They sat side by side as they talked, and he couldn’t stop laughing at some of the shenanigans the guys got themselves into.
“But crises don’t occur every day, so mostly my job is to keep them in the spotlight in a positive way. I build their brand both inside and outside their sport and make sure community goodwill is a priority. Good press is always a bonus. And if they have an overall solid reputation, they can draw on that goodwill in times of trouble.” She handed her glass to a passing flight attendant and turned back to Hudson. “If a guy is an overall jerk and then goes on to do something stupid, nobody will cut him any slack, and the athlete won’t deserve any. Even if he is my client.”
“You love your job.” Hudson studied her with admiration and true attentiveness she rarely saw in a man when it came to her profession. Unless, of course, it provided an opening for something they needed.
She shook those thoughts out of her mind and refocused on the man next to her. As much as he was curious about her, she wanted to know more about him.
“I do love it, and I know how lucky that makes me. Not everyone can get up in the morning and do something they enjoy.” She tipped her head, leaning against the seat behind her. “What about you? Do you love your job? Or should I say jobs?”
“Hmm. Good question. I like the job with the Thunder. It moves fast on game day, and I get to watch a player from injury through to recovery, which makes it satisfying, though I haven’t been on board long enough to see anything substantial. And thank God for that.”
She nodded in agreement. Nobody wanted an injury to happen to any player in the game. “You said like, not love.”
“I loved what I did with Doctors Without Borders, though one stint really was enough for me. I’d rather be in the States and do a form of humanitarian work here. Which is why I chose the clinic. The pay from working for the Thunder lets me work for free at the health care center.”
This was the part of Hudson Northfield that drew her to him. Yes, the outside packaging was pure sex appeal, but the man inside was a kind, decent man who cared for others despite the fact that he could have gone into his family’s business and helped to make them more money.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
Their faces were close together as they spoke, creating a bubble of intimacy and making it easier to be honest. “About how much I admire you. How you could be on the money train with your family in New York, but instead you’re all about giving back. I like that about you.” She studied his expression and the look in his eyes. “What’s wrong? Something’s bothering you.”
“You’ve come to read me well in a very short time,” he said on a low chuckle. “I do have an issue to deal with while I’m home.”
She reached out and clasped their hands together. Her palms felt better now that it had been a few days since she’d fallen, and the bandages made it easier to do things. Like hold hands. “I’m a good listener … if you want to unload your problems.”
He hesitated, obviously weighing his words. “You know the plans for the clinic Braden mentioned the day he walked in on us?”
She nodded. In the rush of her sudden trip, buying a dress, packing, and making sure her clients were covered by another PR person if she wasn’t reachable, she’d forgotten to ask either man about it since.
“Braden and I want to renovate and remodel the clinic into a state-of-the-art place where people who don’t have access to insurance or good care can still come in and get treated. As it stands now, the equipment is old, the building run-down, and it’s hard to entice professionals to come work there.”
“I love that idea!”
“Obviously so do I. Braden’s going to talk to Paul Dare about funding, and I need to have the same conversation with my father. My grandfather left me money in trust, but he also made my father the trustee, and it’s at his discretion whether or not to let me have money from the principal.”
She realized he’d begun tapping a foot against the floor, his knee bouncing up and down with every contact. “You’re really wound up about this, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “My father, Martin, isn’t known for his altruism unless it makes him look good within his social or business circles. He’s not going to easily fund a clinic just because I ask him to. It would be so much easier if my grandfather had released that money when I hit a certain age.” He shook his head and groaned. “But he didn’t, and that’s that.”