Power Play (Play Makers Book 4) (13 page)

Once they had stowed their luggage in the
bedrooms, Murf continued the lesson, predicting that negotiations
with Bam’s team, the Lancers, would be a quote-unquote love-fest
given how anxious they were to continue winning, Triple Threat
style. Murf’s strategy wasn’t just to get more money for the
upcoming season, but more
guaranteed
money. Darcie had
learned from her study that some salaries sounded huge but could be
completely illusory.

On the other hand, guaranteed money was just
like it sounded. Virtually in the bank for most purposes,
especially if the agent did his or her job right.

“He’ll get performance bonuses as well,”
Murf explained. “That’s one of the ways he lost out last year,
which was a crime given his athletic feats. This year’s gonna be
different thanks to us. Which reminds me . . .” He
flashed an impish smile. “I’ve told you a million times why PMA is
the best sports agency in the country. Care to remind me?”

“Hmmm, let’s see. We’re one hundred and ten
percent devoted to our clients’ welfare. No job is too big or too
small. We combine experience with creativity and innovation. We
manage their careers. Their entire futures, even beyond their
playing years. Investments, leisure pursuits, promotional
opportunities, legal advice. But first and foremost, we get them
top dollar for every breath they take, every move they make.”

“Not bad,” Murf said, nodding. “What
else?”

“We wash their cars, order flowers on
Mother’s Day, book their flights, clip their toenails—whatever
their hunky little hearts desire. We’re there for them—physically,
mentally, emotionally. When they’re playing well, we’re in the
stands cheering. When things go wrong, we reassure them, provide a
shoulder to cry on, and most importantly, fix the problem.” Pausing
for an exaggerated breath, she asked proudly, “Did I leave anything
out?”

“Just be sure to hammer the money thing.
These guys love being pampered but they’re no dummies. Lucrative
long-term contracts, maximum playing time, and a vibrant public
image are the keys to their success now and in the future. They
know that better than anyone.

“Take Bannerman, for example. He’ll play for
years, no doubt about it. Rich and famous ten times over. But even
the longest football career ends in the prime of life. So what does
he do then? Live the good life? Or start a second career? Part of
your job is to create limitless possibilities for him.”

A confident knock announced that her
soon-to-be first client had arrived, and she moved toward the door,
but Murf pulled her back gently for some final words of advice.
“He’s ready to sign, but I’m still gonna give him a hard sell. He
deserves it. You can sit back and listen or jump in any time. Then
we’ll sign him up, take him to lunch to celebrate, then head back
up here to talk strategy for tomorrow’s meeting with the Lancers.
Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Okay.” He gestured toward the door. “Your
career begins now.”

• • •

The first shock came when Bam showed up in a
sophisticated gray suit with a tie as blue as his piercing eyes.
But it didn’t end there. Aside from a few obligatory jokes about
her qualifications, he was all business, asking questions, making
it clear he had thought of everything.

It impressed Darcie so much that, when the
time came for the halfback to sign the actual papers, she suggested
gently, “Are you sure you don’t want Murf designated—on paper—as
your lead agent? It wouldn’t hurt my feelings, you know. I’d still
be part of the team, doing everything I can for you and your
career.”

From the corner of her eye she caught Murf’s
expression, and to her relief, she guessed he had been toying with
the idea of asking this as well. Not that he didn’t have confidence
in Darcie, especially knowing he’d be pulling the strings for the
first few years. But this all-business Bannerman guy had a sharp
edge to him where his future with Rachel was concerned, and they
needed to respect that, Darcie’s ego notwithstanding.

Bam eyed her intently. “Rachel and I talked
about that last night. We figure I get the best of both worlds with
you. Murf’s expertise, your enthusiasm and new ideas. So yeah, we
want
you.”

She smiled in delight. “I love it that you
two talked it through.”

“It’s our future,” he said, adding with a
grin, “Plus, it gets her hot, so it’s a win-win for me.”

She laughed at the reemergence of bad Bam.
“I’m glad I could help. And I’ll dedicate myself to you guys. So if
you’re
okay with this, I’m supremely confident.”

“So am I,” Murf assured them. “Darcie’s
potential is through the roof. And as her only client, you’ll truly
be her number-one priority.”

“Which raises an interesting point,” Bam
said to Darcie, his eyes twinkling. “If the Big Dog, Decker and me
were all drowning, who would you save first?”

