4
I can”t get Noah”s immoral offer to trade a job for a date out of my head. I know that I should decline. What will I do if he bails on me? He gets the date and then he”s over the hill and gets another agent. He seemed very certain when he said he didn’t want to work with me. In fact, he”s not interested in working with me professionally at all. I can somewhat understand his skepticism. I”m twenty-two years old and I don”t have the same professional experience as a thirty-year-old agent. I realize that, but he doesn”t have the experience as a quarterback that my dad has, and yet the team and the club trust him. Young people need experience.
Maybe my comparison is a little flawed because my dad will never be able to do the physical things that Noah does today. Still, it wouldn”t be fair to deny him a chance just because he”s old.
No matter how I look at it, Noah won”t work with me until I go out with him. That”s a fucking problem.
What do I do if he keeps asking for more and more? One date for a job and another for a deal. God, I can spin this wheel over and over again. On the other hand, every date I go on secures another collaboration and my reputation as a consultant in the industry. It”s not the worst business, but ... no. An agent doesn”t date the first player she”s assigned. Especially not the quarterback of the Boston Foxes.
My reputation in the business would be ruined. Going from ‘daddy’s girl’ to ‘NFL bitch’ who gets it on with the superstar.
Great career, Cara!
I should stop thinking about the fact that I really like Noah and instead gather the facts and my own resolutions: Never date a professional athlete!
Don”t end up like your mom!
My parents have been together for over twenty years, and my mom loves my dad very much, but I know too well how often she felt lonely when he had to travel across the country.
That”s not the life I want to live as a grown woman, much less the life I want my children to live. What if Noah is traded by the Foxes in a year? Will we move then? Does he expect his girlfriend to follow him wherever he goes?
My mind is going completely crazy. I haven”t even agreed to a date with the guy and I”m already thinking about not moving for him. Wow.
I turn off the engine of my Ferrari and get out of the car. On my way to the front door, I hope my father isn”t home and doesn”t want to know about the current state of the negotiations. He won”t be happy that I couldn”t win Noah over right away. More importantly, he won”t be happy that I couldn”t get him to sign with Corse Sports Management. He is my father, and he loves me, but, of course, he is also a businessman and I am his employee.
As soon as I enter the villa, I hear him calling: “Cara?”
I sigh.
“Is that you?” he adds.
“Yes,” I reply, walking into the kitchen. He is standing at the kitchen island, stirring his espresso. He looks at me with a smile. “Hey Dad,” I greet him.
“Hello,” he says, and I can see in his eyes how eager he is to hear more about my meeting with Noah.
“How did it go with McCarter?” is his next question.
I bite my lower lip and consider for a second whether to tell him the truth. That it went rather badly, and that Noah is trying to blackmail me.
“Fine,” I lie instead and put on a smile. “It went really well ... we ... we got ... we discussed our collaboration thoroughly.”
I don”t sound nearly as confident as I want to. My father raises his eyebrows and looks at me questioningly.
I sigh. “He was a little worried because I”m only twenty-two.”
“I didn”t expect that from him. He doesn”t seem like that at all,” he replies thoughtfully.
“Hm,” I mutter.
I raise my arms and shrug.
“But don”t worry, Daddy,” I say, more to myself than to him. “I”ll get him under contract. Just give me two more days.”
“Why two?”
“Why not?” I ask the counter question. “I”ll send him another e-mail and get all the information from his last agent You”ll see - I can do it!”
“You will,” he replies, smiling at me. “You”re my daughter after all.” He winks at me. I smile weakly, but my father is far from finished with his praise: “I am so proud of you and so happy to have you working in my company. I know my only child will run it in my spirit when the time comes.”
I swallow hard and the guilt I feel towards him almost consumes me. Maybe I should tell him the truth about Noah and our work together.
“Mr. McCarter suggested we have dinner.”
“You and him?”
“Yes.” I step closer to the kitchen island and place my hands on it. “Do you think that”s a ... well ... good idea?”
I”m certainly not going to tell my dad that Noah really wants to go on a date.
“Well,” he replies, thinking about Noah”s supposed suggestion. “There”s nothing wrong with dinner. I”ve gone out to dinner with my agent many times.”
“But?” I hear myself shouting inside. My father has a ‘but’, and probably a damn good one.
“You”re a beautiful woman, Cara,” he says. “The most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Daddy!” I scold. “Don”t let Mom hear that.”
“Your mom knows,” he replies with a grin. “My little girl is the prettiest in my eyes. But what I will say is that you are a beautiful woman, twenty-two years old and therefore his age.”
“What are you getting at?” I feel uncomfortable.
“My point is that maybe a different relationship will develop between you and him...”
“Dad!” I look at him indignantly. “I”m not like that!”
“Cara,” he says, sighing, “if you like him, it will come naturally. And that could affect your professional relationship. Both positively and negatively. Your mother has been my most important advisor over the years. No matter how much I threw down the throat of the guys in my management. I always asked your mom first.”
“He wants to have dinner with me, not propose.”
I roll my eyes and my father grins. “I just wanted to have dinner with your mom and then I married her.”
“And how many years in between?”
“Five!”
“So,” I conclude. “I have all the time in the world.”
“Cara,” he says, getting serious again. “You can go out with him and celebrate a business deal with him. But he”s still your client. Of course, something unplanned can always happen, but I think you know what I mean.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime,” he replies, sipping his espresso. “I”ll be in the basement working out.”
It”s unbelievable that he still values exercise after so many years. At twenty-two, I”m already too lazy to work out.
“Okay,” I say. “I”ll get back to Mr. McCarter.”
“Great” Dad puts the empty cup in the dishwasher and leaves me alone.
