Play Date (Play Makers Book 3) (34 page)

Rachel’s step was light, her smile hopeful. And while it was tough for Erica to tear her attention from her, she shifted it to Bannerman and watched him rise from his chair, his expression uncertain, as though his friends had sabotaged his confidence.

But that only lasted a moment. Then his face lit up, just like Rachel’s, and he strode across the room to meet her.

Breathe,
Erica ordered herself, but she couldn’t do it. They had knocked the wind right out of her, especially when Rachel stepped up to him and sandwiched his face between her palms.

She had no idea what the wide-eyed blonde said. Just a word or two at most, or maybe there was no need for words at all. Whatever it was, it put a spell on both of them, and the halfback pulled her gently into his arms and kissed her as though she were the only woman he had ever known. Ever cared about.

Ever loved.

“Wow,” she murmured to her husband.

Johnny turned to her, clearly as blown away as she was, and said in an awed voice, “Yeah, what the hell is
that?”

• • •

It hadn’t taken much time in the brightly lit restroom for Rachel to realize she was the worst girlfriend ever. This was Bannerman’s night. Meeting with a high-powered agent who could change the course of his career. Introducing his new girlfriend to the three most important people in his life aside from his parents. Everything had been at stake, and to top it off, he had had to deal with a petulant date.

It was such a relief to be in his arms again. To feel his mouth on hers. To know—or at least, dare to believe—she hadn’t embarrassed him to death.

Pulling free of his kiss, but only to see his face again, she told him contritely, “I’m so sorry, Vince. I was nervous about meeting them, but that’s no excuse. Can you forgive me?”

His blue eyes blazed. “They think I’m blowing it with you.”

“What?”
She shook her head. “Never.”

“Even John said it. So tell me the truth.”

She gave him a sheepish smile. “They just don’t understand how we are together.”

“How are we?”

“We’re perfect,” she said, her voice husky. Then she kissed him again, this time leaving no doubt that she was madly in love with him.

“Man,” he murmured, his expression dazed. “You had me worried.”

She smiled, loving the moment. Never wanting it to end. Then she realized their dinner companions were staring at them. “We’d better get back to the table.”

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “Don’t worry, teach. I’ll be good from now on.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“You’re sure?”

She nodded, her heart soaring. Then she took him by the hand and led him back to the group, where he held her chair again. And this time when he sat down, he scooted closer and looped his arm around her shoulders as though challenging his friends to object.

Rachel smiled at Johnny and Erica. “I’m so,
so
sorry I stormed off that way. I was worried about making a good impression, which is silly because you’ve been so welcoming. So can we please start over?”

“Bam acted like a jackass,” Sean told her.

“Oh, really, Sean?” She arched a playful eyebrow.
“He
did?”

They all laughed and the kicker complained, “Once again,
he
screws up, I pay the price.”

Johnny eyed her teasingly. “We’ve got questions about this list, you know. We understand why ‘bang’ and ‘panties’ and ‘bridesmaids’ are there, but what’s up with ‘sheriff’?”

Surprised, Rachel glanced at Erica. “You understand why ‘bridesmaids’ is there?”

“Trust me, we’ve heard it a million times. How do you put up with it?”

“It’s one of my favorites.”

Sean grinned at her. “So explain ‘sheriff.’ Did you guys get a ticket for necking in a parked car?”

“We prefer necking in a
moving
car,” Bannerman told him. “Anyway, it’s private. Right, teach?”

She nodded, pleased, and brushed her lips across his.

Sean pretended to cringe. “My eyes are bleeding. Make it stop.”

“Hey, you had your chance,” the halfback reminded him. “Now she’s mine.”

They all laughed, then Johnny tapped the printed paper. “So back to the list. Why is ‘vegetarian’ here? I know Bam can make
anything
sound dirty, but still. Vegetarian?”

“I know that one,” Sean said. Then he proceeded to tell them about the delicious soup and the suspiciously contaminated tabletop.

They were still laughing when Erica arched a warning eyebrow at Rachel. “Murf just walked in. He can seem intimidating at first, but he’s a sweetie when you get to know him. So just be yourself.”

“Thanks.”

