The rest of the week went smoothly as Payton and I fell into a familiar rhythm of work followed by dinner out, and then long nights full of the task of learning each other’s bodies. It was exhilarating yet exhausting, and by Friday we were both worn out. Payton had spent the week scouting the up-and-coming players for the next draft, and I’d had several interviews with candidates for the GM position.
Over dinner on Friday night, I decided to broach the topic of the Storm’s new GM with Payton. I knew it would be a touchy topic, but I also knew, after watching her work and hearing her talk about her passion for the game, that she was the one person who would give me an honest answer about my choice — even if it wasn’t her.
“So, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the interviews,” I said, carefully lobbing my intent at her. She studied the menu in front of her for a little longer than she normally did, and then put it down and smiled.
“So shoot,” she said. I tried to gauge her emotional state but if she was upset, she hid it well so I continued.
“I’ve got a couple of guys who I think might be a good fit, but I’m not sure if my gut reaction is right or not,” I said as the server put two wine glasses down and poured a dark-red Cabernet in each of them. She took our orders and then silently moved away.
“Who are you considering?” Payton asked before she sipped from her glass. So far, so good.
“It’s down to Al Mendoza and Herb Carter,” I said.
“You’re shitting me,” she said with a shocked look. I smiled because I’d already anticipated her response to my final two choices. “You cannot be serious. You’re going to try and bring in one of the two guys who were in the running for the Bears’ job? That’s insane.”
“Why? I think it’s smart,” I said picking up my glass. “They were on the short list for the Bears, so that means they must have had something going for them.”
“Dax, neither one of them were under serious consideration,” she said shaking her head. “Everyone knew that Ryan Pace was going to get the job, but my mother wanted to make it look like she’d conducted a real search before making a decision, so she picked candidates that she knew wouldn’t stack up against Pace in the eyes of the team and staff.”
“I don’t believe that,” I said. “Mendoza and Carter both have excellent records as recruiters and executives for the teams they’ve worked for, and they’re both deeply involved in their communities.”
“Indeed they do,” she nodded. “I’m just saying that they don’t have the kind of inside knowledge that you need to ensure that the Storm get the players they need. They’re smart men, and they have a lot to offer, but…”
“But they’re not you,” I said, realizing where she was going with this.
“You said it, not me,” she shrugged. I started to say something, but our server interrupted and put our dinner plates on the table. Payton dug into her dinner without looking up as I wondered if I should continue the conversation. She answered my question when she quietly said, “You should go with your gut and pick the one you think will be the best fit for the Storm.”
I nodded knowing that the problem was I wasn’t invested in the team the way I should be, so I didn’t have a gut feeling to follow.
Chapter Forty
Payton
Sunday morning, I woke dreading the decision I knew I was going to have to make. The Storm was set to play the Bears at Soldier Field, and I knew my mother was going to be furious when she found out I was sitting in the visitor’s box with Dax. He and I had a tense conversation on Friday night, but we’d managed to find a middle ground that allowed us to continue doing what we seemed to do best.
I rolled over and found him lying on his back with his hands behind his head staring up at the ceiling. Waking up next to Dax was something I enjoyed. Whether he was sleeping or awake, I could tell there was something going on in his brain, and I was constantly trying to understand what he was thinking. He didn’t seem to mind my questioning, and that often led us into passionate discussions that ended only when one of us could no longer keep our hands off the other. I smiled as I reached out and rested my hand on his chest.
“What are you thinking?”
“Just wondering about how today’s game is going to turn out,” he said.
“I thought you didn’t care about football,” I teased as I moved closer and rested my cheek against his chest.
“I don’t,” he said, lightly kissing the top of my head. “I’m just curious about how the Storm is going to perform in Chicago, but away from their home turf.”
“I imagine they’ll perform the same way they do anytime they are away,” I said as I traced a wavy line on his skin with the tip of my finger, and felt him shiver.
“If you start that, we’re going to be late, you know,” he said sternly, but with a smile.
“Mmm hmm,” I said as I tipped my face up and kissed my way up his jaw line so I could whisper, “It’s fashionable to be late.”
Dax closed his eyes for a moment, nodded, and then quickly flipped the covers aside and got out of bed.
“Hey, where are you going?” I cried.
“We’ve got a game to attend, lady,” he said heading for the shower. “Get your priorities straight, will ya?”
I laughed as I pulled myself out of bed and went to make us coffee and breakfast.