The Devil in Denim (29 page)

“You’re taking my business decisions as personal ones. Which is partly my point. You’re not ready to run something like the Saints if you can’t separate personal from business.”

“The Saints are personal. They’re my family.”

“Then stop acting like a spoiled rich girl who’s always gotten what she wants and stop and think about what’s best for them. Try some loyalty to your team.”

“You and your fucking loyalty. What the hell do you want from people?”

“I want people who’d run into a fire with me and pull me out the other side,” he snarled.

She froze. “What?”

“I said I want people who would run into a fire with me.”

“Oh and you’ve run into burning buildings with Mal and Lucas, have you?”

“Actually, yes.” His eyes burned into hers, green spotlights.

Fire? When? How? She struggled for a response, her anger knocked sidewise by his simple statement. “What?”

“I’m not going to talk about it. You have a decision to make. Go make it because until you do, you can’t be here.”

“I’m not a dog, you can’t just order me out of the room.”

“I’m asking you to leave,” he said. “I have things to do to make sure Will Sutter doesn’t get his hands on your precious Saints, and like I said, until you make up your mind then you can’t be involved in those things. Much as I’m sure Sutter would love to know everything I’m planning, I’m not going to give you any more ammunition.”

“You’re sure you want to do this?”

“Do what? Get back to work?”

“Alex, listen to me. I walk out that door and you and I are done. Regardless of what I decide. I might come back and work for you but that will be it. Understand me?”
Change your mind,
she thought desperately.
Ask me to stay
.

He nodded. “I understand,” he said tightly. “That’s your prerogative of course.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Her throat had gone tight, her voice sounded distant in her ears.

“I’m not sure what else I can possibly say that’s not going to make this situation worse,” he said. “I can’t let you be involved in anything to do with the deal until I know that you’re staying with us. If you can’t accept that that’s a business decision, then I don’t see how I can change your mind.”

“Must be nice to be a man, able to compartmentalize things so neatly.”

His mouth twisted. “Trust me, right now, it’s not nice at all. But that’s what business is about, Maggie. Sometimes you’ve got to upset people to do the right thing.”

“No wonder you and Dad get along so well,” she said. “You’re exactly the same.”

“In some things, yes,” Alex said. He started to say something else, then shook his head and looked at the door, then back to her. “I’m sorry but there are people waiting for me. Call me when you know what your decision is.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all there can be,” he said. He walked over to her, stared down at her with eyes that revealed nothing. “Good-bye, Maggie.”

And then he strode past her and left her standing alone in the middle of the empty office.

*   *   *

Maggie made it back down to the street, carried on a tide of righteous indignation. Alex fucking Winters. Why the hell did he have to be such a stiff-minded, unyielding bastard? She kept reliving the fight in her head, hearing his words over and over again.
Spoiled little rich girl. Someone’s got to tell you the truth. Not ready. Business not personal.

Screw that. It was personal. It was her
life
. The anger coiled and fizzed in her stomach, and she focused on it. Part of her, the part she was keeping ruthlessly pushed away right now, was reeling with a sense of loss and pain. Alex.

She’d told him it was over. Which was the right thing to do, yes, because she really couldn’t see how she could be with someone who had to have everything his way. But still … Alex.

Alex with his arms around her. Alex kissing her with laughter in his eyes. No. Stop it. No nostalgia. It wasn’t like they’d even been together, really. This was business. She was going to make her choice and then, regardless of what that choice was, she was keeping Alex Winters firmly in the sort of box he wanted to keep her in. The “only one thing” box. Business not pleasure. There were plenty of other guys anyway, but there was only one thing she wanted to do with her life. So this had to be about that, not about him.

Damn it.

Pity it was too early to start drinking. Today had almost been a tequila-worthy day. Which was a pretty sad comment when it was only closing in on eleven
A.M.
So, no, no drinking. Just thinking. She decided to walk home. It was cold but not as bad as the past few days, and she had her coat and her boots were warm. Home the long way along the Hudson and the Highline. That might clear her head and let her think.

