Catching Cameron: A Love and Football Novel (32 page)

Cameron allowed herself an epic eyeroll. “Laurie, question. Remember when you told me FOX Sports wanted to make me an offer?”

“Yes. Why? Is there a problem there?”

“You could say that.”

Laurie let out a sigh. “They love you right now.”

“Well, Laurie, they sure have one hell of a way of showing it. They’re using a new on-air personality as of this morning.” Cameron heard Laurie gasp. “Will you call FOX Sports at your earliest convenience and ask them if that offer is still on the table at all?”

“Are you sure?” Laurie asked. “You’ll have to observe your non-compete if you go anywhere else. I’m not sure it would be a good career move, either.”

Hmm. Moving from a cable network to a Big Four job was always a good move, but Laurie seemed willing to overlook that. “I’d like to know if they are an option for me at all. Please call me back right away when you hear from them.”

“I will do that, but Cameron, again, do you really want to go there? I’d like to talk more about this.”

“I’m positive. Please make the call. I’ll be happy to talk with you about why I’m exploring the option when you have a little more time. Thanks for doing this for me, and I hope you’re having a good day.”

“Sure. I’ll talk with you when I hear from them.”

“Great. See you later. Bye.”

Cameron ended the call and let out the breath she’d been holding. The next call was going to be even riskier, if that was possible. She scrolled through her contacts list, clicked on the number, and listened to it ring. She heard her father’s voice.

“Ondine.”

I
T DIDN’T TAKE
long to figure out why Zach hadn’t been especially eager to talk with her about what he’d said to her dad, especially when her dad told her he’d put Walter Doyle, owner of PSN, on blast over the phone shortly afterward.

“Dad, that wasn’t a great thing to do.”

“Cameron Bennett Ondine, nobody treats my daughter like that,” he boomed into the phone.

“Okay, Dad. Thanks. I think. I’ll talk with you later.”

She expected her father to act like he had, but she was pretty upset with Zach, too. She understood why he’d done what he did, but she was hurt that he didn’t think more of her ability to take care of herself. She wouldn’t interfere in his professional life. Why did he think he could do the same to her?

Cameron ended the call and pulled up an airline site on her iPad. She wasn’t going to be able to fix these problems remotely, and she needed to take control of her life and her career. The only way to do that was to go back to New York for a couple of days. She also dialed Zach’s number on her cell. He was getting ready for practice. He wouldn’t hear the message for quite some time afterward, but she’d leave one anyway. “Zach, there’s some things I need to take care of. I’ll be back in a couple of days. I think we need to talk.”

She ended the call. She booked a flight to New York, texted her producer that she’d be back in two days, and called a cab to pick her up in front of the facility in an hour and a half.

T
WO HOURS LATER,
Zach realized he hadn’t seen Cameron in the facility during practice. She and the Earphones were nowhere to be found. Logan walked by a few minutes later; Zach grabbed his arm.

“Hey. Where’s Cameron?”

“I saw her getting into a cab a few minutes ago,” Logan said. “I’ll let her know you’re looking for her when I see her again.”

“Thanks.”

Zach walked away from him into the locker room and stripped out of his uniform and pads to take a shower. The voicemail light on his phone was blinking. Maybe one of his sisters called or something. He toed off his cleats and sat down on the bench in front of his locker while he punched in the password to his voicemail.

Thirty seconds later, his heart dropped. “We need to talk”? Cameron was a lot more than pissed: She’d left. Her voice sounded strained and unhappy. He’d lost her again. It was all he could do to hold it together while surrounded by his talking, laughing teammates.

Chapter Twenty-Four

A
FTER THE RAIN-WASHED
fresh air and relative quiet of Seattle’s suburbs, the bustling sidewalks, acres of neon overhead and perma-honking motorists of New York City was like landing on another planet. Cameron swiped her credit card through the cab’s backseat card reader. She grabbed her Birkin bag off the seat, thanked the cabbie, and launched herself onto the crowded sidewalk in front of Pro Sports Network’s corporate offices.

