Bigger Than Beckham (21 page)

She stared up at Tony, wondering if the
answer had truly been in front of her all along. Could it really be
that simple? He wanted to own her team outright, not invest in
it—he’d made that as plain as his desire to get her into bed. But
could he be persuaded to invest if she really worked at it? Maybe
if they spent some more time together as he’d suggested, and if she
had the chance to show him how much this meant to her, he might
begin to see reason.

It was a worth a shot, anyway. And since he
was basically trying to do the same thing to her, it only made
sense to return the favor.

“At least say you’ll think about it,” Tony
said.

“How could I not?” Martha pushed him over and
straddled him, giving him a sly grin as she gripped his rigid cock.
“Now, how about we focus on the matter at hand, Mr. Branch?”

While lounging casually at the breakfast bar
in Martha’s kitchen, Tony had eaten her home-cooked, he-man
breakfast with gusto, quickly demolishing three eggs, almost half a
pound of local, sugar-cured bacon and four buttered biscuits with
Georgia peach jam. Martha had enjoyed seeing him eat, marveling at
a human metabolism that could ingest so many calories and yet
permit a wonderfully trim, hard body. She suspected he still worked
out hard every day, even though he no longer played
professionally.

He hadn’t seemed in any hurry to leave—not
surprising since as far as she knew his only business in town was
to try to wrest the Thunder from her hands—and she’d been
grievously tempted to take him right back to bed as soon as he
finished inhaling breakfast. Summoning up her self-discipline,
she’d instead called him a taxi and packed him back off to his
hotel despite his good-natured protests and a playful attempt to
get her back into the bedroom. While
he
might not have a
pressing schedule, she had issues that couldn’t wait. In fact, her
meeting with Kieran and the accountant was slated for ten, so she
didn’t have a lot of time to get ready.

Before Tony left, he’d prodded her yet again
about taking off with him to London but she’d held off committing.
During the wee hours before dawn, still ramped up, Martha had
worked on the logistics in her head. She figured she might be able
to make a London trip into something more than a whirlwind
sex-fest, or a last-ditch effort to get him to invest in her team.
There was also a chance she could do something else important, and
all it should take was a call to Martin James to find out for
sure.

After heaping the breakfast dishes in the
kitchen sink, she retreated upstairs to her room. Grabbing her cell
phone, she speed-dialed her editor’s number.

He answered on the first ring. “Okay, tell me
the answer is yes.”

She laughed and plopped down on the bed.
“Hey, there, you just hold your horses. I’m still up to my tush in
very large reptiles down here. But I do have a question that might
help me make up my mind.”

Martin heaved a loud sigh, as if his
rebellious teenager daughter had just brought home a Goth-clad
boyfriend sporting multiple piercings. “Shoot.”

“Martin, would you happen to know if Colton’s
in London right now? I’ve read that he’s been hiding out a lot in
Scotland lately.”

Martin coughed, obviously muffling it with
his hand. “I talked to him day before yesterday. He said he’d be
heading back to Scotland, but not for a little while.”

Martha gave a fist pump, which tumbled her
backwards into the welter of pillows and sheets on the destroyed
bed. “That’s all I wanted to know, Papa Bear.”

“So, why exactly do you care?” Martin said in
a suspicious tone. “It sounds to me like you’re already planning an
interview. Are you keeping me on a string for any good reason?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the article,”
she hedged. “And I’ve decided I can’t move ahead without talking to
Colton first. Face to face. I’m nowhere near sure it’s the right
move for either of us, and I’m still dealing with a hell of a
situation down here with the Thunder. In fact, I got a stinking
ultimatum from the bank yesterday.”

Martha knew she could be honest with her
editor without having to fear he’d try to jump on a story.

“Sorry to hear that, sunshine,” he said,
though Martha knew his sympathy was tinged with hope that the
team’s demise would bring her scurrying back to the paper. “But are
you telling me you’re going to go to England to talk to
Colton?”

“You know we’ve got some baggage, Colton and
me. The kind that would be better discussed in person.”

“Or, better yet, not at all,” Martin shot
back, reacting to the tone in her voice. “You know it’s important
to keep your personal and professional lives fully
compartmentalized, Martha. Just let it go, and do the story.
Colton’s a pro, and I expect he’ll treat you like a professional,
too.”

Colton’s a pro, all right, a first class
professional asshole, she thought. She was under no illusions he
would treat her like any other reporter. “Just give me his London
number, Martin, please.”

Another heavy sigh. “Why do I get the feeling
that no good is going to come of this, Martha Winston?”

“Oh, ye of little faith. Trust me, you
skeptical man. I know what I’m doing,” Martha said, lightening her
tone. At least she hoped she did.

“Please don’t tell me this excursion is going
to back up the time frame you gave me for your decision. Because I
meant what I said when I offered you this story, and I’m not going
to wait while you try to hash out some old history. Neither will
Colton, if I know him.”

“Oh, relax, Papa Bear. It may mean an extra
day or two at most. You know I won’t jerk you around.”

After grumbling for another minute or so, he
finally gave her Colton’s number. “You know, Martha dear, there are
entire squadrons of hungry reporters around here who’d love to get
this assignment.”

She snorted. “Sure, but exactly how many of
them could persuade Colton to give them the correct time of day?
Wasn’t that the whole point of your asking me?”

“Just make a damn decision,” Martin growled
before disconnecting.

She frowned at her cell phone, not sure
whether Martin was pissed off with her or was just doing his usual
grumpy old man routine.

Whatever.
He’d get over it. And he’d
told her what she needed to know, plus given her a brief reprieve
on the date to give him a final answer on the article.

