by Anna Sugden
“Scott,” she moaned softly with frustration.
“I’m taking a flier here and assuming you won’t object to this.” His mouth covered hers and the teasing stopped.
Her lips parted, turning the kiss fiery almost instantly. Her arms wound around his neck.
He crushed her against him, one hand anchoring her head.
Their tongues tangled, making the kiss burn hotter and brighter, until they broke apart, gasping for air. She dropped her cheek to his shoulder, trying to calm her heart rate. His chin rested on top of her head and they stood for several minutes, wrapped in each other’s arms, chests heaving in unison.
Stunned by how quickly their kiss had threatened to spiral out of control, she knew it was time to stop. Reluctantly, she pulled out of his embrace. Unsure what to do with her arms, she crossed them over her stomach.
“It’s probably not a good idea to take this any further tonight.” Then, concerned that sounded cold, she added, “Not because I don’t want to. It’s just that...” Her voice trailed off as his finger pressed to her lips.
“I know. I agree.”
“It’s only a few more days, and then we are free to explore this any way we like and...” She puffed out a frustrated sigh. “What is it about you that makes me babble like a loon?”
He smiled. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve talked more to you than anyone else, ever.”
Gratified, Sapphie stored that tidbit away.
They strolled to the restaurant, hand in hand. How was it that the walk out had taken almost half an hour, but the return seemed to take only a few minutes?
A yellow cab was discharging its passengers when they got to Grey’s. The driver agreed to take Sapphie, as she was on his route into the city.
She got into the taxi. “I’ll see you in the office tomorrow.”
“Look forward to it.” He pressed a quick, hard kiss to her lips, then stepped back and closed the door. Once again he watched until the cab turned the corner.
As it turned out, they didn’t see much of each other over the next couple days. The pressure to finish the presentations before Marty arrived meant they were tied up in meetings with their respective teams.
But Scotty surprised her by texting. Short messages—some cute, some funny, some simply saying hi—to let her know he was thinking of her. She looked forward to those messages more than she wanted to admit. Each one warmed her heart and made her eager to finish this contract.
There were hints in the messages that they might get together on the weekend, but nothing was said outright. Anticipation built, until she knew that whatever happened on Friday, she wanted to be with Scotty on Saturday.
On Friday morning, she dressed carefully. This was an important day for professional and personal reasons, so she wanted to be at her best. She picked out a bright floral shift dress with a matching short-sleeved jacket and her lucky Louboutins. She slipped her favorite lipstick into her purse and headed for the Ice Cats’ head office with a spring in her step.
Marty was already there when she arrived, having flown in late the previous night. Over coffee, they caught up on a couple of their other projects, which were running smoothly, then headed to the boardroom.
Her pulse skipped when she saw Scotty inside, talking to Callum. The look they exchanged was full of promise for later. Damn the man! He’d turned smoldering into an art form. From the half smile curving his lips, he knew it, too. Who knew Scotty had such a playful side? She deliberately moistened her lips, letting him know that two could play that game, and enjoyed seeing his pupils flare.
Marty called the meeting to order, and all too soon, it was her turn to speak.
She was surprised that, like the last time she stood before this group, she was uncharacteristically nervous. Unlike before, though, Scotty’s eyes weren’t accusatory.
This would be a piece of cake. They’d make their presentations, agree about the actions and move on to the next step. She couldn’t wait.
Smiling at her audience, Sapphie pulled up her first slide.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS.”
Thanks to one of those fateful split seconds of silence, Scott’s muttered words boomed across the boardroom.
Ah, hell. He’d tried to keep his growing dismay under wraps as Sapphie’s group went through their presentations. He’d reminded himself that their proposals were only recommendations and that he and Callum had yet to put forward their perspective. But when the cocky kid in the trendy suit had said what had been successful for Antonelli’s basketball team would work for the hockey franchise, Scott had started to lose it.
Beside him, Callum shifted in his seat. Scott glanced at his boss and was relieved to see he was fighting a smile.
“Is there a problem, Scotty?” Cocky Kid curled his lip.
Scott had faced decades of chirping from better opponents without blinking, yet something about the puffed-up jackass got to him. Using the cool, reprimanding tone that had terrified many a rookie, he said, “It’s Scott, unless you’re a teammate. And yes, there’s a problem. But I’ll wait until a more appropriate time to air my concerns.” He turned to Marty. “My apologies for the interruption.”
The owner waved off his apology. “Passion is always welcome. I’ll be interested to hear what you have to say.”
Scott nodded and turned his attention to the dickwad presenting. “Please carry on.”
Callum murmured, “One–zip to the Ice Cats.”
As Cocky Kid began speaking again, Scott noticed Sapphie’s frown. She’d obviously figured out, as he had, that the two groups were fundamentally at odds. And it could only get worse.
That he and Sapphie would be on opposite sides of a professional argument, just as things were finally beginning to improve for them personally, bothered him more than it should. It wasn’t that he was worried about upsetting her, but he didn’t want business to come between them outside the boardroom. Especially after that kiss at Grey’s.