The only time Cameron had visited this part of PSN’s executive offices before was when she signed her contract. The room was crowded with network execs and on-air talent at the time. She remembered shaking a hundred hands, scrawling her name in a couple of places on the paperwork, and being whisked out for a press conference with Ben, where she announced her signing. She knew she’d met Walter Doyle, owner of PSN, but she didn’t remember a lot about him except that she was taller than he was.

She’d spent the past couple of days since her flight landed in New York City getting her ducks in a row for this meeting. She didn’t need to run to her father for help like a child who’d skinned a knee; she needed to handle her career problems and opportunities herself. Laurie continued to act evasive and refused to make a phone call to FOX Sports to explore the previous job offer, so Cameron dug out the business card their director of programming pressed into her hand at an industry gathering several months before and called the guy herself.

She’d hired the best attorney money could buy to review her contract with PSN. He’d found something interesting in the paperwork, which she looked forward to sharing with the owner of the network. She’d decided what the best case scenario would be for her and her career. If Mr. Doyle wasn’t willing to offer her what she wanted, it was time to take a page out of her dad’s book and go to the mattresses.

Cameron approached the executive assistant’s desk outside of Mr. Doyle’s office.

“Hi, I have a nine o’ clock appointment with Walter Doyle. I’m Cameron Ondine.”

“He’s expecting you,” the impeccably dressed young man behind the desk said. “Follow me, please.”

Cameron was shown into a corner office that was bigger than her apartment. Two walls were windows looking out over Central Park. The décor was modern, featuring chrome and leather. The owner of PSN stood up from his chair and extended his hand to her. “Ms. Ondine, it’s a pleasure.”

“Thank you, Mr. Doyle.”

“May I offer you anything? There’s coffee, still or sparkling water, or soda. I can ask my assistant to get whatever you might like.”

“No, thank you.”

He gestured for her to sit down, and he sat down as well. Cameron took two deep breaths while she refreshed her memory on the talking points she’d memorized before she fell asleep last night. She crossed her legs and leaned forward slightly in her chair.

“I appreciate your making time to meet with me this morning,” she said to him. “I realize it was last-minute.”

“We’re very happy with your ratings and the amount of advertising money
Third and Long
and
NFL Confidential
is making for the network. Your concerns are my concerns. What is it that we can do for you?”

He looked like someone’s indulgent grandfather, but she was aware that he was as cutthroat in business as her father was. The only reason he’d agreed to this meeting in the first place was because she was making him money.

“Well, Mr. Doyle, I’m glad you asked me that. I’d like to move to Seattle for family reasons. I wonder if there’s a mutually beneficial solution to this problem.”

He stared at her for a moment. “What exactly are you proposing?”

“I’d like to film my show in the Seattle area. I will still be traveling to games during football season, but I will be living there the rest of the year.”

He tapped his chin with one finger. “Why do you believe I’m going to agree to this? We sank significant resources into obtaining your services from ESPN, Ms. Ondine. We’re based in New York City. You knew this when you took the job.”

“Speaking of
Third and Long
, my contract was specific on my responsibilities with PSN. There should have been a separate negotiation for my appearance on the show, especially since my private life was exploited as part of it. My contract with your organization says that I’m allowed to leave without penalty if I agree to observe the non-compete in it.” She recrossed her legs. “I have a job offer from another sports network that’s willing to wait it out. They will be featuring me on their Sunday morning pregame show and another half-hour show during the week year-round. They’re offering a significant increase in compensation as well.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “So, you want to move to Seattle and you want a raise. Is that it?”

“The money is important, but moving to Seattle is what I want most. I’d also like to work for an organization that treats me as a professional and doesn’t exploit my private life for ratings. I’m not sure PSN is willing to do that moving forward after
Third and Long
.”

They stared at each other for a minute.

His lips curved up slightly. “No.”

She smiled in response. “No?”

“That’s right. You’ll either work in New York City, or you’ll leave PSN and deal with the non-compete.”

