Chapter Two #2
“You snake,” she says, the words muttered quietly but sharp enough to sting.
“You’re not getting this one.” She squares her shoulders and juts her chin out, the clear defiance making my palm itch.
The way I want to praise her and punish her for that boldness in equal measure is staggering.
The desire to replace that accusatory tone with breathy moans of pleasure has my cock perking up at the prospect.
I’d carry the weight of the world for this woman if it meant I get a glimpse of that genuine smile she keeps hidden away from me.
I lick my lips and lean in, chuckling when her breath catches.
“It’s a pleasure to see you, Ms. Hart, as always.
Even if it means you’ve wasted your time coming all the way out here.
” Straightening, I incline my head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a deal to close, and apparently, some Cuban pastries to eat.
” I wink. “Nice touch.” Stepping past her, I pull open the door and wait for her to enter before me.
The polite gesture has the desired effect: Sutton’s honeyed-amber eyes turn molten with indignation and anger.
And I fall for her just a little bit more.
Eventually, she folds, and I follow her into the conference room.
Once I’ve retrieved a pastry and poured myself a cup of coffee, I settle into a chair directly to Emerson’s right.
His coach sits beside him on the other side, and to Coach’s left is Emerson’s dad, then his mom.
When Gray sits down on my other side, I look at my partner, then at the empty seat beside Mrs. Bratt, and realize my mistake.
Sutton will sit down beside the kid’s mom, building on that female bond in such a way that will make me have to work twice as hard to win over the parents. I’ve made a rookie mistake, but not one I can rectify now without looking like an insolent child trying to win at a game of musical chairs.
Sutton strides around the table, all anger toward me shoved aside to make room for the knockout smile she wears now. She lights up the room, giving the late-morning Texas sun a run for its money as it shines through each floor-to-ceiling window.
In another fucking world, under literally any other circumstances, she’d be mine.
“Emerson, Mr. and Mrs. Bratt, Coach Armstead… thank you for coming today.” She holds eye contact with each of them while she says their names, making sure they each feel acknowledged and important.
She’s good. Real good.
When her gaze flicks to mine, I have to bite back a grin when her nostrils flare.
It’s entertaining how hard she tries to hate me, and I find myself trying to get under her skin more often than not.
I’ve seen her at industry events, championship games, and bars around Los Angeles…
no other agent—or male for that matter—gets this treatment from her.
None of them are on the receiving end of secret stares when she thinks no one is looking, either.
Something about me strikes a nerve; what is it about her that makes me want to strike them all?
“Mr. Cruz. Mr. Cross.” Her smile tightens at the edges. “Your presence was unexpected, but it’s always a pleasure to see you both.” That forced smile negates the pleasantry, but no one else seems to notice.
Grayson snorts quietly beside me. Clearly he’s noticed.
But then, as my best friend and righthand man, he knows all about my ridiculous crush on Sutton Hart.
“Emerson,” she begins, turning the force of her full attention on the young player.
“I know you’re busy with your last year at Texas A&M, and that your calendar is likely filling up fast.” She sits down beside Mrs. Bratt like I expected she would, then continues speaking to the kid.
“I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. You have many choices when it comes to managing your career, and I don’t take this opportunity lightly. ”
With a quick nod, Emerson leans back in his chair, his brown eyes sharp as he looks between the two of us. “I didn’t realize inviting you both here today would be an issue.” His eyes narrow as they continue to bounce between us. “Should we reschedule? Separately?”
“No,” Sutton and I blurt out in unison, equally too loud for the quiet conference room.
The kid’s mom startles and Sutton is quick to place a hand on hers.
“I’m sorry.” She chuckles in a self-deprecating way and I can’t tear my eyes away from that slight flush of pink in her cheeks.
“No, we wouldn’t dream of asking you to reschedule.
Your time is valuable, Emerson, and so is the time your parents have taken to come here today.
I think I can speak for the gentlemen from Apex Athletics when I tell you that we are pleased to proceed when you are. ”
Emerson nods slowly, then leans back in his seat, resting his clasped hands across his torso. “Okay, ladies first,” he says to Sutton. “Convince me why I need you.”
