Catch - Deborah Bladon Page 0,24
fifteen minutes. He asked how we met and she skillfully shifted the topic to France without answering his question. Fletcher’s dad loosened up as soon as he took his first sip of the imported French beer he ordered on Maren’s recommendation.
I opted for sparkling water because if my reputation is in question, I’m playing it safe.
Fletcher followed my lead. Maren chose another glass of red wine to complement the steak she ordered.
“There is a reason that people say you should visit Paris in the spring,” Maren says, and Earl eats it up like a kid with an ice cream cone.
The gray-haired accountant has a mad crush on my assistant. I don’t know whether to be grateful for that or jealous of it.
Clearing my throat, I glance in the direction of the kitchen. I have at least a few minutes before our meals arrive. “Tell me how you envision your future, Fletcher.”
Earl tosses me a look that could melt the sun. Dammit. Is he pissed that I interrupted his gabfest with Maren? I hope to hell this doesn’t result in a penalty. I want to represent Fletcher, and the route to that goal is through his father.
“The majors, I guess.” He shrugs.
I wouldn’t be here otherwise. This kid has more potential than Pace did when I met him. Fletcher is going to be on the roster of a major league team within the next six months. It’s a miracle he hasn’t signed with another agent yet.
“You’re not the only guy in town who can make that happen.” Earl loosens the blue tie around his neck.
The Newmans arrived in matching outfits. Dark blue pants, white button-down shirts, and light blue ties.
“True, but you’re not looking for just any guy. You’re searching for the best guy.” I sit back in my chair.
Maren turns to me with raised brows. She might think it’s all talk, but I believe every fucking word of it.
“We want someone who envisions the big picture to represent Fletcher.” Earl takes a sip of beer. “Look what happened to Pace Callahan. His career is over just like that.”
To accentuate the point, Earl snaps his fingers.
“His career isn’t over,” Maren pipes up. “Keats negotiated a lucrative deal that will jumpstart a new venture for Pace. You’ll be hearing an announcement very soon.”
She tosses me a glance, and I nod. I like that she stepped in and that she was vague with details. I’m surprised Pace hasn’t rented a billboard in Times Square to announce his new assignment. That might be worth looking into. Anything I can do to up his exposure will equal more money in the coffers when I revisit that deal two years from now.
“You know Pace?” Fletcher leans both elbows on the table. “I talked to him on the phone for ten minutes. Have you met him in person?”
Maren nods. “We had coffee together yesterday.”
“No shit?” Fletcher laughs.
“No shit,” I repeat with a grin.
Maren’s gaze swings toward me. “That’s a hundred to the fund.”
Before I can comment, she grimaces and mouths the words, “ I’m sorry .”
Earl laughs. “Did you just take him to task for cursing? He needs to hand over a hundred dollars to a swear jar?”
“Keats is determined not to swear around his niece, so every time he curses, he’s penalized a hundred dollars. The money is donated to charity once a month,” Maren explains without looking at me.
“Really?” Earl’s eyes narrow. “I admit I had you wrong, Keats. I’m proof that the love of a good woman can change a man for the better. It looks like you are proof of that too.”
This is another chance for me to stop this shitshow in its path, but I don’t. I watch Maren’s shoulders as they tense.
“Why don’t we stop by your office tomorrow and meet your team?” Earl loosens his tie again. “I can make time later in the day. Are you free at around four?”
“I’m free.” I nod.
Earl’s gaze wanders to the left. “It looks like dinner is about to be served. I’m glad we had this opportunity to talk, Maren. Is there any chance you’ll be visiting Keats at his office tomorrow? I’d love for my wife to meet you.”
With a fleeting glance over her shoulder, Maren sends me a silent message with a perk of her brow. She’s asking what the hell should she say.
I step in to handle it, even though I have no fucking clue how this got out of control so fast. “Maren and I work together.”
Earl leans back