She wasn’t surprised at all that he ignored her comments about being treated as a professional. He appeared to be an amiable, agreeable older man, but she knew Ben would have checked out every decision he’d made on what to feature on
Third and Long
before he did so. She was a commodity to these guys, and they believed she and her work didn’t deserve their respect.

She’d be off the air during most of football season, but she could work behind the scenes at her new employer’s and hit the ground running before the NFL draft next year. She’d already discussed it with the executive that would be her new boss. It was an easy decision.

She got up from her chair, extended her hand to him, and said, “Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Doyle. I wish you and your network well.”

He shook his head. “You’ll regret this, Ms. Ondine.”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Again, thank you.” She turned to walk to the office door.

“Wait,” he said as she reached out for the doorknob. She heard the chair he’d been sitting in creak a little as he got to his feet.

“Who made you the offer, and how much of a raise?” he said.

She turned to face him again. “FOX Sports. They also offered to double my yearly salary. They’d like to increase their female viewership and hiring a female football analyst is a priority for them.” She kept the pleasant smile on her face as she gave him a nod. “It was nice to have met you. Please give my best to your family.”

She looped her handbag over her arm and turned the doorknob as he said, “I suppose you’d want to sit at the desk for our pregame, too.”

“I’d like to advance in my career, as I told you when I was hired. Why would I bother with anything less? Plus, I really don’t want to work sixteen Sundays a year with Kevin Adkins.”

They stared at each other for a minute or so. “So, you want me to get rid of Adkins, too.”

“I didn’t say that. I said I didn’t want to work with him. There’s a difference.” She shrugged.

His eyes narrowed. “What do I get out of all of this?”

“You were just telling me how pleased you were with the ratings and the increased advertising dollars I generated for your organization.”

He rubbed one hand over his face in exasperation.

“Did your father teach you how to negotiate?” he said.

“I learned that all by myself.”

A
FEW MINUTES
later Cameron walked out of the PSN offices and onto the bustling New York City sidewalk for the last time. She took a deep breath of the humidity, the car exhaust, the food smells—she’d miss living here, but she had a new life waiting for her across the country. She hit “redial” on her phone and waited for her new boss at FOX Sports to pick up the phone.

“It’s official: I’ve terminated my employment with PSN. I accept your offer,” she said.

She heard him laugh a little. “We’re glad to have you on board, Cameron. We’ll see you in Los Angeles next week, and we’ll schedule a press conference to announce your deal then.”

“I look forward to it. Thank you again.”

She had one more phone call to make, and there was no time like the present.

She stepped into the seating area of a sidewalk café and asked a server for an iced tea. “Coming right up,” the guy told her.

“Thanks.” She hit a number on her cell phone and waited for her agent to pick up. “Hi, Laurie. Yes, I understand you’re busy. This shouldn’t take long. I’ve lost faith in your representation. I’ve made other arrangements.” She waited a beat. “You’re fired.”

C
AMERON HOPPED OUT
of another cab half an hour later.

“Here goes nothing,” she muttered to herself.

She managed to get through the revolving front door at her father’s office building without incident. She had an elevator car to herself, too. When the doors opened, she strolled up to the reception desk like she didn’t have a care in the world.

The lobby of her father’s office resembled a gentleman’s club, with its dark wood paneling, wainscoting, and thick and priceless antique woven wool rugs lying over hardwood floors. The four chairs she saw were wing-backed tufted leather, facing each other in front of a five-foot-tall gas fireplace with an ornately carved mantel. The nineteenth-century British landscape painting that hung over the fireplace was worth more than her parents’ apartment on the Upper West Side. The reception desk wasn’t the modern wraparound most companies featured. It looked like an antique library table, which meant it probably was.

The woman sitting behind the desk looked like she’d just walked off the cover of the
Sports Illustrated
swimsuit issue, except she had more clothes on.

“I’m Cameron Ondine. I’d like to see my father, please.”

“Do you have an appointment?” Ms. Swimsuit Issue didn’t smile. Cameron was fairly sure that kind of thing was reserved for guys, specifically those with a high eight-figure balance in their checking account. “He doesn’t see anyone he doesn’t already have an appointment with. Let me take a look at his schedule.”