They were two consenting adults. Why should it matter that she was his agent? Why should it matter what anyone else thought?
But he knew the way the world worked, and he knew exactly what people would think if he and Payton became romantically involved. Payton was right; she would lose all credibility as an agent. An even more disturbing thought was the potential for other ballplayers to think if they signed with Mosely Sports Management they would get a little something extra as part of the deal.
Cedric’s hands balled into fists. He was ready to commit bodily harm just at the thought of another player thinking about Payton in that way. But he knew how those guys’ minds worked. Hell, he
was
one of those guys. That was the first thing he’d thought when she’d approached him. He could not expect her to jeopardize her reputation.
But what if they were extra discreet…?
“Cedric?”
“What?” He had no idea what she’d said.
“I asked if it’s okay for both girls and boys to participate in the same touch football game, or should we separate them by gender?”
“It’ll be flag football,” he answered. “No tackling.”
“Great.” She nodded. “The director said nearly all of the kids have returned their permission slips, so it looks like we’ll have about thirty participants on Saturday.”
“And you’re going to be there?” he asked.
“In the afternoon. I’m having one of my signature coffeehouse meetings Saturday morning.” She paused, a small grin creating a dimple Cedric had never noticed before. “It’s with Electronic Sports Gaming,” she said, her eyes lighting up.
“What?” Cedric nearly bolted out of his chair. ES Gaming was one of the hottest video game companies around. “Are you serious?”
“Don’t get too excited. We’re not talking the cover of
NFL Hardball
but I am hoping to get you a spot as one of the video game’s premier running backs. If we’re lucky, you may get to do your own voice-over in the game.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?”
“Because I’ve just set up the meeting with them. As I said, don’t get too excited yet. This is still very early.”
Cedric leaned back in his chair and shook his head at the hand fate had dealt him. He’d been given exactly what he’d asked for in an agent, and now half the time he wished he could fire her so he could have her for himself.
“I’ve been sitting here trying to convince myself that you’re not all that good of an agent just so I could justify dropping you. But you’re a damn good agent.”
“Thank you,” she said, though her forlorn expression told him she wished things could be different as well.
This was torture. Pure and simple.
They shouldn’t have to choose between one or the other. They shouldn’t have to worry about what other people would say, dammit. But they did. And at this point in his career Cedric knew he needed Payton, the agent, even more than he needed Payton, the potential bed partner.
“So,” he said. “You’re speaking to ES Gaming on Saturday. What else do you have lined up?”
She ticked off several clothing lines, a sports drink and a car dealership, all of which she’d learned about from her web of online connections. It struck Cedric once again how different Payton was from Gus Houseman. Gus hadn’t been willing to even talk endorsements, claiming it was never the right time. Cedric now realized it had never been the right time for
Gus.
He’d always been low on Gus’s totem pole, coming second to his former agent’s list of clients who all pulled high eight-figure salaries. Gus hadn’t been concerned with furthering Cedric’s career.
He needed someone out there fighting for him, getting his name in front of the people who mattered. He needed an agent who believed in him.
He needed Payton.
“Thank you,” Cedric told her, because he needed to.
“For what?” she asked.
“For taking this seriously. For taking
me
seriously. I was sinking when you found me, you know? I’d called just about every major agent in the business and no one wanted to take a chance on me.”
“When did it change from you taking a chance on me to the other way around?” she asked.
“When I discovered just how much I needed someone like you in my corner. As much as I want there to be something more between us—and, believe me, I want that
really
bad—I need you as my agent even more. I need you to fight for me.”
Not just for him, but for his brother, Derek, too. Payton would be his key to making sure Derek could remain at Marshall’s Place.
Payton reached across the table and covered his hand. She gave it a firm squeeze.
“Fight for you is exactly what I’m going to do.”