The idea of seeing Colton Butler again was no
longer nearly as unappetizing a prospect as it had been. The way
she sized it up right now, she’d keep all her irons in the fire and
hope none of them scorched her ass.

* * *

Still feeling the lingering effects of
Martha’s damn fine breakfast, Tony ordered just a Caesar salad for
lunch along with a bottle of a California white that was one of the
priciest on the Hyatt menu. The wine seemed a bit excessive for
lunch, but he couldn’t help feeling in a celebratory mood. Rex, who
had strolled into the restaurant a couple of minutes after him,
natty as always, was taking his time perusing the menu.

“Tate’s on the way?” Tony asked.

Rex didn’t look up from the menu. “He is.
Unfortunately, he got jammed up in some bloody traffic snarl. I
talked to him again a few minutes ago and he should be getting here
any time now. By the way, before he arrives why don’t you fill me
in on how things went last night with Miss Martha?”

“It was quite a night,” Tony replied vaguely
in an understatement if there ever was one. Too bad he couldn’t
hold back the shit-eating grin he knew would state the obvious. Not
that he had any intention of spilling details, but the night with
Martha had surely been one for the record books.

“Ah, I never doubted you for a moment,” Rex
said with a mock sigh. “Lucky you. As for me, after dinner at the
hotel, I took a stroll around the downtown area—which is rather
moribund at night—then retreated back here in good order for a
drink or two at the bar.”

“Sorry to have left you on your own like
that,” Tony said, although he thought Rex looked rather pleased
with himself for some reason.

Rex waved him off. “My destiny is to live in
the shadows. Just give me the basics of what happened. We don’t
have time for the details, what with Tate on his way.”

“Everything went even better than I
expected,” Tony said before tasting the splash of wine the server
poured for him. He nodded his approval to the young lady and she
filled their glasses.

Rex nodded. “I caught the game highlights on
the telly. The Thunder were utterly wretched again, which is good
news for us, of course. Not so much for Martha, though.”

“Actually, I didn’t really see all that much
of the match,” Tony said, before he thought better of it.

Rex’s eyes rounded. “Good God, really? Surely
not in her stadium suite?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “A gentleman never
tells. You know that, mate.”

“Bloody unbelievable,” Rex muttered. “And
you’re not exactly a gentleman, as you well know.”

Tony frowned. “You don’t approve?”

“Of course I approve. But I hadn’t exactly
envisioned the two of you rolling around the suite while her lads
were getting pulverized below.” Rex narrowed his gaze. “You don’t
carry on like that at Fenton when I’m not around, do you?”

Tony laughed out loud at Rex’s tone of mock
horror. “Enough about my sex life. Let’s get to business.”

Rex smiled. “I thought that was what we were
talking about.”

Tony ignored the little jibe. “Martha was
quite candid about the meeting she had with the bank and the
sponsors. According to her, they were aggressive almost to the
point of brutality. As if they actually want her to fail, as she
said.”

“I suppose that fits with Steam Train’s
agenda,” Rex said. “But First Coast National shouldn’t want her to
declare bankruptcy. Not unless they’re in bed with the brewery.
Otherwise, it doesn’t make sense.”

Tony had already reached that conclusion.
“What if Steam Train made a commitment to First Coast National to
cover the bank’s losses? They could get the team on the cheap if it
goes into receivership, so making the bank whole wouldn’t be a
problem.”

Rex grimaced. “That sounds like something the
bastards would do. But they won’t know we’re in the picture. Not
unless Martha or Geoffrey blabs something.”

“Martha won’t,” Tony said, shaking his
head.

“Is Martha any…shall we say, more pliable
today than yesterday? I mean in her attitude about selling us the
team, of course,” Rex finished on a sarcastic note.

Tony was tempted to give his partner a one
finger salute, but since they were in the middle of an upscale
restaurant he held back. “We made a deal not to talk about that,
and we stuck to it.”

“I’m sure you were otherwise quite occupied,
in any case,” Rex said in a tone as dry as any gin martini.

“There’s that, too. But I made a spur of the
moment decision to propose something that should help move things
along.” Tony spotted Cole Tate approaching the entrance to the
restaurant. “If she goes for it.”

“I’m intrigued.”

“Right,” Tony said in a clipped voice,
wanting to get it in before Tate descended on them. “I suggested to
Martha that she fly back to London with us for a few days of
R&R. I said I’d take her to the Lions match Saturday, and we’d
just spend the rest of the weekend sightseeing and having fun. It
would give her a chance to forget about her situation for a bit.
And maybe it just might make her more amenable to our offer.”

Rex gaped at him. “That’s rather audacious,
even for you.”

Tony shrugged, standing up as Tate
approached. “Rex, if and when Martha gives the go-ahead, I want the
jet here as soon as you can make it happen. Before she gets a
chance to change her mind.”

Rex nodded as he got to his feet, and then
both men shook hands with Tate. The three made small talk while
Tate scanned the menu and ordered. Once the server had filled the
consultant’s wine glass, Tony said, “So, did your inside contact at
SportsNet have anything useful for us?” Tate had told Rex yesterday
that a contact at the cable network might be willing to give them a
hand.

The takeover specialist nodded, relaxing into
the cane-backed chair as he swirled the wine. “He did, but it’s
going to cost you this time.”

Tony waved a dismissive hand. “Fine. You
wouldn’t have agreed unless it was worth it.”

Tate smiled. “I appreciate your saying that,
Tony. Look, there are rumors of a deal in the works, all right. My
guy didn’t know all the details, but he said it looks like Steam
Train, First Coast National Bank and SportsNet have been talking
and might have come to some sort of agreement regarding the
Thunder. I’m thinking it’s a plan to get the team into the
brewery’s hands, no doubt with a renegotiated contract with
SportsNet.”