Page 9 of The Play

So yes, probably a huge surprise to him.

“It’s a good investment,” Grant said with a light shrug.

It was not even a particularly good lie.

Deacon’s eyebrows rose.

“Eventually, it will be,” Grant corrected.

“Is that how you’re approaching it? As an investment?” Deacon wondered. He didn’t sound particularly pleased about the idea. And Grant understood. The last owners, they’d siphoned every bit of money off the team, along with half a dozen other absolutely shitty actions.

Not limited to awarding the only huge contract on the team to a known abuser.

Grant had followed Deacon’s entry into the NFL and his subsequent rise to prominence with eagerness. He’d followed the unfolding story of the Condors’ garbage fire the last year with a hollow pit in his stomach.

Even at twenty-one, Deacon had been brimming with honor and loyalty. He and Grant hadn’t been friends, exactly, but those were two things Grant hadn’t ever doubted about him.

Grant knew the question he was really asking: are you gonna put profits above everything else? Even your own players? Even above what’s right?

“I’m considering it the right move for me, at this time. Diversification and all.” Grant waved a hand, absently, like he bought football teams all the time. His investment bankers had not felt so sure about it, but Grant had overridden all their protests.

Yes, it was semi-insane, him buying a football team.

It only made sense if you knew it was Deacon’s football team.

But he certainly wasn’t going to tell Deacon that.

“Ah.” Deacon didn’t sound any more convinced than he had before Grant’s bullshit answer. Not surprisingly.

You need to convince him it’s good. That you’re good. Your past isn’t going to be enough.

Grant had hoped it would be.

But clearly that was not the case.

Deacon Harris had become a much tougher nut to crack.

You’re not supposed to think about nuts. Or cracking them.

“I know things weren’t good last year. The last few years, probably. But that’s partly why I’m doing this. I want to fix this. I can fix this.” Grant told himself to treat Deacon as one of his shareholders, one of the board members he didn’t necessarily like, and persuade him. “My company has one of the best employee satisfaction rates not just in the IT sector, but in any sector. Because I don’t believe a job should be just a job. And I don’t believe a job should ever make you feel out of control or unsafe.”

Deacon glanced over at him. “You can save the hard sell for the other owners.”

“It’s not a hard sell if that’s what I believe,” Grant said.

Let me make this team safe for you.

Deacon’s forearms clenched, and Grant’s stomach clenched right along with them. In arousal. And fear.

“I never expected that this was how we’d meet up again,” Deacon finally said.

Grant had certainly fantasized about it, though.

“It’s only weird if we make it weird,” Grant said.

Deacon shot him a look. “Seriously?”

Grant shrugged. Aware of how badly he was fucking this up. It should’ve been easy. But then nothing about Deacon had ever been easy.

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