Duke was nice, a brutish man at time, but he was in love with the sport, and that passion showed every single time he stepped on the field. She’d admired his spark from the start. Not to mention a few other things on the man that yearned for a bit more than admiring.
A slow heat crept across Danielle’s face as she gathered up the stacks of contracts. Sorting through the mess of them, she found the newly signed contract for Avery Johnson. He was a favorite of hers, fresh out of college, with a kick that was sure to win games. He’d been a hard recruit, with six other agents all doing battle for him. Danielle smiled to herself.
When she’d first joined the agency, it had been to a host of protest and anger. What did a woman know about football? How was she going to help them find and sign good players. Danielle had stomped out the doubt in two months time when she made the biggest trade in the agency's history.
That stunt had shut up most of the outward protests, but Danielle could still tell that some people didn’t always take her seriously. It was a fact that she had to live with, and one that stalled her plans for marital and motherly bliss. The love and joy she got from her job wasn’t enough. Sure, at one point in her life, the pure rush she got from sealing a contract had been strong enough to keep her running for days. Now, whenever she went home to her empty house, Danielle could tell that something was missing.
“Your nine thirty is here.” Jordan, her twenty-three year old assistant poked his head into the office door. “Can I send her in, or do you need a moment?”
“Nope, that fine,” Danielle said as she put the stacks of papers neatly away in folders. “While you’re in here, I need these faxed over to Sports Daily, they wanted a quote from me.” Jordan came into the office. He was dressed casually, but impeccably in a button down shirt, over which he wore a blazer. His khaki’s were perfectly creased, laying perfectly over the pair of expensive tennis shoes on his feet. Danielle eyed them, “Are those the new pair from AirTech?”
“Yes, thanks again for getting these for me,” the man smiled brightly at his boss. “They are awesome.” He took up the files and was gone a moment later.
Danielle smiled when a statuesque woman all but sauntered into her office. She was wearing head to toe white, the only color coming from her bright green Birkin bag.
“Hey little sis,” the woman said as she moved into a seat, flashing a smile that was whiter than her outfit. “I’m so happy we have these little chats every week.” She sighed exaggeratedly, “I have been in hell the last few days, let me tell you.”
“What happened, Yvie?” Danielle threw a wary eye at the clock, “I have a lunch date, so if this is going to be a three hour story, we will need to cut it a little short.
Yvie Sawyer-Reddings wasn’t the most attentive big sister. She’d been spoiled ruthlessly by their parents, and even more spoiled from a string of rich boyfriends. Her first marriage at the age of 21 had left her with a sizable divorce settlement, and the second was currently giving her access to a 12-figure bank account. Any problems she had were superficial at best: The type that made Danielle want to roll her eyes into the back of her head.
“You won’t believe this,” Yvie began, “Gregory bought an island for our anniversary, and when I went to see the property the place was a total mess.” She flipped a lock of chocolate brown hair over her shoulder, eyes narrowing into a look of mock terror. “The staff was useless, apparently they’d gotten used to working for this blaise lesbian couple. They were wearing Hawaiian shirts.” The last bit was hissed in a fearful whisper. “Imagine if anyone saw them, I’d be a laughing stock, and poor Greg didn’t know what to do…”
“Wait, he bought you an island?” Danielle’s eyes widened in shock. “He bought you an island and you’re complaining about the staff?”
“I’m sorry,” Yvie smiled proudly. “Not my fault I have a generous husband.”
“Yeah, because you bagged the first billionaire that came your way.”
“It’s not a bad life, sweetie. You should try it.” She leaned forward, elbows on Danielle’s desk. “Anyway, long story short, I’ve decided to have a baby.”
“What?”
“A baby. A little baby for Gregory.”
Thankfully, her sister's presence always had a sobering effect on Danielle. Hangover abated for the moment, Danielle gaped at Yvie from across the desk. “How did buying an island make you want to become a mother. Yvette, you hate children. You killed a cactus, do you really think you can handle a child?”
Yvette’s face fell into a mask of disappointment. “Getting the island in shape made me realize that I need an outlet for my legacy. I want to nurture something, I want to care for something and raise it.”
A sip of her chilled coffee did nothing to squelch the headache Danielle could feel seeping in. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see her sister’s face. “A baby…You do know you have to get pregnant to have a baby. Thought you didn’t want to ruin your body.”
“Oh,” She waved a dismissive hand. “We already got a surrogate on board. Getting the first procedure done in a few weeks. A nice girl too, we are thinking of hiring her on as a nanny when the whole thing is done.”
Danielle’s mouth dropped open, “Isn’t that a little cruel?”
“Nothing's cruel when the pay is $400,000 a year. Besides she’s already pregnant...”
“What?” Danielle stared at her sister, her eyes nearly the size of dinner plates. “How long has it been? I just saw you last week.”
“Well I didn’t want to say anything until after the first trimester. That's what my OB recommended so we could make sure that it took.”
“Holy shit, Yvie…” Her hands were clenched on the desktop. Partially in shock, and partially in jealousy. This was her dream, what she wanted. And here Yvie was, thinking about it like she did everything else. “This is surprising. So sudden.” Blindly she reached out to find her glass of water. Gulping it down, the cold cleared her head just a bit.
