by Carsen Taite
“Is Trevor here for the game?” Carly asked.
“No. He discussed it with the coach and they decided that even though he isn’t technically suspended right now, his presence would be a distraction. They want the press to focus on the game and not spend their time shouting questions about the case. Although after the way they played last week, they might welcome a distraction.” She looked for a sign of agreement on Carly’s face, but all she got was a blank stare. “You really don’t follow football, do you?”
“It’s not just football,” Carly replied. “I like to think I’m equal opportunity when it comes to not giving a rat’s ass about professional sports.”
“Do you hate the Olympics too? Because if you do, I may not be able to hang out with you.”
Carly smiled. “No, I’m not a heathen. The Olympics are way more commercial than they used to be, but they still have that ‘root for the home team vibe’ about them.” She pointed at the stadium. “We’re going to watch the Dallas Cowboys, but we had to drive from Dallas to a completely different county, not to mention city, to get to the stadium. Not a lot of home team feel about it.”
Landon grinned. “That’s because they’re America’s team, baby.” She looked up in time to see the driver nodding at her words, and she pointed. “See!”
“You’re hopeless,” Carly said.
“I may be, but it’s time to roll.” Landon tipped the driver and held the door for Carly. As they walked up to the gate, Landon suppressed an instinct to grab Carly’s hand, but her earlier thoughts echoed. They were here on business, and this wasn’t a date. But that was no reason they couldn’t have fun. “Last one to the gate is a rotten lawyer.” She didn’t wait for a reply, instead dodging around the family walking in front of them and charging toward the entrance. When she reached her destination and turned around, Carly was standing a few feet away, but she slowed in her tracks and a wall of seriousness fell over her expression. “What?”
Carly didn’t speak, but Landon followed her eyes and zeroed in on Shelby Cross standing just inside the ticket gate staring at them with a sour face. “Oh.”
It wasn’t that Landon didn’t like Shelby. She seemed nice and capable and like she had Trevor’s best interests at heart, but she’d wanted this day to be her and Carly, discussing strategy without the client or the client’s stand-in watching over their shoulders.
“Did you know she was going to be here?” Carly asked with an accusing tone.
Landon raised her hands. “Not even, but I guess it makes sense since Trevor was the one who arranged for our tickets that he’d send Shelby to be our host when he decided not to come. Maybe she won’t stay after she gets us settled.”
“Have you seen the way she looks at you?” Carly shook her head. “She’ll stay.”
Landon’s reply was cut off when Shelby strode up. “Hey, you two. I’ve got your tickets. Trevor asked me to meet you and make sure you got the VIP treatment. Are you ready?”
Landon faked a smile. Trevor was the client, and Shelby was his agent; both facts were a solid reminder that she was here to work, not make eyes at her competitor. Maybe Shelby joining them was a good thing. Who knew what information they might be able to get from her under the guise of casual conversation? With a quick reassuring look at Carly, she said, “We’re ready. Lead the way.”
When they reached the elevator to the suite level, Landon hesitated. “Where are we headed?”
“The Zion suite,” Shelby answered. “They always save seats for Trevor’s guests.”
Landon started to say she thought they’d just get some random seats in the stadium, not the cush digs of the executive suites, but the words sounded silly when she played them in her mind. Of course Trevor would have access to luxury seating. He’d been the brand spokesman for Zion Athletics for a while, and Zion probably had a luxury suite in every stadium in the country where Trevor’s guests could enjoy catered food and an open bar during the game. Not exactly the experience she’d planned to show Carly when she’d had this brainchild. “Hey, do you mind if we make a quick stop before we head upstairs?”
Before Shelby could answer, she motioned for Carly to follow her and walked toward the concourse. She hadn’t been to a game here in years, but she’d scoped the layout online and had a mental map of exactly where she wanted to go.
“Where’s the fire?” Carly said as she caught up and matched her long strides.
“Are you hungry? I’m starving.”
“Sure, but is there a reason you’re leaving the client in the dust?”
“Shelby’s not the client.” Landon looked back and tossed Shelby a fake smile and a friendly wave. “The food in the suites will be good, I’m sure, but it’s going to be faux football food. In order to have the true experience, you need food that isn’t sitting in fancy silver chafing dishes, warmed-over and soggy. Trust me on this.”
“I do.”
Carly delivered the simple statement with exaggerated seriousness, and they both burst out laughing. They were still laughing when Landon located her destination. “May I order for you?”
“Sure, why not?”
Landon looked back at Shelby and motioned to ask if she wanted anything, but Shelby shook her head, the puzzled look on her face signaling she thought Landon had lost her mind. Maybe she had. Before she could give it any further thought, she stepped up to the counter and asked for a large order of pulled pork nachos and two large draft beers. She forked over way too much money for the overpriced food and handed one of the beers to Carly.
“I guess I should’ve mentioned I’m not much of a beer drinker,” Carly said.
“Let me guess. You tried it in college and hated it. I bet it was at some frat party where the brothers were tapping the keg themselves.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe, my ass. I’m right and I know it. I also know the beer you have in your hand is nothing like the beer of your college days.”