Coach clears his throat, then shoots Emerson a look. “We’ve been over this, son.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know why you think I need an agent. But I want to hear them say it, in their own words. That’s what this meeting is about, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“It’s a sales pitch, so let them sell it.” He looks at Sutton as he continues. “I’m the most sought-after QB in years. Since, I don’t know… Mahomes?”
He smirks and I have to refrain from correcting him. He’s the most sought-after quarterback since me, but I’ll remind him of that when it’s my turn at the bat.
“I have offers coming at me from all sides. Why not just pick the best one?”
It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes. I’ve done this dance too many damn times, and all of these kids are just as arrogant as the last. Hell, I was this arrogant kid once upon a time.
Feels like a lifetime ago, sure, but I can still remember thinking I hung the damn moon and expecting the whole world to bow at my feet.
Which, they did… until they didn’t.
“Listen, kid,” I begin—
“You’re right, Emerson,” Sutton interrupts, “it seems easy to just sort through the offers, find the best one and lock in. Highest dollar amount, best perks and incentives, flashiest gifts… they’re right there and ready for you to choose.
Upon last count, you have nearly all of the thirty-two teams vying for you, and that’s not something you go into blindly.
There’s so much more to this than picking the best offer. Let’s say you want to remain in Texas—”
“I do.”
Sutton nods. “But what if New England wants to pay you twice as much? Triple, even? Your agent has the tools and experience to negotiate on your behalf. You want New England’s offer matched by the Cowboys? Then I’ll make that happen.”
I lean back, watching Sutton as she pitches herself, loving her confidence and hating that I’m the one who will inevitably squash it by the end of this meeting.
“But what comes next? When your first season is secured and you’ve gotten onto the team you want with the pay you sought, when it seems you have everything you’ve ever dreamed of…
what then? There are no guarantees in this game, Emerson.
That’s why you need me, someone in your corner who is willing to fight tooth and nail to protect you, your future, and your family’s future as well.
Your family’s security won’t be an afterthought for me, Emerson. That’s a promise.
“And that’s just the beginning of what I’ll work for on your behalf.
You’ll have contracts come up for renegotiation, sponsorship opportunities, trade possibilities, endorsement deals, so much fine print and red tape to work through that—if you handled them all yourself—the sheer weight of the demands would take your head right out of the game. ”
“Fair enough,” the kid says. “Maybe it’s too much for me, but why can’t my mom handle that stuff? She went to law school.”
Sutton looks at the woman beside her and smiles. “Two years at Loyola, right?”
The kid’s mom beams, those two years clearly a source of pride.
“Then you had Emerson’s eldest brother.” She’s done her homework during all those nights on the sidelines.
Mrs. Bratt nods.
“And that’s when you made the difficult decision to stay home with him full-time.”
How Sutton manages to say that without sounding in the least bit condescending should be studied.
Especially as someone who, herself, seemingly did the opposite, choosing to pursue her own law degree before opening up Hart Strategic Management, forgoing a husband and kids for this life of deals and negotiations.
She’s not the only one who’s done their homework.
Mrs. Bratt smiles then, nodding. “Best decision I ever made.” Looking at her son now, she grins widely. “I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
“Of course not,” Sutton says as she reaches over and squeezes the woman’s hand.
“My own mother wanted to be a stay-at-home parent, but it just wasn’t in the cards for us.
” Her neck flexes on a difficult swallow and I narrow my eyes.
What’s that about? I make a mental note to look into her childhood with her mother when I have some free time.
Sutton’s father’s struggles were public knowledge, especially within the sports community, but I can’t recall hearing anything about her mom.
I guess I just assumed she’d taken a backseat to Ricky Hart’s career, but was there more to it than that?
What’s a little more homework in the name of closing the deal? A good competitor knows his opponent’s weaknesses.
“You’ve been very fortunate.” Sutton looks pointedly at Emerson. “Both of you.” Returning her attention to Mrs. Bratt, Sutton smiles and continues with, “You have a young daughter… Emma?”
“Yes, our baby is fourteen now.”