“Oooh, those sound good, too,” Payton said as I gave the server my order. “We can share.”
“That’s pretty presumptuous of you, Ms. Lasky,” I said raising an eyebrow as the sommelier poured the Malbec and looked to me for approval. I tasted it and nodded. He poured two glasses and silently slipped away from the table as I raised my glass and toasted, “Here’s to the start of a new friendship that will change things for the better.”
“Indeed,” Payton said, clinking her glass against mine. I watched as she sipped the wine, her eyes shining in the warm light that shone from the hanging lamp. “Oh, that’s delicious. Good choice.”
“I try,” I smiled as I leaned back and tried to focus on taking the conversation in a direction that would give me an opening to talk about why I’d brought her here, but she took charge of the conversation and soon we were off and running, talking about teams and stats and the likelihood that the Storm would make the playoffs this year.
As the meal progressed, I learned more about Payton’s background and her education, and was impressed with her single-minded focus on accumulating the knowledge required for her to be part of a football dynasty. I asked questions here and there, but mostly I listened and answered her questions about how I’d amassed my fortune and why I’d wanted a franchise team badly enough to endure the process of being vetted for the league.
“You know, my Pop used to say that you could tell a lot about a man by the way he treated the people whose names he didn’t know,” I said as we got on the topic of star athletes who might not be as productive as the unknowns. “I’ve always watched players to see how they deal with that, and I’ve rarely been wrong.”
“So you’re saying the ones who think they’re God’s gift, might be the most talented, but might not be the best addition to the team,” Payton said as she speared a piece of chicken off of my plate and popped it in her mouth.
“Unless they steal my food,” I laughed as I watched her chew.
“Stop stressing, I said I’d split the check with you, Connor,” she grinned as she took another bite of her own dinner and waited for me to reply. Unable to take my eyes off of her full lips, I watched her slowly chew as I recalled how it had felt to kiss those lips. She swallowed, and asked, “You okay, Connor? You look a little lost over there.”
“Huh? Oh, no, I’m fine,” I said as I pivoted and sent the conversation in a new direction. “What do you want to do with your career? I mean, what do you see yourself doing in 10 years?”
“Nice recover,” she grinned as she set her fork down and picked up her wine glass. She leaned back and stared at me with an intense look as she considered my question. I said nothing as I watched her gather her thoughts before she spoke again. She laughed lightly, “What do I want to do? Where do I see myself? Man, this sounds like the beginning of an intense interview.”
“I’m serious,” I said picking up the wine bottle and offering her a refill. She held out her glass and as I poured I noticed that her hand was absolutely steady.
“Well, if we’re talking realistically, I could see myself doing recruiting for a college team,” she said frowning slightly as she explained. “That’s if I don’t cave into my mother and wind up married to some man who sees me as nothing more than a socialite from a Chicago legacy.”
“Perish the thought,” I said shaking my head.
“I’m not kidding, Dax,” she said setting her glass down and leaning forward resting her elbows on the table. The intensity of the look on her face made me want to grab a handful of her thick, blonde hair and pull her to me. Instead, I cleared my throat and shifted my gaze to the wine glass in my hand as
I listened to her speak. “If you ask me where I want to see myself in 10 years, I’d tell you that I want to be the GM for the Bears. I know if I had the chance to work on bargaining for some of the great talent out there, I could absolutely do the job, but my mother is hellbent on keeping that from happening, so if I’m honest, I’ll tell you that I’ll probably end up in some mid-level administrative support position that requires me to throw fund raisers and generate positive publicity for the team.”
“That sounds like settling to me,” I said.
“No shit, Sherlock,” she snorted as she took another sip of her wine and leaned back again. “I’ll be woefully underutilized, but at least I’ll still have one foot in the game, right?”
“Would you folks care to see our dessert menu this evening?” the server said as she gathered up the empty plates on one arm before brushing the crumbs off of the table with her free hand. I looked over at Payton and raised a questioning eyebrow. She shook her head slightly.
“Just the check, please,” I smiled and then added, “And give it to me.”
Payton burst into laughter as the server walked away looking mildly amused. I grinned back as I drained the last of the wine in my glass and said, “Would you care to see the view of the city from my balcony?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she smiled.
CONTRACT VOLUME II
Chapter Twelve
Payton
I’d felt the chemistry between Dax and I building over dinner, and as we took the elevator up to his place, I was intensely aware of how small the space was and how much I wanted a replay of the night before, but without Jack calling a foul from outside the bathroom door. I was mildly embarrassed about my drunken groping, so I’d steeled myself against making the same mistake twice. I stood close enough to inhale the woody scent of his cologne and imagine what it would smell like mixed with his sweat, but not so close that Dax would think I was, again, putting the moves on him.
“Don’t you think so?” Dax asked as the elevator swiftly moved upward.
“I’m sorry, what?” I said shaking my head to clear my indecent thoughts.
“It’s a shame that teams don’t expand their staff to include a more diverse group,” he said, giving me a funny look.
“Indeed,” I nodded. “But football is a boy’s club and getting a foot in the door might be a start.”