“She’s fine with it. We talked, had an attorney, we actually interviewed her for a while.” A smug smile graced her face, “See, I can keep a secret when I want to.”
“True as that may be,” Danielle said, voice tense. “Don’t you think there may be a bit of a conflict of interest. I mean, the woman that carries your child is going to take care of it…” Yvette was too busy tapping away at her phone screen to have heard anything that Danielle had said. A bright smile lit up her face as she stared with rapt interest into the screen. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
Yvette hardly spared a glance upward, “Yeah, yeah. Interest, conflict, whatever.” Finally, she threw the phone back into the Birkin. “I’ve got a rather solid contract being drawn up. And a doctor that’s assured me that the baby will be mine and Greg’s biologically.” She shrugged her shoulders. “If she tries anything I’ll take her for everything she has and buy the baby a nice solid gold something from Shari’s.”
“Okay…” Danielley said slowly, throwing a quick glance at the clock. “So, a baby,” Her heart jumped a little at the word. Her worries from earlier coming back into the full forefront of her mind. “Lots of responsibility there. You know how babies can ruin an expensive bag.” She threw a knowing glance at the Birkin. “Remember how upset you were about the Gaultier?”
“Little dogs need a lot of work, but I can hire a great nanny for the baby.”
“You could have hired a sitter for the dog,” Danielle had meant to be gentle. She’d always tried to be supportive of whatever her sister set her mind to doing. Even the time when Yvette had started her own fashion line. Though it had flopped, Danielle still owned four pairs of way overpriced jeans. “This is a human life. A baby. You can’t sell it, or anything like that. It’s going to be part of you.”
The look on Yvette’s face was one that Danielle had seen many times. It was the same look she gave her hairstylist whenever she talked too much. Her eyes were wide, stare blank, and the upward tilt
to her lips was all but cursory.
“I know, Dani,” She said gently patting her younger sister's’ hand. “I’m taking birthing classes, and Greg’s gotten me tons of books.” Even Danielle had to gape at sincerity in her eyes. “Can’t you be happy for me?”
Danielle shook her head, pulling her lips up into a smile that she hoped looked happy. “I am. It’s just such a surprise.” She scraped her chair backwards to stand and embrace her sister. Yvette smelled like Dior and lemons, a signature body butter that she would get imported from Italy. “You’ll be a great mother. And mom will be so happy to get some grandkids running around.”
“Now all we have to do is get you married off and they’ll be over the moon.”
The comment was meant to be reassuring, but the words made Danielle grow cold. Removing herself from her sisters grasps, she went back to her desk, making herself look busy behind the sleek computer.
“So, I’ll see you next week?” Yvette hitched the Birkin higher up on her shoulder. “We can do sushi or something.”
“That must be the best part of getting a surrogate, huh? You can still eat however you want.”
“Oh, don’t think that having my daily cosmo wasn’t one of the major reasons I chose to get a surrogate.”
Once Yvette was gone, Danielle took a compact mirror from one of the drawers. Her eye makeup had a small smudge in the corner, and her lipstick was fading around the edges. She could almost hear the clock ticking down the minutes until Duke came and knocked on her door; looking handsome and smiling at her in that way he always did.
She fixed her face, even taking an extra second to adjust her bra. Her mother had always said that sagging boobs made a woman look at least two years older. When the girls were appropriately perky, Danielle sat back in her chair, fingers at her temples. Yvette always came to her going on and on about some scheme or another. They never really had normal conversations, it was always about who she was marrying, or who she was dating, or the extravagant presents she was getting. It was like the cosmos were punishing Danielle for being good at her job.
It was easy to figure out that men were intimidated by her. Any dates she went on were quickly ruined when Danielle spoke about her job. Though she tried her best to downplay, it was hard to do when her most valuable client was a household name. That fact made guys a little antsy. She made way more money than most of the men she dated, and the ones that could compare all seemed to want a flouncy, stay at home, trophy wife.
Danielle wasn’t anyone's trophy.
A knock at her door sent a rush of heat to her cheeks. Duke sauntered into her office, his hulking form making the large space seem tiny.
“Ready to eat?” He asked, brow raising as he took in her stressed face. “Did you have a tough meeting this morning.”
“Something like that,” Danielle grabbed her purse from under her desk as she got to her feet. “My sister is having a baby.”
“Congratulations?” Danielle shook her head quickly.
“Yvie’s not the mom type. She’s the kind of woman that wants a baby because all the other billionaire wives are having one.” Danielle shook her head lightly. “But it might be good for her. At least the economy will get a little nudge from all her shopping.”
Duke nodded, “Was she the woman in the white getup? Yeah, she asked your assistant to ‘fetch’ her a sparkling water when she got here. Jordan did not look to watch her clean that handbag with it.”
Danielle laughed brightly. “Oh, yeah. She has a collection of Birkins. Never cleans them with tap water. Only bottled.” She waved a dismissive hand at him, “Anyway, where do you want to go for lunch?”
“I was going to ask you the exact same question, oddly enough.”