I walk out of the kitchen in the opposite direction and up the stairs to my room. On the way, I pull my cell phone out of my purse and open the chat with Marina.
*Cara: He”s my client!!!
I push open my bedroom door, put my purse on the small stool next to the door, and sit down on the couch. There I reach for my MacBook to open my e-mail program.
*Marina: Who?
*Cara: The guy from the bar!!! Noah!!!
*Marina: The hottie with the fork?
*Cara: Yeah!
I roll my eyes at her comment about the fork. She”ll tease me about that forever. I”m sure of it. My cell phone rings and Marina”s name comes up.
“Hello,” I answer, grinning.
“Oh my God!” she screams without a greeting. “Is he as hot as he was in the bar? Who is he? What”s he doing?”
“Marina,” I sigh. “Calm down.”
“I can”t,” she whines. “You totally screwed up with him and now he”s back. It’s fate!”
“Oh God,” I groan, running my fingers through my hair, “you”re crazy. And to answer your question. He”s Noah McCarter, quarterback of the Boston Foxes.”
“Holy shit,” she gasps, “wow, how did that go?”
“Well,” I huff, sinking deeper into my couch. “He”ll only work with me if I go out with him.”
“On a date?”
“Yes,” I groan.
“Oh wow,” she says, actually speechless. This hardly ever happens. Marina always has something to say. But this time she is silent. I am very surprised.
“Have you said yes yet?” she wants to know, and I roll my eyes. Of course, that”s all she”s interested in and not the fact that going out with him would get me in trouble.
“I”m not dating my future client,” I reply indignantly. “I can’t. It”s unprofessional.”
“What if it works out?” she tries again.
“Marina,” I warn. “Please.”
“Okay, okay,” she backs down. “You really want him as a client?”
“Yes,” I say. “I don”t think this meeting is a good idea.”
“On the other hand,” she says, and I know what”s coming. Marina is going to convince me to go on a date with Noah after all. “What do you have to lose? If he doesn”t become your client afterwards, okay. And if the date sucks, that’s okay too. Just look at it as a chance to meet a hot guy and get a new, your first, client.”
“Marina,” I mutter. “Why did I call you?”
“Because I”m your best friend, you love me, and I only want what”s best for you.”
“Probably,” I chuckle. “I”ll send him an e-mail.”
“How formal,” she mumbles, and I laugh.
“Of course it”s formal,” I insist. “I want to keep it formal. I don”t want him to think I”m interested in him.”
“Which, of course, you aren”t,” she replies with a laugh. “I get it. Write him an e-mail and play hard to get. It”s sexy.”
“I don”t want to be sexy; I want to be professional.”
“You”re not one to make things simple,” she scolds, and I roll my eyes. “Try it and go out with the hot guy. I bet the sex with him is amazing.”
This comment is also typical of Marina. I”m not interested in sex with Noah. Why should I be? What would I gain by having sex with him? That”s right. Nothing at all.
“Cara?” she asks, “Are you still there?”
“Sure,” I reply hastily. “I need to get in touch with him, yeah?”
“Of course,” she giggles, “I”ll see you around, yeah?”
“Yep,” I say and hang up. I save myself the goodbye and reach for my MacBook. I set it on my lap and open my e-mail program.
To: Noah McCarter
From: Cara Catherine Corse
Subject: Collaboration
Dear Mr. McCarter,
I would love to talk again about working together.
Sincerely,
Cara Catherine Corse
Corse Sports Management
Satisfied, I send the e-mail and want to sit back and relax, but my eyes are constantly glued to the screen in front of me. I keep reminding myself not to reload the program. Every child knows that a new e-mail will appear immediately.
Am I starting to lose it? Probably.
Suddenly a new e-mail appears. Much faster than I thought. I frantically grab the device.
To: Cara Catherine Corse
From: Noah McCarter
Subject: RE: Collaboration
Hi Cara,
When are you free? I”ll make a reservation for us at Venus.
Noah
I blink. That”s his response? He doesn”t even begin to answer my message, but directly states that he”s making a reservation? At the most expensive restaurant in town, crawling with photographers?
To: Noah McCarter
From: Cara Catherine Corse
Subject: RE: RE: Collaboration
Hi Mr. McCarter,
Please let me know if you”re willing to discuss the upcoming collaboration further.
Cara Catherine Corse
Corse Sports Management
I send the e-mail and place the MacBook on the table in front of me. Then I go to my closet to pick out a comfortable sweat suit for the evening. But I don”t get very far because my e-mail program stops me again. Stupid as I am, I turn on my heel and hurry back. I flop down on the couch and reach for my laptop.
To: Cara Catherine Corse
From: Noah McCarter
Subject: Date!
The subject line says how important my e-mail is!
Here is my number so you can reach me.
+1 66 8888888
Noah
I puff out my cheeks and don”t know whether to laugh or cry. Noah is so rude and kind of cute at the same time. He wants this so much, but I can”t just casually text him. Grinning, I start typing another e-mail.
To: Noah McCarter
From: Cara Catherine Corse
Subject: Thank you
Thanks for the number, but unfortunately, I left my work cell phone at the office today.
Have a great evening.
Cara
I”m more than curious to see how he responds.
When my phone beeps - and not my e-mail program - I reach for it. At first, I think Marina or a friend has written to me, but when an unlisted number appears on the screen, I have a different feeling.
My first thought about who it belongs to is confirmed by the message preview on the lock screen.
My heart races and I tap the message with trembling fingers.
*+1 66 8888888: That’s the number!
Grinning, I type a reply.
*Cara: That”s harassment!
*Noah: Not when all I can think about is you!
I open my mouth and close it again when the damn thing in my hand rings. He”s calling!