She headed toward the river, feeling the cold against her face. It was comforting in a strange way, a contrast to the burning anger in her stomach. Her legs had found a rhythm by the time she reached the water and she walked without paying much attention to her surroundings, other than the minimum necessary to avoid collisions with the cyclists and joggers and other fitness enthusiasts crazy enough to brave the elements. She’d gotten as far as the
Intrepid
when the sound of her name made her stop.

She twisted around, half hoping to see Alex. But no, that was foolish. He wasn’t the sort to come chasing after a woman. Not when he had his deal to do. No, the tall man loping toward her, dressed in shorts and compression tights and several layers of sweatshirts, wearing dark glasses and a fleece beanie pulled tight over his dark hair, was Ollie.

Ollie doing incognito, but she knew his face and the way he moved too well to be fooled by stubble and glasses and a hat.

She waved at him and smiled, bouncing on her toes as the cold bit now that she’d stopped moving. “Hey,” she said as he reached her. “What are you doing out here?”

Ollie’s New York apartment was all the way up on the Upper West Side. He’d chosen it for its proximity to the park, which was his favorite place to jog when he was in town.

He pulled a face. “Too soggy in my neighborhood,” he said. “I felt like a change of scenery.” He cocked his head. “I could ask you the same question. I thought all you management types would be cooped up today trying to work out what to do about Sutter?”

“They are.” “They,” not “we.” She swallowed, glad of her own sunglasses, shielding her eyes from Ollie’s gaze.

“So why aren’t you?” He was jogging in place too, reminding her, as always, of a greyhound, all lean body and sleek charm and long limbs.

She paused, wondering what she wanted to tell Ollie. He was her friend but he was also a Saints player. She didn’t want them knowing about Sutter’s offer to her until she’d decided what she was going to do about it.

“I wanted to clear my head, came down for a walk.”

“It’s a long way for a walk,” he said.

Busted. She was halfway back to her place.

“So?” She shrugged and started walking again, needing to move before the wind, which was picking up, froze her in place.

“So, I’m guessing this has to do with Sutter offering you a job,” Ollie said as he fell into step beside her.

Maggie halted with a jerk. “What do you mean?”

“He did, didn’t he? Offered you the Saints?”

“How do you know that?”

“He told me.”

She stared up at him. “What are you doing talking to Will Sutter?”

“Maggie, he’s talking to all of us. Making offers.”

Crap. Of course he was. Though damn, if he’d moved on from going through agents to calling players directly, he was upping his game already. “He told you he’d made me an offer?”

Ollie nodded. “I told him the Saints were likely to side with you, and he said he was making you an offer we’d all be happy with.”

Double crap. How many others of the team had Will told? Triple crap. Just as well she’d come clean with Alex or he’d be hearing it thirdhand by now.

“Will Sutter has a big mouth.”

Ollie grinned. “Big checkbook too.”

“How much did he offer?” she asked. She hadn’t grilled Sutter on exactly how much he was willing to pump into the Saints. In retrospect, that was a dumb move. A mistake Alex wouldn’t have made. Mega crap. Maybe he was right. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this.

“Triple my current package in the first year. Escalating from there.”

There was no way the Saints could offer anything like that much. Not unless Alex and Mal and Lucas wanted to start throwing more of their own funds into the coffers. And she knew their plan was to fix the immediate problems and work on building the team, not just try to buy their way out of trouble. Which Sutter obviously knew too. “And?”

“Well, I told him I’d think about it. How about you?”

“The same.” She started walking again.

“How did Winters take that?” Ollie asked.

“It’s not his decision.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“I told him.”

“Ah. I guess that explains what you’re doing out here then. Banished, are you?”

“He’s giving me time to make up my mind,” Maggie said. “Until then, it’s only sensible that I don’t know what’s happening from his perspective.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“It’s business,” she said.

“It’s bullshit. He should be trying to convince you to stay.”

“I’m fine,” Maggie lied.

“So, are you thinking about it?” Ollie asked. “Being CEO?”

She shrugged and sidestepped a small white dog that was trotting down the path at the end of a long red leash, held by a man who was more interested in his phone conversation than his dog. “Of course I’m thinking about it.”