“Care to bet a partnership on it?”
“You’re hilarious.” Landon grabbed the nachos and her own beer, and they walked back to Shelby. “Thanks for indulging me. I’ve been craving these nachos ever since we decided to come to the game, and I’ve found that if I don’t indulge my cravings, bad things happen.”
“I see.”
The lilt in Shelby’s voice was subtle, but Landon instantly regretted her careless words. A quick look at Carly yielded no hint of what was going through her mind in response to the exchange, but she figured it was best to change the subject. “Shall we head upstairs?”
They followed Shelby to the Zion suite, where an attendant offered to fetch them a drink. Landon held up her beer by way of answering. Carly took a sip of her own beer and smiled. “Hey, this is pretty good.” She looked at the attendant. “I’ll stick with this, thanks.”
“Try not to sound so surprised,” Landon whispered as the attendant indicated where they should sit. “Prepare to be blown away by these nachos.”
Carly’s expression was dubious. “I hate to tell you this, counselor, but your nachos are looking a little wimpy.”
Landon took a look at the basket in her hand and had to agree. The chips, weighted down with extra cheese and pork, had started to sag and the result was a gooey mess. She grasped a chip and pulled, but it tore under the weight of all the ingredients. Not at all the hearty meal she remembered from her last visit. “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had these. The memory isn’t holding up to reality today.”
Carly smiled and pointed to the back wall of the suite. “Guess we’ll wind up exploring those chafing dishes after all.”
Shelby pointed to the buffet. “You girls help yourselves. I have to make a call, but I’ll be back soon.”
Landon and Carly filled their plates with appetizers and settled in. The suite was large enough to hold at least twenty people, but they were the only two guests so far.
“When are you going to start schooling me on the game?” Carly asked.
�
�I was going to let you get fortified first, but if you’re ready, so am I.”
Carly sipped her beer and pointed to the large screen TV that hung over the twenty-yard line. “I thought the whole point was to watch the game live. What’s with the TV?”
“It’s in the top five largest hi-def televisions for a sports stadium in the world.” Landon pointed at the upper rows of seating across the way. “It’s so the folks in the cheap seats, and I mean that in the most relative sense, can see what’s happening on the field.” She took a long pull from her beer and studied Carly’s face, which was scrunched in a frown. “Right now, you’re thinking what’s the point of paying big money for a ticket, fighting traffic to drive to the stadium, and standing in line for nachos if you’re going to watch the game on TV?”
Carly grinned. “Hey, mind reader, with skills like that, you’re going to be stiff competition for sure.”
Landon returned the grin and pointed to the field. “Game’s about to start. They’re doing the coin toss now.” She motioned to Carly to join her at the rail and spent the next few minutes pointing out various aspects of the game.
“I guess there is something to being here live. On TV you only see what they want you to see,” Carly said.
“Exactly. And while they’re at commercial, we get to see even more.” Landon leaned in close and pointed downfield. “Look—it’s the full contingent of Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders.” Carly turned to look in the direction she was pointing, and the move placed her snug in Landon’s arms. Landon breathed deep, enjoying the light scent of lavender and the warm edge of Carly’s closeness, but mostly she enjoyed that Carly didn’t push away or act weird about their proximity.
Seconds later, the spell broke when the door to the suite opened, and Landon heard Shelby’s voice call out, “We have some more guests.”
Damn. Irrational as it was, Landon had hoped she’d have the afternoon alone with Carly. She told herself her hope had to do with discussing the case, but as she stood with Carly in her grasp, she didn’t give a damn about anything to do with football or the court case. Not good. Not good at all. Summoning reserves of willpower, she turned to greet Shelby and whoever else was going to share the suite for the rest of the afternoon.
One of the men with Shelby handed his coat to the attendant and turned to face them. And that’s when the day went completely to hell.
“Landon?” the man said, his voice laced with more displeasure than surprise.
Her first instinct was to head for the exit, but that was a childish response. One she’d employed many times before, but today was different. Today she was working. Today Carly was with her. Today, if she ran, she would look foolish to someone other than the man standing in front of her.
“Hello, Dad.” She managed an overtly friendly tone with only an undercurrent of annoyance. He hated being called Dad. Too casual. Too familiar. Which was silly since there had never been any danger of them becoming too familiar.
Shelby introduced the other man, Robert Zion, founder of Zion Athletics. Robert looked off-kilter at the exchange between Landon and her father. He cleared his throat as if that would cut the tension hanging in the air. “I was going to introduce you all to my business associate George Holt, but it looks like you know one another already.”
Landon piped up before anyone else could respond. She stuck her hand out to Robert, after all, he hadn’t done anything to her yet. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Landon Holt, George’s daughter, and this is my associate, Carly Pachett.” She refrained from any specifics about the fact they represented Trevor because it wasn’t clear yet what her father was doing here. “Thanks for letting us use the suite today. Are you here for the game or for business?”
Robert looked uncomfortable. “Some of both.” He glanced at the attendant who was talking to Shelby and lowered his voice. “Since you’re a lawyer, I’m sure you appreciate my desire not to speak too openly in public, but we are in talks with your father about the future of the company, and Trevor’s future as our spokesperson is a big factor in our negotiations. When I spoke with Shelby about our concerns, she thought you might have some insights to share.”
