“Funny.” I touch my chin, fake contemplating. “I negotiated Zo’s contract myself and I don’t remember seeing that stipulation anywhere.”
“I thought it was understood. A gentleman’s agreement.”
“Ohhh. A gentleman’s agreement. So it’s a man thing. About time being a woman worked to my advantage.”
“Banner, you know what I mean. If you even think about talking to other teams—”
“I’m not thinking about it,” I say, brandishing the words like a knife. “I am talking to other teams because I knew you’d pull this shit when his numbers were down at the end of the season. Any excuse not to pay him what he’s worth.”
I press the heel of my hand into the conference room table and lean forward.
“I don’t want your balls, Lowell, but I will take them.”
Frustration settles between his brows and around his mouth, but he doesn’t offer anything else. I head for the door and toss a warning over my shoulder.
“I don’t care where you get it, but you better find my zero.”
What a day. Despite all my bravado in Lowell’s office, I feel less certain about Zo’s contract than I ever have in an off-season. His numbers are down. I don’t know why. It’s the first time in ten years he finished down. I’m thinking about taking care of one client when another calls. I answer with Bluetooth, negotiating the back roads to my house from downtown.
“Kenan, hey,” I answer, smiling. Kenan makes me smile. He’s so big and serious and daunting but has one of the best hearts around underneath all the bluster. He and Zo remind me of each other, and I’ve known Kenan almost as long.
“Hey, Banner.” His deep voice comes quietly and he sounds weary.
“Everything okay?” I ask, on alert.
“Yeah. Just more drama with Bridget.” He clears his throat. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Is she trying to make it harder to see Erin?”
“I got it,” he replies more sharply than I anticipated. Probably more sharply than he meant to. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to be short. It’s just . . . I don’t want to talk about Bridge. I didn’t call to talk about her.”
“Okay.” I put aside my ass-kicking reflex. Any woman who would cheat on Kenan, and with a teammate, deserves an ass kicking, but he won’t let me at her. “So what do you need?”
“August and I want to do a charity golf tournament,” he says. “The homeless situation in San Diego is at a record high, and we want to help with funding.”
“You’re right.” I pull into my driveway and open the garage but don’t get out of the car quite yet. “My family still lives there, and it’s worse every time I visit. What do you need from me?”
“Work on sponsors.”
“Of course.”
“I assume you’ll start with the brands I already endorse.”
“Yeah. I think we can count on them, but depending on the scale, we may need a few more.”
“We want to have significant impact.” He sucks his teeth, a rueful sound. “Well as significant an impact as you can have on something this huge and unfixable.”
“Right. True.” I switch from my car’s Bluetooth and bring my phone to my ear. “I’ll knock on some doors starting tomorrow.”
I mentally shift a few things around so I can devote an hour or so to finding possible sponsors.
“Great, and you’ll have help,” Kenan says. “So don’t think this is all on you. I know how much you have on your plate.”
“Help?” I get out of the car, lock up, and let down the garage. “How so?”
“Jared Foster will be coordinating with you,” Kenan says. “From Elevation. You know him, right? August’s agent? His br
other?”