Chapter 8
P
ayton held a folded edition of
The Post
over her head in an attempt to shield herself from the rain that had been falling in a steady downpour for most of the day. She made sure her car doors were locked and headed for the Linden Avenue Recreation Center. Even though the mini-football camp was scheduled to end in less than an hour, Payton was relieved she was able to get here at all. Her meeting with the representative from Electronic Sports Gaming had lasted longer than she’d anticipated.
The raucous yells indicative of middle schoolers riding high on sugar and unexpended energy greeted her as she entered the rec center’s front door. She wasn’t sure how much Cedric and his teammates had been able to accomplish in the rain, but from the sound of things, the kids were having a great time.
Payton walked through the short entryway and into a bevy of activity. She recognized the Sabers players instantly. Besides the fact that they were twice as tall as the room’s other occupants, she’d also studied the backgrounds of each one of them. She knew the rookie linebacker, Percy Johnson, could have scored a much better deal than what his agent had gotten for him. Payton was biding her time before she approached the young player.
She spotted Cedric at what appeared to be the same time he noticed her. He jogged toward her, a half-dozen kids following in his wake.
“You made it,” he greeted her.
“Barely,” she replied. “It’s pouring out there. But I’m here and ready for some football.”
Cedric caught his lower lip between his teeth—and wasn’t
that
the sexiest thing she’d seen all day. He shook his head. “Sorry, but you’re too late. The flag football game ended about an hour ago.”
“And we won,” one of the kids who reached just past Cedric’s waist said. He high-fived another little boy, while the other kids in the group glared at them. Payton figured they had been on the losing team.
“So what’s left?” she asked.
“We’re just running through a few more drills. These guys—”
“And girls,” one of the girls said.
“Sorry.” Cedric smiled down at her. “These guys and
girls
didn’t know there would be a quiz at the end of today’s camp,” he finished.
“Quiz?”
“A test?”
The kids scurried away like bits of paper flying in the wind.
“You sure do know how to clear a room.” Payton laughed.
“I was kidding about the quiz. I knew that would send them running.” He grinned, looking over at the kids who had already joined the other groups. “They’re a good bunch. Other than a couple of near fights over the ball, we haven’t had any problems. To be honest, this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
“Better than spending your weekend off in Atlantic City?” Payton asked.
“Much better.” His brown eyes sparkled with amusement. Payton was no match for their magnetic pull. He caught her gaze and held it captive. Delicious little butterflies fluttered around her stomach, and her skin tingled with sparks of the electricity that snapped between them.
“Hey, C-Man!” A little boy with crooked glasses ran up to Cedric and tugged on the hem of his shirt. “Do we really have to run sprints if we miss three passes in a row?”
Cedric’s gaze finally broke away from hers. He looked over to one of the rookie wide receivers and made a cut motion, waving his hand in front of his neck.
“What? You said to make it like our normal practice,” the wide receiver called.
“They’re not getting paid to catch passes,” Cedric replied. He returned his attention to Payton. “The rookies have been harder to handle than the kids.”
“C-Man?” she asked, referring to the name the little boy had called him.
His face broke out in a grin. “Some of the kids thought I needed a nickname.”
“Ah.” Payton nodded. “And C-Man was the best you could come up with.”
“Not me, them. We’re going to call the area they sit in at the Sabers game ‘C-Man’s House.’”
“They’re going to a Sabers game? When did this come about?”
“Not one of these kids has ever been to a game. Can you believe that? I figured what’s a few tickets, you know?”
It would not be just a
few
tickets. If Payton’s estimation was correct, it would probably be close to forty since he would have to provide for chaperones, or as many as sixty if each child brought a parent. Payton knew he could afford it—Cedric was a millionaire, after all—but not every player was thoughtful enough to do something like this. And she hadn’t even had to tell him to do it. In fact, the idea had never crossed her mind.
“That is so generous of you,” she said with a sincere smile.
Again, he shrugged it off as if it were no big deal. But it was a huge deal. The image of the partying, hotheaded, troublemaking Cedric Reeves she’d mistaken him for had been replaced by this laid-back, kindhearted person who spent an entire Saturday teaching disadvantaged kids the game of football, then promised them all tickets to a game. Why hadn’t
this
Cedric been talked about in the newspapers? Payton doubted he’d made such drastic changes just in the few weeks they’d worked together. Why had his good heart been hidden from the rest of the world?
