Page 8 of Turn Me On
Ah, hell.
But better to rip off the Band-Aid. “Listen, I don’t think Energize Drinks is going to happen,” I say.
“It’s not?” Zane asks it like he’s fighting off the disappointment. Trying to hide it from the three of us.
I don’t want to make Vance look bad, but Energize Drinks never should have been on the table. It’s common knowledge to Dragons fans that Zane is a water or bust guy when it comes to quenching his on-field thirst. He’s not the right athlete to endorse a sugary, jet-fueled, hyper-caffeinated drink.
“It’s not a good fit,” I say. “Maybe a water brand would be a better one to pursue. A water-bottle maker, even, since you have that lucky—”
“Lucky water bottle,” Zane cuts in, and we finish at the same time. His lips curve up. “How did you know?”
“You mentioned it in an interview last year. The game against the Barn Owls where you hit a grand slam. The day you—”
“Got the bottle,” Zane supplies, grinning now.
Yes. Fucking yes.I am making inroads.
“That’s the type of partnership we need to find for you,” I say, tapping the table for emphasis.
“The most successful endorsements happen when there’s a natural alignment,” Adriana chimes in. She has a great way with clients, keeping a good-news face on as she sticks to her guns. The woman is disciplined and focused—a perfect partner for me.
Vance nods, smiling sagely. “My man Maddox has some meetings in New York, Los Angeles, and London in the coming weeks to schmooze some brands. Maybe find a better fit for you, Z.”
I take nothing for granted. Just because I joined CTM doesn’t guarantee Zane will say yes to me taking point on landing his first endorsement deal.
If Zane doesn’t want to be repped by us, it’s his prerogative to say no. But Vance isn’t going to ask straight out if he’s all in on working with Adriana and me, and I doubt Zane would answer on the spot if it meant saying no to our faces.
Hemightsay yes on the spot, though, if he likes us.
Right now, he looks as if he’s working through possibilities in his head. Pros and cons maybe.
I wait on the edge of my seat. Then the server arrives with a silver tray of glistening nigiri, so I’ll have to wait longer.
“Your sushi platter,” he says, then sets it down.
Zane stares ravenously at the fresh fish. “Let’s eat,” he says, like he wants to devour every morsel. Kind of like he sounded when he propositioned me.
My head swims with inconvenient lust again, and I clench my fists under the table to clear the fog of desire.
I wish I could erase that encounter at the bar, rewind time so it never happened. Mostly, though, I wish I could say yes to his offer to take me home.
But I’ve never touched a client or come on to a client before. I can’t start now. Mixing business with pleasure isn’t merely foolish—it’s against the rules. If we work together, I’d be his agent; but I’m also andalwaysan attorney. And attorneys don’t sleep with clients, plain and simple.
During the meal, I shift the conversation far, far away from deals and ask about Vance’s kids. The four of us shoot the breeze about kid antics, with Adriana and Vance trading tales of their little ones, then we move on to Los Angeles versus New York versus San Francisco. Adriana lives in Brooklyn and declares it the best borough, while Vance puts in a vote for his home of Manhattan.
“I have to give props to Los Angeles,” I say. I do love my home base. “Can’t beat sunshine, the beach, or the biz.”
Zane, the San Franciscan among us, sighs and shakes his head. “You’re all wrong. Once you’ve gone full fog, you can’t go back.”
I laugh, a little more relaxed—hopeful he can put our wildly hot meeting behind us.
When we’ve polished off every delicious piece of fish, Adriana excuses herself for the restroom and Vance does the same.
Finally, an opening.
The second they’re out of earshot, I turn to Zane, and don’t mince words. “I owe you an apology. I didn’t say who I was at the bar because I was having too much fun talking to you, and I’m sorry. I truly hope I didn’t fuck things up for us when it comes to business. I would love to work with you, and you have my word I don’t make it a practice to hit on clients. That was a first for me.”
The man remains entirely impassive, turning his glass of water round and round. Then he stops fiddling and tilts his head to meet my eyes.