Page 16 of The Dating Contract

“I’m enjoying it,” she said with a smile. “Five years after I signed my first clients, they’re thriving. The segment of the industry is giving so many female and female-presenting athletes ways to succeed, more than they ever have.”

Gabriel smiled, tapping his pen against the ink-covered blotter. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

She nodded. “Yes,” she said, preparing herself to say what she needed to. “I’ve demonstrated to you that I’ve been an asset to the agency, and I very much appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to like this thing you’re asking?”

“If you don’t, I’ve given you the wrong impression,” she said. “Because what I want is to give back. I want to help to use my name and connections to build the agency further.”

“What are you asking for, Leah? Be very clear.”

“My name on the stationery. I want partnership.”

She watched the older man nod his head, glancing down at his blotter before looking back up at her.

“Interesting,” he said. “And you’ve thought this through?”

“I have,” she said, gesturing toward the papers. “This is what I bring to the table, a roster of men’s and women’s clients, dynamic potential. High-profile.”

“I’m not going to lie to you,” he said with a smile. “I’m glad you’ve asked me about this, because I’ve been thinking about it. But this is a pretty big decision. Being a name partner in an agency is life-altering. So this is what I want from you before we think about moving forward.”

This was not a no. This was definitely not a no. But what was it?

“Okay?” she said, as if she needed to confirm her interest before he continued the conversation and told her the requirements. “What do you need?”

“Outline document. Pluses and minuses,” he said ticking off the points on his fingers. “Things your current clients need, what you need to be able to provide them those things, leaving time for both old and new clients and your own breathing space. Because when you’re a partner, work-life balance won’t exist. So back to your office, pull it together by the end of day.”

This was what he wanted?

Easy.

Leah had gone through all her paperwork before coming in for this meeting, so pulling this information together would be simple. “I’m on it,” she said. And then she paused. He didn’t have to make it that straightforward, but he had. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “But this isn’t going to be a walk in the park. In fact…”

She looked up at him. “Yes?”

He was tapping a date on his calendar. “Are you busy on Thursday?”

Thursday. Everybody in the city knew what was on Thursday: Bruck’s annual get-together. Some of the city’s movers and shakers, gathering for a small cocktail party that he and his wife hosted at their townhouse in Manhattan. “No,” she said, trying to hold herself together. Because there was only one right answer she could give. “I’m not.”

“Good. I know you have a life, but you probably know my wife and I hold a small cocktail party every year: ten people. Some people, some clients, and their significant others. I’d like to see you and your significant other there this year.”

“I’d love to,” she said without thinking.

“Good. I hoped you’d be able to make it. You send me your personal email and I’ll send you the details.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome. Looking forward to the email.”

And as she left the office, her excitement turned to trepidation. She needed a significant other to bring to that party. Which reminded her of the crazy idea she’d had last night while watching the drama.

Because she had a call with Samuel at five.

He owed her.

Which meant she was about to suggest the most ridiculous thing she could think of and ask the ‘hot sofer’ if he wanted to make them a dating contract.

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