“Are you going to make me beg?” Cedric asked.
Her brows shot up at his question.
“Your meeting? ES Gaming?” he hinted. “You’ve been here for ten minutes and haven’t mentioned it.”
“I’m sorry.” Payton laughed. She should have known he’d be itching for news. Too bad she didn’t have much to share. She shrugged. “It’s still too soon for me to know what will come of it. It was a good meeting. I told my contact that I was confident you would remain a New York Saber. We’ll see how it goes. But these things take time.”
She started toward the group of kids. “So, how can I help?”
Cedric fell into step beside her. “Help? In those clothes?”
She looked down at her gray pencil skirt that ended just above the knee and the matching cinched-waist jacket. Her black three-inch heels clickety-clacked on the rec center’s painted cement floor.
“Yeah, okay. I’m not dressed for football,” Payton conceded. “The bag with my sweats and sneakers is sitting next to my front door, along with my forgotten umbrella.”
“Don’t sweat it. We’re almost done here anyway,” Cedric returned. “We’re going to go over a few more safety fundamentals and wrap it up.”
Payton stood to the side as Cedric and his teammates huddled the kids together. In a booming voice that carried throughout the open space, Cedric imparted the importance of being safe, even when playing touch football. He then led the kids in a huddle yell, much like the ones Payton had watched the Sabers do right before the start of a game. The huddle broke apart with many high fives and laughter.
“Ms. Mosely?”
Payton turned, finding Mrs. Shipley, the rec center’s director, waving her over to a side door. She pointed to a cardboard box at her feet. “This just arrived addressed to you.”
“The shirts!” Payton said, running over to the box.
She had thought to order the T-shirts two days ago. She’d found a local screen printing shop and had paid for rush delivery, but the owner had emailed to say there was a possibility the shirts still would not be delivered by today. Payton ripped the packing tape from the box and fished out a teal-and-silver T-shirt.
“Those are great,” Mrs. Shipley cooed.
“They did turn out pretty good,” Payton agreed. “Let’s go pass them out.”
The kids went wild as Payton and the director began passing out their surprise T-shirts.
“Where did these come from?” Cedric asked, lifting a shirt from Payton’s arm and holding it out. He read the caption. “The First Annual Cedric Reeves Mini-Football Camp?”
“I thought the kids would like a keepsake from their day,” Payton explained, grinning at the group of kids, many of whom pulled their T-shirts right over the tops they were wearing.
“You thought of everything, didn’t you?”
“The kids seem to like it,” she said. She glanced at him, a smile tipping up her lips. “You know what this means, right?”
“What?”
“You now have to hold a
second
annual Cedric Reeves mini-camp.”
He puffed out an exaggerated breath and rolled his eyes.
“Stop it.” Payton gave him a playful punch on the arm. “You know you enjoyed this just as much as these kids did.”
“Yeah, I did,” he admitted, an adorably sheepish grin on his lips.
Mrs. Shipley announced that the bus had arrived to take the kids home. Payton had agreed to pay the rec center’s bus driver extra for working on a Saturday, but with the rain pounding the sidewalks outside, she would make sure the man received a bonus. If not for him, the kids would have to walk home in this terrible weather.
The kids all said goodbye, many of them running up to Cedric to give him a hug. Payton’s heart filled as she watched him give each child his undivided attention as they said goodbye.
Mrs. Shipley and another of the staff members with an umbrella guided the kids in small groups to the bus. When one of the girls dropped her knapsack, Cedric darted out into the rain for it. He grabbed it from the slick sidewalk and carried it to the bus, then rushed back into the center.
“You got any T-shirts I can fit into inside that box?” he asked her, holding out his arms. He was soaked to the bone after less than a minute in the unforgiving rain.