“I think you should do it,” Ollie said.

“You do?” She smiled at him, his words lifting her misery a little. Someone who believed in her. Someone who understood. Pity it was the wrong someone.

“Sure, it’s what you’ve always wanted, right? What your dad would’ve done if he hadn’t lost his mind and sold to Winters and his pals.”

“Yes,” Maggie admitted. “But it’s not entirely that simple. Sutter might move the team.”

Ollie shrugged. “Teams move. It happens. Everyone survives. Look at the Bluejays. Outrage and fury, and then it all worked out.”

“You wouldn’t mind moving to Texas?”

“I grew up in Arizona, remember. It’s not that different. Warmer in winter than here, that’s for sure.” Ollie shivered dramatically.

“You’d give up New York?”

“Wouldn’t have to give it up. It’s not going anywhere. I’d still have my place for the off-season. It’s not like I get to spend all my time here anyway.”

Maggie paused, stared out across the river at the Jersey side. Ollie made it sound easy but this place was deep in her bones. She’d grown up in this world bisected by a big gray river and linked by bridges. Staten Island and Deacon Field and the city.

The lights and sounds and smells of them ran through her memories like a tide. Home.

But as Ollie said, New York wasn’t going anywhere. It would still be here.

Her real home wouldn’t be though. Deacon Field. If Sutter moved the Saints, no doubt he’d sell off the stadium to the highest bidder. Who’d promptly tear it down and build another mall or endless houses or whatever was making the most money in terms of island real estate these days. No more old creaky stands and big spiked tower.

No more Saints.

Not unless she convinced Sutter to keep them here.

And that would be more of that giving in to emotion that Alex accused her of. If she was CEO of the Saints, then she’d have to do what made the most financial sense.

“What do you think the rest of the team would think about moving?”

Ollie shrugged, linked his arm through hers. She appreciated the extra warmth so she didn’t move away. Ollie was part of her memories too. Friend, then lover, and now friend again. “Some of them will be happy, some won’t want to. None of them are likely to argue with the money though.”

She sighed. “Is that all there is to it?”

“Well, if Sutter wins, then it will be,” Ollie said. “So it’s not like we’re going to argue with him and say, ‘no, don’t pay us more.’ People need to eat.”

“Not many of you are struggling to eat,” Maggie shot back.

“No, but people are allowed to make money,” Ollie said.

“So more money and moving is better than the Saints staying here?”

Ollie shrugged again. “Like I said, for me it doesn’t matter. Others would disagree. They like Winters.”

Maggie looked up at his tone, saw his brows draw down. “And you don’t?”

“The man’s a suit. He doesn’t know baseball.”

“He’s a Saints fan. Which is more than you can say for Sutter.”

“Tom fired him, he didn’t exactly have a choice to stay.”

“Still…” Maggie hesitated, unsure what her point even was. “I think Alex used to play ball.”

“A thousand years ago back in college.”

Maggie frowned. College? “He did?”

“Sure. That’s how the three of them met. They were at U of T. When that big fire at the stadium happened. You remember, some crazy survivalist type planted a bomb to protest something or other. People died.”

I want people who’ll run into a burning building with me
.

Holy crap, he hadn’t been talking metaphorically.

“I didn’t know that,” she said, feeling winded

“Yeah, he quit after that, I think. Probably wasn’t going to cut it anyway,” Ollie said. “Suits don’t play baseball.”

Maggie pictured the easy swing of Alex’s body hitting balls in the batting cage. Ollie had that one wrong.

“Damn, it’s freezing,” Ollie said. “Want to stop for coffee?” They were nearing Pier 66; she could walk the High Line from here. Climbing up on the elevated walkway to wend their way up toward Chelsea would mean being in the full teeth of the wind. But she wanted to get home. Home to think.

She shook her head. “No, I want to keep walking. You go back if you want to.”

Ollie stopped, looked over his shoulder back the way they’d come. “Just as quick to come to your place and cab it back,” he said.

“Not exactly a workout.”

“You sound like Lucas.”