It had “trick question” written all over it,
so she pretended to think it through.

Bam grinned at Murf. “She’s smart. Save the
QB first, right?” To Darcie he explained, “Then John can help
you
save
me
. And if it’s not too late, we’ll grab the
kicker too.”

They all laughed, then Bam leveled a stare
at Murf. “There’s a lot to be said for backing the rookie. So
that’s my play.”

“Interesting,” Murf murmured. Then he
flashed a confident smile and nudged the papers closer to the
almost-client. “Sign here. Then we’ll celebrate over lunch.”

• • •

Lunch in the Ashton’s four-star restaurant
proved so much fun, they stayed for hours, first to celebrate, then
to hammer out the details of Murf’s plan to make Bam Bannerman the
most highly paid halfback in the league. In fact, if Murf had his
way, only QBs would reliably earn more than Bam.

And from what Darcie was hearing, it was
only fair. This guy was acknowledged far and wide as the best
athlete in the NFL today, surpassing even the most agile
cornerback. Even surpassing Johnny Spurling.

And notably surpassing the infamous Surgeon
as well.

Bam had the good sense to confirm Murf’s
plan, reminding him only that he didn’t want his new money to come
at the expense of the Big Dog’s salary. That would be a deal
breaker, Bam insisted, as much as he wanted to provide for Rachel
and “the kids.” Luckily, Murf reiterated his loyalty to Johnny
Spurling, and assured him they were restructuring the QB’s contract
in a way that freed up salary cap for the upcoming year while
ensuring Johnny didn’t lose a dime.

“If anything, John’s the big winner in all
of this,” Murf assured Bam forcefully. “By restructuring while
preserving the guaranteed amount, we bumped up his money for next
year. The Lancers aren’t stupid. They want to make
you
happy, sure. But they want John Spurling’s loyalty first and
foremost. They’d never do anything to jeopardize that, trust
me.”

“So we’re all on the same page?” Bam exhaled
as though honestly relieved. “Thanks, you guys.”

“One more thing,” Murf added as though it
were pure afterthought. “When I say we’re full-service, that covers
scandals too. So I remind my clients to contact me right away—day
or night—if something happens. And if there’s something in the past
you’re worried about, we can help with that too. But only if you
tell us.”

“That’s cool,” Bam told him. “But the teach
keeps me in line. And before that? Sergeant Major Bannerman would
have kicked my ass if I stepped in anything. And my dad wouldn’t
like it either.”

Darcie burst out laughing. “Your mom is the
enforcer?”

“Be afraid,” he agreed cheerfully.

“Sounds like we’re done, then,” Murf said,
his smile euphoric. “John and Erica wanted to throw a celebration
for you, but I’m guessing you’re anxious to share all this with
Rachel?”

Bam grinned. “She’ll be fun tonight, believe
me. But I promised Erica I’d stop by for drinks before my flight.
So it’ll be the McSpurlings, you two, and me and Decker, both solo.
Unless he brings Kerrie, which let’s face it, he won’t.”

Darcie winced at the subtle barb against
Kerrie, and changed the subject quickly. “Murf mentioned how we
don’t just handle contracts and media stuff. We’re truly at your
service. So if there’s anything you—or Rachel—need, please just let
us know.”

“Great. Take your top off.”

“Geezus, Bam,” Murf groaned.

The halfback laughed. Then his tone
softened. “There
is
something, actually. We need a house up
here. I have one, but it’s apparently uninhabitable for
females.”

Darcie bit back a smile. “I have no idea
what that means.”

“It’s clean,” he insisted. “But not too
fancy. Mostly pinball games, a bowling alley, three pool tables,
hoops and some batting cages. And the home theater might have a
bachelor vibe to it. Or at least, Rachel won’t touch the
furniture.” His eyes warmed. “She’d live anywhere to please me, but
I won’t subject her to a man cave. And I don’t trust myself to pick
a new place. So?”

“It sounds like fun. Can I talk to her about
it?”

“Yeah, but don’t listen too hard. She’ll say
she wants someplace simple and unpretentious. That’s probably not
gonna work for me. The only thing she really loves aside from fruit
trees is the ocean. I can’t give her that in Portland,
but . . .”

“The lake?” Murf asked enthusiastically.