Even so, he wouldn’t let anything damage his team. Unfortunately, if it came to pissing off the beautiful woman opposite him or protecting the Cats, there would be only one winner.
Celine’s voice echoed in his head. “You’ve never cheated on me with another woman, but those damn Ice Cats are a demanding mistress.”
As far as his marriage was concerned, it was probably true. His commitment to the Cats had become an easy excuse to avoid the tension at home once he and Celine had drifted apart, though he’d tried to be there for his kids whenever possible.
Pushing the memories aside, Scott focused on the meeting. Thankfully, Cocky Kid was winding up. Once he was done, Marty suggested they break for lunch.
As people stood, stretched and took advantage of the break, Scott noticed the room split into factions. Antonelli’s people gathered around Sapphie, while the Cats’ staff stood near the credenza, where lunch was being laid out. There were no overt signs of animosity, but the urgent conversations in both groups didn’t look friendly.
“What makes you think we’ll get a hostile reception when we speak?” Callum didn’t sound fazed by the prospect.
“Yeah. Somehow I prefer the hostile reception I used to get on the ice. Battling with words isn’t my strong suit.”
“You can handle those people.” Callum loaded his plate with sandwiches. “You did right. You made it clear that we won’t be bullied into accepting things we don’t agree with.”
“As long as I haven’t made things more difficult.”
“It was never going to be easy. New ownership always wants to get a bunch of quick wins. Their people want to prove they’re better than the old guard. Of course, usually, they’re taking on a losing franchise, so there’s plenty of room for improvement. Antonelli’s guys can’t complain about the product on the ice,
so they have to focus on front-office issues—the biggest being the fact that the franchise isn’t making enough money.”
Walking over to the windows, they started eating.
“At least Marty seems prepared to listen to us before making any decisions,” Callum said. “We’ve prepared as best we can. If he overrules our recommendations, we won’t give up. We’ll try to score on the rebound.”
Scott nodded. “For sure.”
As people from both factions joined them, they deliberately turned the conversation to more neutral topics—like which of the prospects at training camp would make the big team during the season. The debate grew lively with everyone making their predictions, yet it remained good-natured.
Although Sapphie took part in the discussion, Scott noticed that she avoided meeting his gaze. He tried not to take it personally, equating it to a pregame warm-up—when players avoided contact with longtime friends on the opposing team. Still, he didn’t like it. She was skittish enough; he didn’t need anything knocking them off balance now.
After tonight he and Sapphie would start a fresh phase—they’d effectively be dating—one he’d been optimistic about. He figured the no-commitment thing was only a temporary hurdle he planned to do his best to encourage her over. Starting with the coming weekend.
Anticipation had been growing as he’d thought of how they could spend the two days before Sapphie had to leave for Chicago. Casual, fun things—a walk along the High Line in the city, a ride on the Staten Island Ferry, maybe a trip to the shore. And yeah, things that might entice her to visit the East Coast more often.
Now he wondered whether he’d been foolishly overconfident. Was he kidding himself that he had a chance with her?
By the time Marty returned and everyone retook their seats around the table, there were indications of a thaw between the two sides. Scott took it as a positive sign, though he was fully aware that it wouldn’t last long once he began to speak.
Sapphie was the last to sit. Her body language was deceptively laid-back. Only someone looking closely would notice the glint in her blue eyes. Scott recognized a game face when he saw one.
Callum took the first shift, outlining the strengths and weaknesses of the organization as his management group saw them. Since many of them had already been highlighted by the other team, there wasn’t much argument.
The air was definitely less tense by the time Scott strode to the head of the table and revealed the proposals he and Callum had developed. He spoke slowly, clearly, ensuring he made eye contact with those on both sides. He didn’t attempt to engage Sapphie.
Within a couple of slides, the atmosphere had changed. It was clear that the two groups were coming at the key issues from different angles. Both had profitability at their core, but while Sapphie’s team looked to streamline and cut, at least in the short term, Callum’s looked to expand and develop.
All pretense of being laid-back now gone, Sapphie leaned forward, making copious notes. She said nothing, but it was only a matter of time. Part of him wished she’d challenge him. He’d always preferred a direct attack, relying on his wits and gut instinct to survive and win.
Wondering what would come made Scott edgy. He wrapped up with his final slide, then returned to his seat and awaited the onslaught of questions.
Before that could happen, Marty spoke. “Well now, that’s very interesting.”
He thanked both groups for their proposals. “Usually when I acquire a business, the issues and solutions are pretty clear. More often than not, the existing management is either unaware of the problems or unwilling to acknowledge them, let alone able to provide a comprehensive program of change designed to address them.”
He tapped his forehead with two fingers. “I salute you and your team, Callum. It’s not often I’m surprised or impressed, but you have done both. You clearly understand what’s wrong and have strong opinions about how to fix the problems, without forgetting the all-important bottom line.”
