When her two best friends agreed, she needed to listen. And in this case, she knew in her heart she needed to step away from Roland Green. She nodded. “You’re right. I’m going to have to pass on this guy. I can’t inconvenience my entire staff because some prima donna athlete thinks everyone should kiss his ass.”
“Now you’re thinking clearly.”
She lifted her wineglass. “I don’t know about clearly, but I know what I want—and don’t want—for my company.”
“Good for you. Protect what’s yours and don’t let anyone step on it. No client is worth it. I don’t know who this guy is, but even if he’s some huge superstar, he’s still not worth the hoops you and your staff would have to jump through to keep him happy.”
She half turned to face him. “Thank you for helping me find clarity.”
“You know I’ll always be here for you.”
There was a knock at the door.
“That’s the pizza,” Nathan said. “I ordered it on my way over.”
She wanted to kiss him for taking care of dinner. She was hungry. She was tired. She’d totally forgotten about pizza.
He hadn’t, though. He paid the delivery woman and brought the pizza into the kitchen. She followed him and took plates out of the cabinet, then got out silverware and napkins.
“Fancy.”
She frowned. “What?”
“I’m fine with just a paper plate. Or even a paper towel. It’s just pizza, Mia. And I sure as hell don’t need a knife and a fork to eat it.”
“I don’t have any paper plates. And I just wanted to offer the knife and fork option.”
He grabbed a slice and bit into it, talking to her as he chewed. “You’ve seen me eat pizza before. It’s not like you don’t know me.”
“You can feel free to eat with your hands. As long as you eat in the kitchen. I’m putting mine on a plate and eating in the living room. And turning on the TV. To watch baseball.”
He gave her a long stare. “You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Cassidy.”
Mia gave him a triumphant look, then made her way into the living room. She chose a spot on the sofa, then grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, scrolling until she found the baseball game. Nathan came in with his plate and sat next to her.
“Your uncle Gavin is playing tonight,” she said.
“Yeah. They’re playing Washington. It’s a good matchup.”
They ate their pizza and watched the game. Mia ate two pieces, then set her plate on the table and finished off her glass of wine while she watched Gavin Riley knock a fastball into left field that bounced into the corner.
“Hell yes,” Nathan said as Gavin ended up with a double.
“He is so good.”
“My dad got me tickets to see one of Gavin’s games when Mom first started dating Dad. We flew into St. Louis and went to the game, and I got to go to the locker room and meet Gavin and the rest of the players. It was a great trip.”
Her lips curved. She could imagine what that must have been like for Nathan as a young teenager with a case of hero worship for both Mick and Gavin Riley. “Obviously a memorable one for you.”
Nathan grinned. “It was very cool.”
After they finished eating, she took their plates into the kitchen, then grabbed her planner, flipping to one of the notebooks. She took out her pen and, as the innings progressed, made some notes on the Washington pitcher who had a wicked arm, was incredibly good-looking and was about to become a free agent. He was being coveted by almost every team. He was also shopping new management.
“Don’t you ever turn it off?”
She glanced over at him. “Turn what off?”
“Work.”
“Of course I do. But I’m making notes about a player.”
“Interested client?”
“He might be.”
“And you can’t tell me which one, of course.”
“Right.”
A few minutes later, Nathan asked, “It’s not my uncle, is it?”
She laughed. “No.”
“Someone on his team, then, huh?”
“Nathan, I can’t tell you. Some of these athletes currently have management companies and are looking to make a change. After we sign them, they go up on our website as clients of MHC. Until then, it’s confidential, for obvious reasons.”
“Yeah, right, I knew that. You’ve only told me a hundred times. Sorry.”
She laid her notebook to the side. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. You know I do. But the first thing I tell prospective clients is that everything we do while we’re courting them is strictly in confidence.”
“I appreciate that. And it’s good that you’re not willing to mention it even to me.”
“Or my brothers—who have asked, by the way. Or my parents, or anyone outside of MHC. So it’s not just you.”
He slid his fingers into her hair, and the way he rubbed it made her tingle all over. “That’s what makes you so trustworthy. Your clients will appreciate it.”
He always made her feel better about her choices, even when she couldn’t tell him anything. Even when she had to keep reminding him she couldn’t tell him anything.
“Thanks.”
They watched another inning. Mia made notes and Nathan was pretty quiet. Once they went to commercial, he looked over at her planner.
“What kind of notes do you make?”
She set her planner aside. “Mostly my thoughts about how to present to that particular athlete. What we can do for him to shape his brand. What his strengths are in his sport, and how we can build on that, in terms of marketing and from a contract perspective. If a player is doing exceptionally well, he can make a lot more money when his contract is up. I also note questions I’ll want to ask him during the meeting.”
“What kinds of questions?” Nathan asked. “If I can ask that.”
Her lips curved. “You can. I’ll ask how he feels about the team he’s currently playing for. If our attorneys and agents are going to represent him in contract negotiations, we need to know if he wants to stay or if, in his mind, he’s already looking toward moving to another team.
“I also watch them play. Are they as good as the reports we’ve been getting on them? It’s my job to build MHC into a well-recognized sports management company. I’m not going to do that by signing failures.”
He leaned back against the sofa. “Wow. You’re tough.”
“I have to be. I want to build a successful company, and not every athlete is going to be good enough to be represented by us. We aren’t going to be the right fit for everyone.”
“Like the guy we talked about earlier that you’re going to walk away from.”
She nodded. “Headache guy.”
He laughed. “Yeah. How’s the headache, anyway?”
“Still present, but down to a dull roar now.”
“You need a hot bath to soak away the tension.”
“That sounds ideal.”
“Come on.” He stood. “Let’s go take a bath.”
She arched a brow. “You’re going to take a bath?”
“I’m not, no. But you are.”
She looked up at him. “I don’t know, Nathan. The whole bath thing would be a lot more fun if you were going to be in the tub with me.”
He looked down at her and leveled her with a hot look that promised sex and a lot of it, which was exactly what she needed to erase the last of this tension.
“Done. Now let’s go.”
She turned off the TV and followed him upstairs. When they got to her room, she turned to face him. “You, strip. I’ll start the bath.”
She started to go into the bathroom, but he grasped her hand. “No, you strip, and I’ll start the bath. I’m supposed to be catering to you, remember?”
“I don’t remember that conversation at all, but I’m not going to object.” She stood in front of him and pulled her top off.
He stared.
“Shouldn’t you be running my bath?”