Billionaire's Second Chance

by Claire Adams

  “You know, I might grow to like this game if I can watch you watch it,” he said, standing up and moving toward the door to bid his guests farewell.

  “That’s my plan, Connor,” I said with a wry grin. “Suck you into football with my rabid enthusiasm.”

  Dax just grinned.

  #

  I tried to talk to Dax on the flight home, but he locked himself in his on-board office and spent the flight making calls that he didn’t want to talk about once we got in the car for the ride home. I was confused by the way he seemed to run hot and cold, but since I was getting most of what I wanted out of the deal, I let it go.

  When we got home, a small, red-haired man was waiting inside the penthouse. I hadn’t met him before, but something about him seemed off.

  “Payton Lasky, I’d like you to meet Finn O’Brien, my oldest and dearest friend,” Dax said as he poured whiskey for all three of us. Finn shook my hand and bowed slight as he did.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Lasky,” Finn said before accepting a glass from Dax and passing it to me. “I’ve heard good things.”

  “Have you really?” I laughed as I took the glass and waited for Dax to join us. “I’m surprised.”

  “Dax said you’re really into the Storm, and that you genuinely like football,” Finn said as he raised the glass to his lips and sipped. My stomach felt strange as I watched Finn situate himself in the easy chair with his back to the window. He had a wiry body that looked coiled and ready to pounce and his green eyes were guarded. I felt uneasy in his presence in a way that I couldn’t quite explain.

  “I do like football, but then I’m part of the Halas legacy, as I’m sure you’re well aware,” I said, trying to let him know that I wasn’t someone he could flatter into submission.

  “Ah, yes, I do know that,” he smiled as he ran a hand over the top of his head and smoothed his already slicked back hair. “Dax says you’re studying the team and helping line up the next draft picks; is that true?”

  “Well, I don’t know about helping identify draft picks, but I am definitely studying the Storm,” I said. “Do you like football, Mr. O’Brien?”

  “Please, call me Finn,” he said. I nodded, but when I didn’t return the friendly invitation, Finn’s eyes narrowed and I saw a predatory look cross his face. I knew the look all too well; it was one that my mother wore when she was hot on the trail of something she absolutely had to have. It made my stomach turn to see it up close again.

  “Okay, Finn,” I said. “Do you enjoy football?”

  “I enjoy a good competition between two equal challengers,” he said slyly, eyeing me as he sipped again. “But football isn’t at the top of my list.”

  “I see,” I said, shifting my gaze toward Dax who was staring out the window at the lake. “Well, I guess you two are quite the pair, then.”

  “Indeed,” Finn said with a mysterious smile. I hesitated, and in the moment of silence, my phone rang.

  “Excuse me,” I said, setting down my drink and grabbing my purse from the hall table before heading back to my suite and closing the door. I pulled the phone out of my bag and answered it harshly, “What do you want, Mother?”

  “Tonight is the Bears opening game at Soldier Field, and I expect you to be there, Payton Gale,” my mother said before hanging up. I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it for a long time before I took a deep breath and began to get ready.

  An hour later, I exited my room and rejoined Dax and Finn in the living room. I’d dressed in black, linen pants and a matching tank top in support of the Bears, but also to send a message to my mother. She’d always insisted we wear black and gold for every game because she said that all black made game days feel like a funeral. I knew when she saw me, she’d pitch a fit; in fact, and I was counting on it.

  “I’m heading out for a bit,” I said to Dax and nodding to his guest I added, “It was nice to meet you, Finn. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

  “Oh, you can count on it,” Finn smiled sending a chill up my spine.

  “Where are you headed?” Dax asked.

  “Oh, you know, just out and about,” I said, not wanting to share my family business in front of Finn and hoping that Dax knew what I was trying to tell him. “I’ll be back early.”

  “Okay, do you want me to have Geo drive you?” he asked almost as an afterthought.

  “No, I’ve called a cab, but thank you for offering,” I smiled as I moved across the room and bent down to kiss his cheek. I quietly whispered, “My mother,” and when I stood up, he nodded. I waved goodbye and headed down to the street, hoping that my time with my mother would go even half as smoothly, but feeling fairly sure it would be twice as rough.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Dax

  After Payton left, I turned to find Finn staring at me with a knowing grin plastered on his lips.

  “What?”

  “She’s sneaky,” he said, gesturing toward the door where Payton had just exited. “She’s smart and she’s sneaky. I’ll bet she’s headed to the Bears game.”

  “What makes you think that?” I asked, knowing that at the very least Payton was headed to meet with her mother. I had no idea if she would attend the game, but Finn saying it aloud started the idea racing through my brain.

  “She’s dressed in black, heading out for the evening, and she didn’t tell you where she was going,” he said ticking off the evidence. “If I didn’t know about the contract you two had signed, I’d say she was running off to meet her lover, but since I do know about it, I’m making an educated guess.”

  “So what if she is?” I asked. Sometimes Finn got ideas in his head that weren’t true, but worked the conspiracy through to the bitter end. It was annoying, but he’d been right enough times that I couldn’t entirely discount his assessment.