Looking round the room, it appeared Marty had taken the wind out of some of his own group’s sails with his comments. Cocky Kid didn’t look so arrogant now. But Scott knew success wouldn’t be that easy.
Sure enough, Marty’s next words threw down the gauntlet. “The floor is open for comments and discussion. I’ll remind those of you new to my way of doing things that all criticism should be constructive.”
There was a murmur of agreement around the table. Morgan volunteered to make notes about the decisions and actions on the whiteboards.
Callum started the discussion by supporting one of Sapphie’s suggestions regarding travel expenditure. “There are definitely economies that could be made by negotiating for both your basketball team and the Ice Cats. Given deals achieved by Making Your Move over the past couple of years, I suggest we give them that project.”
“Excellent choice.” Sapphie smiled. “Because of their connection to this organization, I’ve researched them extensively.” It was commonly known that the key partners, Tracy and Maggie, were married to Ice Cats players. “They give outstanding service to all their clients. Even our rivals have nothing but praise for them.”
Sapphie then supported their recommendation regarding donation of goods and services rather than money for charities and projects in the local community.
“Excellent.” Marty rubbed his hands together. “Note it on the board, Morgan.”
After the polite opening gambits, both sides moved on to areas where, with minor tweaks, there could be agreement. Once the less contentious points were covered off, they began to tackle more complex issues. The debates grew more heated and compromises were harder fought, but eventually the majority of the operational proposals were approved in principle.
Things came to a head with the sales, marketing and sponsorship recommendations.
“There was no cohesion in the promotions run over the previous few seasons,” Sapphie said. “They didn’t follow a theme or purpose. Sponsorship of the promotions was ad hoc. Deals and giveaways should benefit not only the team but also the sponsor. It will encourage repeat support and hopefully increase revenue.”
Scott responded, “That’s why the marketing program we want to implement this season and going forward is multilayered and ties into promotions we run in the team shops, on the website, through social media and in the community.” He outlined some examples.
Sapphie countered with the same marketing plan as apparently worked for Antonelli’s basketball team, citing numbers to support its success.
Scott chose his words carefully. “What works in one sport doesn’t necessarily translate to others. Big promotions that benefit a small number of people don’t appeal as much to our fans as those that benefit a lot. Give a row a pizza or toss out a bunch of T-shirts every game and they’ll be far happier than if they got the chance to win a holiday.”
Sapphie’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Naturally, we want to promote goodwill within the arena, but we need to look beyond that to encourage the casual fan. And be more responsive to market dynamics.”
From her position by the whiteboard, Morgan joined the debate, supporting Scott’s position. Cocky Kid jumped in to back Sapphie. Tones grew more strained and the language less diplomatic as the two sides lined up against each other.
Scott defended his proposal. “One of the issues we had under the previous ownership was that decisions were dictated by nonbusiness factors, like the state of personal finances. Or what their wives thought was a good idea.”
“I hardly think we’re talking about such whimsical tactics,” Sapphie retorted.
Scott noticed that everyone was watching their disagreement with the avid interest of spectators at a play-off game. Though he and Sapphie remained in their seats, it felt like they were fighting toe-to-toe. Neither gave an inch, until Marty stepped in.
“Let’s t
able this discussion.”
Sapphie’s gaze clashed with Scott’s. He couldn’t miss her irritation and frustration. He didn’t flinch. Too bad. He wouldn’t roll over to make her happy. If they had to be on opposite sides to prevent plans that he felt were wrong from being implemented, so be it.
Regardless, he didn’t like being at odds with her. He’d never liked conflict in his personal life. Perhaps that was why he’d gone to such great lengths to avoid it with Celine. Heading out for an extra session at the gym was easier than arguing with his wife.
He was glad this meeting would be over soon. Only a couple more issues to resolve. Then he had to get through the rest of the afternoon without saying something inflammatory and they’d be safe.
Easier said than freaking done.
Callum fought their corner effectively and aggressively. Sapphie also took more of a backseat, speaking only to clarify or emphasize a point. The sun set, the boardroom lights were switched on and still the two sides battled. One thing they agreed on—no one wanted the meeting to stretch into a second day.
Finally, only one point remained—supplier invoicing.
Scott was starting to breathe easier, figuring they were in the last minute of play, when Cocky Kid spoke up.
Callum and Scott exchanged a look—much as they wanted to let it ride, they couldn’t.
Knowing he was about to blow his best intentions out of the water, Scott took a deep breath and said, “We can’t agree to a strategy that will strip away the goodwill this organization has built over decades with the people who do work for us.”
Sapphie arched an eyebrow. “How does making sure the business is fiscally tight do that? Suppliers get fair pay for good work and they get paid in a timely fashion. They are granted exclusive status that is renewed through a proper pitch system, not based on who’s best buddies with the owner. The organization gets proper quotes and pays competitive rates to the best suppliers. In addition, all work costs are transparent, enabling sound budgeting and financial control. Surely, that’s a win-win?”