It was a lot to digest, so Landon picked it apart word by word, suddenly clear about why dear old Dad was here. “You’re buying Zion,” she hissed in his direction. “And you’re worried about whether Trevor Kincade is going to besmirch the brand, aren’t you?” She didn’t expect an answer. She wanted to tell Robert Zion to run, run as fast as he could because once George Holt owned his company, he would change it from a family-owned business dedicated to good products into a sweatshop concerned only with the bottom line, but she owed it to Trevor to hold her tongue. Besides, she wasn’t about to give her father the satisfaction of seeing her lose her cool. “Well, this should be interesting.”
Unsure of what she might say or do next, Landon walked back to the railing at the front of the suite and caught Carly staring at her with an inquisitive expression. She wanted to say something about what a jerk her father was, that his only interest in Zion was as an acquisition, not a brand to build on, but she didn’t say anything and the irony wasn’t lost on her. The desire to share her feelings with Carly was exactly the kind of thing her father would’ve warned her about. She could hear the echo of his voice telling her it wasn’t wise to share personal information with a competitor, that they would only use it against you. She hated to admit it, but her father was right. Against her gut instinct, she ignored Carly’s stare and focused on keeping her feelings hidden.
* * *
Carly felt the mood in the suite shift after the arrival of the other guests and tried to piece together what was going on. Only two things were perfectly clear: Landon’s father was here, and Landon and her dad did not get along. She’d seen Landon stiffen the minute George Holt came close to them and Carly felt the ice form between them.
“May I get either of you another drink?” the attendant asked. Carly looked at George, Robert, and Shelby who were talking on the far side of the suite. Before she could respond, Landon pushed her beer to the side. “Bourbon, neat.” She looked around like she dared anyone to find fault with her choice.
If straight bourbon was the bar, Carly wasn’t going to try to hurdle it. Considering Trevor’s biggest sponsor was here, one of them should attempt to stay sober. Not wanting to offend their host, she ordered a vodka and club soda, figuring she could switch to just soda for her next drink and no one would know the difference. While the bartender fixed their drinks, she attempted to get Landon to open up. “I’m guessing you and your dad aren’t on great terms.”
Landon choked out a laugh. “Understatement. Big one.” She accepted the glass from the attendant and took a healthy swallow. “He’s big business, and I’m his greatest disappointment.”
“Hmm,” Carly replied and fished around for something genuine to say. She understood the concept of disappointment because she’d worked hard her entire life to avoid being the cause of it, while being driven by the fear of it. “Seems a little hard to believe that you, a lawyer up for a partnership in one of the top firms in the state, would be disappointing.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Landon tossed back the rest of her drink. “Yet somehow I manage.” She pointed at the group huddled on the other side of the suite. “Let’s go mingle. This is a work thing, after all.”
Carly heard the bitter edge in Landon’s voice. Was it possible Landon was as disappointed as she was to have their casual outing interrupted by not only work, but also by family drama of the highest order? Carly had no business being disappointed. No matter how Landon made her feel when she was standing close, this wasn’t a date, not even if it had started to feel like one. Landon’s family dynamic wasn’t her concern, nor should it be. “You’re absolutely right.”
Ignoring Landon’s outstretched hand, Carly stood and walked over to Shelby, Robert, and George, whose voices all trailed off as she approached. Summoning reserves of assertiveness she didn’t actually feel, s
he said, “I’m guessing none of you are here to watch the game. Shall we talk?”
George was the first to speak. “If the firm is taking this case seriously, then why isn’t Jane or Mark here to represent Trevor?”
Ass. Carly offered him an exaggerated smile. “Here? At the football game? There’s not a lot of ‘representing’ to be done during a Sunday afternoon game, but what there is Landon and I are perfectly capable of handling. I assume you have questions about Trevor’s future.”
“I have many.”
“Let’s hear them.” Carly crossed her arms and enjoyed the twinge of discomfort George Holt exhibited at being called out. She spotted Landon watching the exchange but couldn’t get a read on her reaction.
“Trevor Kincade has become the face of Zion Athletics, and the company has taken a big hit with the news of his arrest. Is he going to fight the charges? If he plans to take a plea, I need to know before we invest any more energy in this deal.”
“Mr. Holt only invests in sure things,” Landon called from across the room. She pointed her glass in his direction. “Ask him. He’ll tell you.”
George stiffened but didn’t respond. Carly willed Landon to shut up, but apparently she was just getting started.
“Mr. Zion, you’re a smart man,” Landon said. “You’ve built a trusted brand from the ground up. Why in the world would you want to sell to Holt Industries?”
Robert gave Shelby a save-me-from-this-conversation face, and Shelby was quick to intervene. “Robert, you know Trevor would never let you down. He has been with your brand since the beginning when other names were courting him, but he wanted to be part of something new, different. I promise he is going to fight these unfounded charges and we will make sure that whoever represents him is willing to go to whatever lengths necessary to make that happen.”