  “I’m just wondering how much information she’s handing over to the Bears coaching staff,” he shrugged. “I mean, not like we really care or anything, but there’s the principle, you know?”

  “She’s not a spy, Finn,” I said dismissing him.

  “Whatever you say, man,” Finn nodded as he set his glass down and stood up. “I mean, you live with her, right? You know who she is and how she operates by now.”

  “She’s a good girl,” I said firmly shutting the door on the conversation. “What’s up with the new business?”

  “I’ve got some information from the CAA meeting,” he said, following the change in topic easily. Finn was nothing if not good at reading my moods. He knew when to push and when to let it go, and now that I’d moved on, so had he. “I think we can start setting up offices in LA and New York and hiring some clerical workers to get the ball rolling.”

  “You wanna do that?” I asked.

  “Not really; you know me, I’m not so good with the help,” he said, giving me a pointed look that stirred up my defenses.

  “You’re a dick sometimes, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know, but you also know you can trust me,” he said raising an eyebrow. I wanted to punch him.

  “Fuck off, O’Brien,” I growled. “Get the hell out and leave me alone.”

  “As you wish, boss,” he said tipping an imaginary hat and disappearing out the door.

  I stood staring at the lake, watching the late afternoon sun sparkle on the surface and wondered what Payton was doing right now. I hated the fact that Finn knew exactly how to get into my head and create the kernel of doubt that would leave me feeling suspicious. I tried to convince myself that Payton wasn’t selling us out to her mother’s team, but the longer I stared at the lake, the less certain I became.

  CONTRACT VOLUME IV

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Payton

  The cab dropped me off at the south end of the stadium and as I walked toward the ticket window, I ran into several security guards who had known me since I was a child. They high-fived me and told me that my mother had already arrived and was up in the skybox. One of the guy
s offered to walk me up, but I told them there was no need to leave their rounds. They radioed up to let the guys watching the skybox know I was on my way, and then told me to enjoy the game.

  As a child, I absolutely loved coming to the stadium on opening game day. The crowds were always excited to be back at Soldier Field and the anticipation of a possible championship season like the legendary ’84 season ran through the stadium in an electric hum. The Bears flags had been raised alongside the American flags and today they fluttered gently in the summer breeze as I climbed the steps toward the skybox.

  I waved at the concession workers who ran the beer and hot dog stands, and stopped to talk to Pete McEvoy who had run the stadium steps selling peanuts and cotton candy for more than 20 years. He told me he had a good feeling about today’s game and he was sure the Bears would beat the Eagles. I passed on his offer to place a bet, but laughed as I said I was glad he had such undying faith in the boys.

  I climbed the last flight of stairs and stood marveling at the bright green turf covered with the Bears logo and the fresh markings of a new season of play. This was home to me. The place where all my favorite people gathered to cheer our boys on to victory or console them after defeat — though my grandfather would often kick them in the ass when he felt they had played badly. No one seemed to mind that his granddaughter would sit in the back corner of the locker room and listen to Coach Halas recount the game. By the time I was a teenager, I’d become as much a part of the tradition as everyone else who passed through the tunnel and took the field.

  I sighed as I turned and headed for the skybox. I knew I couldn’t avoid my mother, but I certainly didn’t want to engage her before I absolutely had to. One of the guards opened the door and welcomed me to the skybox, and I saw my mother standing with her back to the door, surveying the field as she’d done every single time I’d ever been in this box.

  “Hello, Mother,” I said trying to hide my contempt under a layer of good manners and calmness.

  “Payton Gale, what on earth are you wearing?” she said as she spun around and took my outfit in from head to toe. “You look like you’re going to a funeral.”

  “Well, if the shoe fits…” I muttered. She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, letting me know she’d heard what I’d uttered. “I’m just trying to stay cool today.”

  “You know how I hate the all-black look,” she said disapprovingly. She was dressed in a tight-fitting, yellow sheath dress that hugged her curves and made her look much younger than her actual age. She’d topped the dress with a string of large, black pearls my father had given her for Christmas the year after Jonathan died, and on her feet were her usual black stilettos with the red bottoms. She was way overdressed, but that was the point. She was in power, and power dressed the part, football game or not.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” I offered, not knowing what else to say. “I’m here as you requested.”

  “Why do you always have to be so difficult?” she asked as she ran a hand through her severe, dark bob. “Your brother would have—”

  “My brother is dead,” I said, cutting her off. Her eyes widened and I could see the look of pain that quickly flashed across her face before she composed herself.

  “You are such a rude and ungrateful child,” she hissed. “I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve this kind of treatment.”

  “Oh really? No idea at all?” I said as I felt the anger and frustration rising in my chest. I’d come there because she’d ordered me to, and now she was berating me for something she’d done?

  “Payton Gale, your father would be ashamed of the way you’re behaving,” she scolded as she crossed the room and stood staring at me from less than a foot away.

  “No, actually, I don’t think he would be,” I retorted. She could try and reconstruct history, but I wasn’t buying any of it. “He would probably agree with me about the fact that you have become a cold, calculating, bossy bitch who can’t seem to keep her nose out of her daughter’s business!”