Oh, damn. She hadn’t had time to pick a restaurant or anything like that. Her usual lunch of a chicken caesar from the hotel down the street seemed out of place. Plastering a smile on her face, she looked up at him, trying to ignore that itching feeling in her feet she got whenever something wasn’t going the way she wanted.
“We can go wherever. There's a new place on main that got excellent reviews. I can have Jordan call and reserve us a table.”
Duke gave her another smile: the one all the tabloid magazine raved about. Danielle had to tell herself to focus as they walked out into the main office area. This was nothing, just lunch, nothing to go crazy over. Once Jordan had called over to the restaurant, the pair headed into the elevator.
“So,” Duke began, “You feeling any better? This morning you looked a little bit wrung out.”
“Well, we all can’t be 26, now can we?” She groaned, “I’d forgotten about my hangover, and I’d like to keep it that way. Thinking about my sister as a mother is bad enough.”
“Are you the oldest?”
“Nope, she is, by two years. Our mother is going to be thrilled.” They stepped into the lobby moments later. Greeted by the usual sight of a horde of photographers that tried to sneak into the agency on a daily basis. Danielle was more than used to the camera’s, she strode past them even as Duke paused for a few photo ops.
“Ms. Bilson! Ms. Bilson over here!”
“Duke, are you and Danielle Bilson an item?”
“Is it true you’re being traded to the Diamondbacks?”
“Are you really dumping Sandra Kelly. Duke! Duke!”
Danielle rolled her eyes at the press: Every other week there was a rumor going around about which of her client's she was dating. Not that any of those claims held any merit. The press would say absolutely anything for a story, a fact that annoyed Danielle to no end. She’d taken to making a few friends at tabloids and newspapers, just so she could get an inside scoop on what was going to be printed about her. It helped a lot, actually: it was a wonder what a reporter wouldn’t say for exclusive access to pre-game interviews.
“Ever get tired of that?” She asked once Duke had torn himself away from a line of adoring fans. “I know I would.”
“Could be worse. It’s only this bad because of the game next week. I hear real celebrities get zero privacy. At least no one has tried to follow me home...yet.”
“Well, let's keep the groupies to a minimum, okay? We need you focused for gameday. Three more wins and you’re going to your second Super Bowl. I want another raise.”
“I do aim to please, Bilson.”
“Aim to win, Duke.” Danielle pressed her sunglasses onto her as bright light seeped into her eyes. “It’s up this way. Do you mind walking?”
“Nah, my car would attract way too much attention. “
“What about your boys?” She asked nodded to the two men that were straggling behind them. “Can’t they protect you?”
Duke sighed, “They are only there to keep me out of trouble. Wasn’t it you that negotiated them into my contract?”
“Hmm, you’re right.” She said, “You’re a kid, I require all my clients to have bodyguards. Mostly to make sure you don’t do anything stupid that costs you game time.”
“You’re not that much older than me, Bilson.”
“Physically,” she agreed, “Sure, but mentally...I’m thinking most of you players are a bit...young in that aspect.”
They crossed a busy intersection just as the light turned, and when they got to the other side of the street, Duke gently pulled Danielle to the inside of the sidewalk.
“What was that for? Was I about to step in something?” She asked, looking down at her Prada heels in fear.
“No, mom always said to never let a lady walk on the dangerous side of the street. I’m just showing you how mature I can be.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope.”
“See, mentally you’re about 15.”
He scoffed, “15 and a half, thank you very much.”
Chapter 2
The Beer Garden was fine dining mixed with casual taste. It wasn’t pretension, there wasn’t a single white tablecloth
in sight, yet, it still had the air of a restaurant with five stars. Their waitress sat them almost the same second that they walked in. Jordan was so good, he’d even gotten the guards their own booth a few steps away from Danielle and Duke’s table.
“Here are your menus.” The tall, willowy woman said, “ And can I get you two anything to drink? We have a very large selection of craft beers, and an extensive wine list.” She pointed to two other papers on their table.
“I’ll have a stout,” Duke said. “Whatever you recommend.”
“Can I get a water, with lemon, please.” Danielle said putting her menu down
the table. “No alcohol after last night. My head was just starting to feel better. I don’t know how you do it.” She watched as he munched happily from a basket of warm pretzels the waitress had provided. Duke loved food, so much that he’d been on numerous celebrity cooking shows as both judge and contestant.
“I am a tiny bit bigger than you. I can hold my liquor like a pro.”
“Please remind me of that the next time you ask me to do shots.”
“Now why would I do that, Bilson? Seeing you relax was the highlight of my year.” He put a hand to his chest, feigning awe, “I never knew you had such a beautiful voice.”
Danielle tried her best to hide a cringe, “You never will again,” she said sternly. “Tequila is officially off my list of approved beverages.” Duke laughed at that, a boisterous sound that seemed to come from all around him.
“Why am I not surprised that you have a fucking list?” The waitress came back with their drinks, taking their orders while simultaneously throwing flirtatious little giggles at Duke.
“Are you sure I can’t get you anything else?” She asked him, a hand on his shoulder. Duke was loving the attention, though. Danielle could tell by the way he flirted right back with her. He always loved being the center of attention, especially when that attention came from pretty girls.
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