?” she asked making me suddenly feel very exposed as if she were reading my mind.
“No, I just didn’t expect you to be so accommodating,” I said.
“I can be very pleasant when I want to be,” she smiled. “When do you want me to move in?”
“As soon as possible,” I said adding, “I’ll send movers over to get your things.”
“That would be very kind of you, Mr. Connor,” she smiled brightly. “I’ll go home and pack and be ready for the movers tomorrow.”
“You can pack that quickly?” I asked, surprised by her agreeable attitude, but also suspicious.
“I travel light,” she said as her smile faded a little.
“Very well, I’ll have my secretary schedule the movers to arrive tomorrow afternoon,” I said. “I’d like to have dinner with you tomorrow evening.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she nodded as she folded the sheets of paper and leaned down to grab her bag. “I’ll type this up and have a copy ready for you to sign tomorrow at dinner.”
“Okay, good,” I said gruffly.
“It’s going to be nice doing business with you, Connor,” she said standing up and offering her hand. I took it and shook, feeling vaguely uncomfortable with the entire plan and uncertain about how this would all play out. She slung her bag over her shoulder and grinned as she said, “I’m assuming that you’ll take care of the check?”
“Oh, right,” I nodded, pulling out my wallet and looking around for the server.
I was startled when Payton leaned down, kissed my cheek, and said, “See you tomorrow night, babe,” before turning and striding towards the door.
As I watched her leaving, I cursed myself for turning down her first offer.
#
When I arrived back at the office, I found Finn waiting for me. I hadn’t planned to talk with him about the deal I’d brokered with Payton until she’d moved in, but this forced my hand.
“So, how’s it going with the Halas chick?” Finn asked after I’d closed the door.
“You’re going to have to start referring to her by her first name, Finn,” I said as I moved toward my desk trying to maintain a neutral tone.
“Okay, fine,” he shrugged. “How’d it go with Payton?”
“We negotiated a deal,” I said without further explanation.
“And that deal entails?” Finn prompted digging for details.
“She’s moving in with me tomorrow,” I said keeping my answers brief. I had known Finn long enough and well enough to know that the more information I gave him, the more likely it was to be used in ways that I hadn’t anticipated. Sometimes that was a good thing, but often it was not.
“Whoa, how’d you manage that, man?” he said with a hint of awe in his voice.
“I told her what I needed and she told me what she needed,” I shrugged. “We negotiated.”
“Well, I’ll be goddamned!” Finn chuckled. “I was wondering if you still had it in you, but I guess that puts my fears to rest.”
“What do you mean?” I asked as I eyed him suspiciously.
“Nothing, I’m just saying that it’s good to know that all this rich living hasn’t made you go soft,” he replied casually. Something about the way he said it set me on high alert.
“So, how are the inquiries into the management firm going?” I asked trying to steer the conversation toward something more neutral.
“Good, good,” Finn nodded. “I’ve got appointments with a couple of agents who were let go by CAA under questionable circumstances. I figure I’ll mine them for information about how the business is run and then put together a plan for structuring ours.”
“Got it,” I nodded. “What do you need from me?”
“Nothing at this point,” he said as he walked away from my desk and stood in front of the window overlooking the lake. “You focus on the girl — I mean, Payton, and I’ll pull together the stuff we need for our next steps.”
“Good enough,” I said, wondering what was going through that little brain of his. I’d been friends with Finn for most of my life, but it was still hard for me to read him and as a result, I was wary.
“Dax?” he said without turning around.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“Don’t fall for her.”
“Wasn’t intending to,” I replied in a tone that was much calmer than I felt.
“Good,” he nodded turning around. “That’s good.”
Without saying another word, Finn walked to the door, opened it, and stepped into the hallway. I thought about calling after him, but stopped myself. It was better to wait and see what he was going to do, than to ask and actually find out.
Chapter Sixteen
Payton
I marched away from the breakfast table knowing I should have been excited, even thrilled, about negotiating a deal with Dax, but instead I felt panicked. What was I doing? My mother was going to have an absolute fit when I announced my engagement, and I had no guarantee that Dax would appoint me as the Storm’s new GM once he’d evaluated his choices.
I blushed furiously as I recalled how I’d negotiated the sexual part of the contract. Never in my life had I ever done something so brazen, and yet, in my mind, it felt incredibly satisfying to make him feel so profoundly uncomfortable. I wouldn’t deny the fact that I was incredibly attracted to Dax Connor, and when I’d added the sex clause to the negotiations, admittedly it had been about making him pay for the rejection I’d felt when he’d pulled back.
There was no question that I wanted the GM job, but what were the consequences of even asking for it? If Dax actually hired me, there would be criticism from every experienced executive in the NFL when they found out. I would not only be the youngest GM in the league, beating out the Bears GM, Ryan Pace, by 10 years, but I’d be the first woman to ever hold the position in an NFL organization.
It would be a publicity circus, and would probably hamper the efforts of the coaches and staff, not to mention the players themselves. There would be questions about my age, my qualifications, and then there would be the NFL boys club. They might do their best to freeze me out and make things difficult.
Not to mention the fact that my mother was going to have a fit.
; I’d grown up in a family that always had a solid reason for everything they did — right or wrong. No one ever questioned my grandfather’s decisions when it came to the Bears. Or at least, I’d never seen anyone question him. My mother had inherited her father’s stubborn nature, and then, at some point, added a tinge of nastiness to the mix. I thought about how she’d scorned Dax’s success when he’d been awarded the new franchise, and how angry she’d been when she realized she’d have to attend the ceremony. This announcement was going to fulfill her requirements, but it was going to set off a string of explosions that we might not survive.
I needed to talk to someone who knew the lay of the land, but who had a cool head. I smiled as I thought about Gus’ bald head and easy smile, and I knew exactly where I needed to go. I caught a cab on the corner of Dearborn and slid into the back seat.
“Where to, ma’am?” the cabbie asked.
“Can you take me to Soldier Field?”
“Ma’am, I’m not going to be allowed in the parking lot,” he said, giving me a worried look in the rearview mirror.
“Don’t worry; I’ll call ahead and have them open up the gate,” I assured him as I opened my clutch and quickly texted a message to the security staff on duty. Moments later, I received a reply telling me to enter on the South Side where one of the guards would be waiting. I looked up and said, “It’s all good; let’s go.”
The driver shrugged and headed towards Lake Shore. I rolled down the window and let the cool lake breeze blow across my face as we headed south. My thoughts lighted on my father.
After Jonathan died, often I couldn’t sleep. My father would find me wandering the house searching for my brother and would take me out and buckle me into the back seat of his car, turn on talk radio, and drive up and down Lake Shore until I drifted off to sleep. My mother would scold him for spoiling me, but he’d always tell her that it was a small price to pay to spend some time with his daughter. We never talked during the drives, and it wasn’t until after he died that I realized our night time drives were as much an escape for him as they were a sleeping tonic for me.
“Miss?” the driver said pulling me out of my foggy memory. “We’re here.”