  SLAP! The sound of my mother’s palm meeting my cheek sounded extra loud in the empty room. I gasped as I covered my cheek and stared at her.

  “Don’t you ever talk to me that way again,” she hissed. “I will not have it.”

  “Mother, why are you doing this?” I asked in a soft voice. “Why are you being so incredibly cruel and unbending? What is wrong with you?”

  “Me? What is wrong with me?” she laughed. “Oh, Payton, you have no idea how the world works. Your father spoiled you and now that he’s gone, I’m left to pick up the pieces and make sure that you don’t lose everything as you flit through the world trying to make a career out of a pipe dream.”

  “It’s not a pipe dream, Mother,” I said stiffly. “I’ve worked hard to get to where I am.”

  “You’ve worked hard to become the mistress of a Back of the Yards billionaire who sees you as nothing more than a means to an end for his sports dream?” she spat. “Well, good for you; that’s something you can be very proud of.”

  “I am not his mistress,” I said through clenched teeth, and despite the fact that I was lying through them, I continued, “We are seeing each other, and we’re serious about this relationship.”

  “Ah yes, well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?” she smirked. “Give it a few months and he’ll get bored when he realizes you have nothing he wants.”

  “You’re unbelievable,” I said as I stood staring at her, trying to figure out how, despite the fact that she had raised me, I knew nothing about my mother. It was like I was looking at a complete stranger.

  “No, I’ve simply learned that there are things you have to do if you want to survive, and I’ve done them,” she said as she moved to the bar and poured herself a glass of champagne from the open bottle that sat chilling in ice. “I’m not as sentimental about things as you are, Payton, and if you want to succeed, you’d better learn to toughen up, young lady. Champagne?”

  I shook my head and watched as she carried her glass back to the seat she’d commandeered for herself and sat down. I could not fathom what it took to be the person she’d become and I felt sad that she’d hardened her heart so much that she now hated her only daughter. I looked at her as the anger and hurt bubbled up inside me, and before I could stop myself, I said, “I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to hate their own mother, but I’m finding it a lot easier every time I see you.”

  “Get out,” my mother growled. “Leave this stadium and do not come back until you’ve learned some manners, Payton Gale. Honor thy mother and father. Do you remember nothing?”

  “Ha! You’re such a hypocrite!” I cried as I turned for the door. “A pathetic hypocrite who killed her own son.”

  I beat a fast exit and slammed the door behind me. When I heard the sound of glass shattering against the door, I knew I’d hit a nerve.

  I called a cab and sat in the backseat weeping silently the whole ride back to the penthouse.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Dax

  When Payton returned to the penthouse, I was in my office drafting a letter that Finn and I decided to send to potential clients once the new offices were up and running. I’d left the door open, but Payton walked past it without saying a word. I waited to see if she’d reemerge, and when she didn’t, I got up and went to check on her.

  “Payton?” I called as I tapped on her door and then cracked it open.

  “Go away,” she said in a flat voice.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Leave me alone,” she said without elaborating. So, I did as she asked.

  It wasn’t until Wednesday that I saw her, and by then she looked like her usual self. I walked into her office to let her know I was going to begin the process of interviewing potential GMs. She was sitting at her desk talking on the phone when I entered, and I marveled at how at home she looked. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and she was wearing a silk blouse the color of the bright-blue summer sky over Lake M
ichigan. She smiled at me and held up her hand as she finished the conversation.

  “Hey, how are you doing?” she asked after she ended the call. “I’m sorry I haven’t seen you all week.”

  “I’m good,” I said as she got up and walked around the desk. “I was worried.”

  “I know, I’m sorry,” she said looking down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at me. “Sunday was rough, but I’m okay now.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “Not really,” she said with a faint smile. “But thanks for the ear.”

  “Anytime,” I nodded. I moved ahead saying, “I’ve got two things I want to talk about. First, news coverage has been dropping over the past couple of weeks, so we need to schedule this week’s dinner plans for somewhere accessible; any suggestions?”

  “I would love to go to Black Jack,” she said smiling up at me as she stepped forward and took my hand. “It’s been a while and I’ve got a taste for a good burger. Plus, Jack will appreciate the publicity, I’m sure.”

  “You’re on,” I grinned as I squeezed her hand, remembering our first meeting and wondering if she had plans to try and recreate the bathroom adventure that had been interrupted. It had been more than a week since she’d exercised her contractual options, and I had been wavering between feeling relieved not to have to deal with the complications it created and antsy because I couldn’t shake the fact that I wanted her more than ever.

  “What’s the second thing?” she asked in a husky voice as she pressed up against me.

  “I’m going to start interviewing for the GM position next week,” I said, deciding that it would be better to give her the news straight up rather than beat around the bush.

  “I see,” she said dropping my hand and backing up.

  “Don’t be mad; you know I have to do this,” I said.

  “I’m not mad,” she replied, failing to hide the fact that she was.

  “Payton, you knew I was going to have to conduct interviews,” I reminded her.