They all stood, and Erica deftly switched seats so she was at the end of the oval—across from Sean and closer to Rachel—leaving the chair next to Johnny for Patrick Murphy. A harbinger of things to come, Rachel realized. The tone would now shift, becoming a business meeting. And even though Bannerman was a major player, and Sean was a valued client already, the two power brokers of the group—the QB and the money man—would call the shots for the remainder of the evening.

Squeezing Bannerman’s hand briefly, Rachel stayed back when the agent approached, allowing the prospective client to do the honors. The two men shook hands vigorously, and Murf said something that seemed formal. To Rachel’s surprise, Bannerman adopted the same demeanor, replying with a serious expression.

Then they approached the table. “Hey, boys and girls,” Murf said with a broad smile. “You should be filming this, Erica. Any sponsor would salivate over this group.”

“You read my mind,” Erica agreed, stepping over to embrace him. “Thanks for letting us crash your party. We’ve been dying to meet Rachel, and trust me, she’s better than advertised.”

“Sounds promising.” Murf gave Johnny and Sean a nod, then turned back to Bannerman and asked, “This is Rachel?”

The halfback nodded. “Yeah. Rachel Gillette, meet Murf Murphy.”

The agent shook Rachel’s hand respectfully, showing no hint of kryptonite-induced hesitation. His sophisticated, ultra-smooth manner would definitely have intimidated her if Erica hadn’t weighed in, but thanks to the timely advice, she was able to smile back at him with confidence that was nearly half genuine.

“Thanks for joining us, Rachel,” Murf said, releasing her hand.

“Anything for Vince,” she assured him.

“Who’s Vince?”

“Oh, my God,” she said, laughing sheepishly.

Bannerman laughed too. “The big dog already used that one on her.”

Murf chuckled and asked him, “So which do you prefer? Bam or Vince?”

“I’m good either way.”

“Excellent. We’ll play it by ear.”

Murf moved to the empty chair across from Rachel and Bannerman, and she noticed—and appreciated—when her halfback moved his seat away from hers before holding her chair for her. He wasn’t going to clown around, at least not for the moment.

This was too important. His career. His income for the next few years at least, but more important, his chance for recognition of the great work he did on the field. The announcers had said it out loud for everyone to hear—the best athlete on the Lancers squad. And given the competition at this very table, that was quite a tribute.

But there’s a conflict of interest if Murf represents all three of them,
she reminded herself. Which meant she needed to think like a businessperson, not a proud girlfriend.

Even though she was
bursting
with pride.

Murf instructed the waiter to bring another round of drinks, ordering a martini for himself. Not a beer like the other guys, and she wondered if that was intentional. Maybe not, since he was smooth and polished—good-looking, but in a more glamorous, sharper way than the others—and martinis were probably his go-to drink.

But she suspected it was more than that. He wanted to separate himself from his clients. They were the athletes. The talent. He was the sophisticated businessman.

Then he surprised her by noticing her glass and saying, “You’re not drinking, Rachel?”

“Maybe later,” she said with a smile.

He smiled back. Analytical, like her. Receiving the subtle message she hadn’t actually intended to convey, but had instinctively known was correct.

Business meeting.

He
could order a martini because he was experienced. Unflappable. It was part of his image.

But would he actually drink it? Rachel suspected he wouldn’t.

“So, Vince,” he said smoothly. “I was glad to hear you cut your ties to your former rep. I know it was a big step, but trust me, it’s the correct one. And it simplifies things enormously.”

Rachel glanced at Bannerman, surprised he hadn’t mentioned this to her. When had he done it? Sometime between last Sunday and this afternoon. Probably face-to-face, since he had a sentimental attachment to the old relationship. Either way, it must have been stressful.

Bannerman’s full attention was on Murf. “Yeah, he’s been talking about retirement for a while. So it was a mutual decision.”

“Good for him.” Murf’s tone was brisk. “It’s no secret I want to represent you. But I couldn’t push it until the necessary firewalls were in place. I don’t foresee an actual conflict, since the Lancers will give you whatever you want. Trust me on that. Still, I want you to feel comfortable. And I think I have a way to make that happen.”

“You mentioned your wife’s cousin,” Bannerman said, nodding.