“Yeah. I’ve got a couple of buddies who live
down there and it’s sweet. My current place is close to Deck and
the Big Dog, and the lake isn’t. So if the perfect place surfaced
near them, fine. But my gut tells me I’m destined to bang the teach
within view of that lake.”

“Just when you were starting to sound
romantic,” Darcie complained.

“Trust me, it’s her kind of romance.”

She smiled. “When does her school year
end?”

“The first week in June. But she committed
to six weeks of summer school before she met me, and she won’t let
them down, so she’ll move here mid-July. I usually visit her down
there, but she can fly up on a weekend if we have some hot
prospects to look at.”

“Hot prospects coming up,” Darcie promised.
“And I’m glad we have some time to look. I want it to be perfect.
Correction—it
will
be perfect.”

“And maybe Darcie will find a place for
herself at the same time,” Murf suggested mischievously.

“Hell, you can live with me and Rachel,” Bam
assured her. “All I ask is you get one of those French maid outfits
and dust my trophies a couple times a week.”

Murf arched a sardonic eyebrow. “Sounds like
we’re done here. Bam? You’ll never regret this. We’ll see you for
drinks, then we’ll call you and Rachel when the deal’s officially
done.”

They stood and the men shook hands firmly.
Then Bam pulled Darcie into a bear hug and assured her, “You’re
like a sexy little sister to me, you know that, don’t you?”

“I’d rather be your agent,” she complained
lightly.

“Always,” he assured her. “We’re gonna do
great things together, babe. You, me and the teach.”

• • •

Darcie needed to spend every minute between
now and the Lancer meeting picking Murf’s brain, but when “the
McSpurlings” threw a party, even an impromptu one, no one dared
turn them down. Not to mention how much Darcie appreciated the
contact with the Big Dog, and the chance to further cement her
friendship with Erica.

Or rather, Erica McCall-Spurling, whose
hyphenated last name had prompted Bam to dub them the McSpurlings
in the first place.

Darcie hadn’t brought any evening wear so
Murf sent her to the boutique in the lobby, where she found a
tasteful black dress and charged it to her boss. After enduring a
lecture about how she needed to keep a full wardrobe in Portland
for just this kind of emergency, she headed to the shower for a few
moments alone, mostly to review the day’s exciting events, but also
to daydream about Wyatt Bourne.

Was it wrong to fantasize about sex while
knee-deep in negotiations and celebrations with his sworn rivals?
She honestly didn’t care. But to her surprise, all she could think
about were the intricate details of Bam’s performance bonuses and
the possibility of finding him and Rachel the lake home of their
dreams.

You’re officially a sports agent,
she
told herself as she faced the spray from the shower, allowing it to
blast her.
If you had any
real
guts, you’d follow Em’s
advice and cancel the stupid football lessons. He’ll just humiliate
you, and for what? You’ve got the Triple Threat. The guys who
kicked the Surgeon’s ass. Why lower yourself?

Tempted, she abandoned the idea when Murf
rapped on her bedroom door, reminding her they had ten minutes
until showtime. So she toweled off, slipped into the new dress and
her spike heels, and then moved to the mirror to unpin her hair,
brush it, and apply minimal makeup. She didn’t need to impress
these guys with her looks anymore.

Come for the breasts, stay for the
brains.

And from this moment onward, her brains
needed to carry the day. At least with Bannerman, Spurling and
Decker.

With Wyatt Bourne? She had no idea. But
she’d worry about that on Saturday.

• • •

After his subdued demeanor in the suite at
the Ashton, Bam lived up to his name in the glitzy restaurant
chosen by the McSpurlings for their party. First he reduced them
all to tears of laughter when he insisted Rachel wanted Darcie and
Erica to fill in for her, naked-wise, in her absence. It wasn’t
funny in theory, but the expression on Johnny Spurling’s face, and
the way Bam backed down—grinning but clearly repentant—made it
priceless.

Johnny still seemed like a rock star to
Darcie with his gorgeous face, broad shoulders, and charismatic
smile. And she wasn’t alone. Bam Bannerman—a bigger man in terms of
size, build,
and
personality—called this guy “the Big Dog”
for a reason, easily subsuming his own ego to the QB’s. Even Murf,
who usually occupied the dominant position in all things business,
seemed content to serve as Johnny’s
consiglieri.