Page 38 of The Show

“You’re welcome,” he smiled.

Had I never noticed Penn’s lips before? How had I never noticed Penn’s lips? The fullness of them, the softened Cupid’s bow, emphasized by the dark blonde stubble which had grown since the party. Or the way he ran his tongue along his lower one right before he spoke.

“So… not that I’m not grateful you’ve randomly appeared in my… here.” I stopped myself from calling this room my office, suddenly embarrassed when we were sitting on the floor surrounded by boxes. “But why are you here?”

The air shifted again. He tugged on his cap then ran his hands over his thighs before tucking them up in front of him. “Your website looks good. Are those your clients?”

It didn’t bypass me that it was the second time he hadn’t answered my question.

“Thank you. They were my clients at my old company, but they’re there as examples of work I’ve done. Once I’ve built up my own client roster, I’ll replace them.”

“Have you got any clients yet?”

I grimaced. “Technically, no, because the clients from my old place that are coming with me have to wait until I’ve been gone a year so I don’t get sued for stealing. I have some new business meetings set up this week though.”

He nodded. “Good, sounds good. Well done.”

“Penn, why are you here?”

He looked at me again with those mysterious grey eyes, then reached round to his back pocket and pulled out a rolled piece of paper and passed it to me.

“What’s this?”

“It your offer. It’s what I’m offering you to come work for me… I mean, for The Lions. To come and assess the situation, then do whatever it is you need to do to get the club some positive press or whatever. You know, like everyone seems to think is a good idea.”

I frowned. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

He hesitated for a second before answering, rubbing through his stubble, “Yes, I do. I think you can help, and I need all the help I can get right now.”

I opened up the paper and read it, needing to blink a few times to really take in what I was seeing.

“Penn, this is five hundred thousand dollars.”

“I need a lot of help,” he grinned, one I hadn’t seen for a long, long time, jogging me of forgotten memories of when we were kids, and Laurie used to send Penn to steal tubs of ice cream from the chef’s kitchen, and he’d return with arms laden full of flavors.

“Penn…”

“Your old salary was one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars. There’s going to be long hours and a lot of work before I’m announced, and then up to Spring Training. I need you to work exclusively on this,” he admitted as he looked around. “Once my ownership is announced, I’ll also need you at the stadium, and there’ll be an office there for you. Head of Brand and Communications. Therefore, the salary bump.”

I didn’t know what to say. There was far too much to unpack, starting with how the hell had he managed to get my old salary? When I told Lauren I’d help him, I wasn’t expecting a full time job, with – I looked back down at the offer sheet – a hefty 401k and benefits. I was expecting lending my time on a project, perhaps some salient advice offering, but not this.

“Penn…”

“Beulah is coming on board too, as my new Head of Legal. She’s written your contract,” he spewed out, like he’d been expecting me to say no and needed reasons to get me to say yes.

But, Jeez, he’d been busy.

I tried to stop my eyes from widening too much. “Are you just going round employing friends and family?”

“Something like that.” His chuckle was low and rumbly, sending a light trail of goosebumps over my skin. “Look, you don’t have any clients yet, The Lions will be your first. PR and communications is all the same thing, right? Doesn’t matter the industry.”

I mean, technically, but it was more than that. I knew nothing about sports. This wouldn’t be something I could pull out of my ass. This would take me time; this was teamwork.

“No, but this,” I waved the paper at him, “this is an actual job offer, not The Lions retaining the services of my company.”

“Semantics. Just see how you get on, meet with the team there and be my inside person for who’s worth keeping. Please, Lowe.”

There was that tone again, the almost pleading one he’d laid on me when he’d asked me not to date Bryce Wexler. And it was true, I didn’t have any clients, and this money would go a long way to helping me build a company. Not to mention, having a major league team on my portfolio would help me attract new clients.

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