Murf nodded too. “I’ve known Darcie since she was in college. She’s dynamite, pure and simple. I tried to hire her straight out of law school but she took a two-year clerkship with a federal judge. Now he’s having health problems so they’re wrapping it up early. Good news for us, because she’ll be a crackerjack negotiator. Doesn’t know a thing about football,” he added with a laugh. “But we’ll fix that. And obviously”—he leaned closer, his eyes sharpening to hawk-like intensity—“I’ll be right there. Every step of the way. Don’t worry about that.”

“I never worry,” Bannerman assured him.

Rachel bit back a smile. Such a perfect answer. Because the one who should be worried in this scenario was the guy making the pitch.

And she noticed that
that
guy hadn’t touched his newly delivered martini. It was simply a prop, just as suspected.

Leaning back in her chair, she let herself relax, finally enjoying this part of the evening. Bannerman didn’t need her for anything but moral support after all. He knew
exactly
how he wanted to play this. Could see the whole field and everyone on it, and would find the winning lane.

Wasn’t this why they called him Bam? His opponents never saw him coming.

“So, Rachel,” Murf said, his gaze shifting to her. “This brings us to the reason I asked Vince to include you tonight.”

“Pardon?”

He flashed a disarming smile. “I’ve been remiss in hiring female agents, and I want to remedy that. Darcie’s going to be a huge addition, but I never planned on stopping with her. So when Sean raved about you last week—went on and on about how intelligent and insightful you are—I saw an opportunity for both of us.”

“Pardon?” She knew she sounded like an idiot, erasing any points she had scored earlier in the meeting, but couldn’t imagine what she was supposed to say to that.

“I took the liberty of checking you out. Top of your class at Yale? In econ, no less? With a full ride? I’m not easily impressed, but trust me, you managed to do it.”

Rachel stared, completely stunned. Was Patrick Murphy recruiting
her?
It made a strange sort of sense, didn’t it? He wanted Bam Bannerman, and Bam Bannerman had a soft spot for Rachel Gillette. The halfback might eventually be fine with cousin Darcie, but Rachel was a sure bet, at least in the short run.

All around the table, people were watching her. Erica, looking supportive but understandably blindsided. Sean looking proud, like he had accomplished something monumental.

And Johnny Spurling? The QB? He was on the same page as Bannerman. The
exact
same page. Silent signals across the table as they improvised a new strategy for this unexpected play. Johnny was friends with Murf as well as Bannerman, so she had assumed he was neutral in this meeting, but now she got it.

Bannerman was his halfback. His guy.

And vice versa.

Murf apparently noticed it too, and cleared his throat before continuing. “No need to tie this to Vince unless the two of you
want
it that way. It’s just a chance for me to recruit two amazing talents at one time. The timing is perfect with Darcie coming on board. You could train with her—different strengths but the same unlimited potential. And the money’s phenomenal. You’re a teacher, so your income would quadruple on day one. Seven figures within five years.” He leaned forward, his smile deadly. “You’re smart, articulate and charming. And to be blunt, you’re beautiful, which can be a double-edged sword. But you have the poise to carry it off.”

Rachel gave Bannerman a sheepish smile. “Say something.”

“I’m all ears,” he told her, his eyes twinkling

“I agree with Vince, Rachel,” Murf insisted. “This is about you, not him. Your opportunity for an exciting career with unlimited earning power, especially with me as your mentor. Because make no mistake . . .” He paused for emphasis. “I’m the best.”

“I’m sure you are,” she stammered. “And I’m flattered. But I’m a kindergarten teacher. It’s not just my fallback job, Mr. Murphy. It’s my calling.” She felt her cheeks flush, and added hastily, “Does that sound naïve? It’s not. It’s all I ever wanted.”

“You went to Yale,” Murf reminded her.

“To vindicate my father.” She smiled fondly. “They wait-listed him when he applied, way back when. And he never got over it. So when my standardized test scores were high, he went crazy. It all happened during a difficult time for my family, and I wanted to do something special for him.” She sighed. “I’m sure he secretly wished I’d be a doctor or a lawyer, but he knew how I felt. And he knew I didn’t care about money. Because my family tried it both ways, and the money hurt as much as it helped.”