Page 75 of Thoroughly Innocent Intent

As soon as we’re inside, I push her against the wall and press my body to hers. “Damn I’ve missed you.” I say just before our lips meet. I’m expecting her to hesitate, to have some lingering need to stay professional, but she wraps her arm around my neck and parts her lips, kissing me with as much desperation as I feel.

“Damn, Beautiful,” I gasp when we finally pull apart. “Does that mean you want me as much as I want you?”

I’m fishing for the words I want to hear. If she doesn’t say them, I will. Then I’ll ask her to move in with me, so I don’t have to go days without seeing her ever again.

“Yes.” She gives me a chaste little kiss before wiping at my lip, presumably to remove any evidence of her mouth on mine. “I didn’t think you were coming until later.”

She’s been here for hours already, doing whatever last minute stuff needed doing before the event starts, which she refused to let me help with. I couldn’t stay away from her any longer.

“I couldn’t wait to see you. Sam I…” A guy in a waiter’s uniform bursts through the door.

“Oh, there you are. The chef wants to speak with you. Something about vegan meals?”

Sam’s eyes dart between me and the waiter, and I can tell her mind is caught between staying with me and doing her job. I want to keep her with me a little longer, instead I kiss her knuckles and let go of her hands. “Do what you need to do. We’ll finish later.”

She gives me a weak smile and turns to go, but surprises me by turning back and throwing her arms around my waist. “Thank you,” she whispers.

I take a minute to hold her before kissing the top of her head and sending her on her way. I hide in the coat room for another few minutes to calm my nerves, which had flared up while I was preparing to bare my soul, then I put on my game face and prepare to make a pitch for a bunch of money.

Three hours later and I’m more exhausted than I’ve ever been on the field. Schmoozing is hard as fuck, especially since most people want to talk about football and not the actual foundation we’re here for.

Sam told me to expect that. She said some people would be genuinely interested in the cause, though a good number of them don’t care what they’re supporting so long as it gives them the chance to mingle with us athletes and make themselves look good in the community.

That makes me think I should fund the whole damn thing myself and skip this part of the process, but Sam said personal connections can help the foundation just as much as financial connections, I’m obliging the guests by talking about our Super Bowl prospects.

I’m talking to yet another tech guy, or maybe it’s telecom, when I catch a glimpse of Shane over by the bar. Before I can think better of it, I make an excuse about needing a refill and head in his direction.

“Sam did a great job.” He gives me a handshake. “This is a great turnout. Know how much you’ve raised?”

“No idea. Doesn’t matter, anyway. She said making friends with people who can move things forward is just as important as raising money, especially since I can put up what we need.”

“That’s true.” He tips his beer bottle toward me in a mock salute. “The dog and pony show is a critical part of the process.”

“It’s starting to make my skin crawl.”

“It’s a small price to pay for a good cause. You’ll get used to it.” He slaps me on the back.

“He’ll get used to what?” A fatherly voice intrudes on our conversation.

“Ah, there’s the guy who got me into this shit. I blame you for having to wear a tie.” I stick out my hand. “Shane, you remember my agent, Chase?” I glance at Shane as I shake hands with the guy who holds my future in his hands.

“Yeah, nice to see you again.” They shake hands.

“So, what will you get used to?” Chase gets right to the point.

“This. Playing dress up to make friends who will write a check or do me a favor so long as I tell them a story about a game or a play they remember.”

“Having friends off the field is a good thing.” Chase won’t elaborate further in front of Shane, but he doesn’t have to. I get the point he’s trying to make about some of these people having the ability to influence my future.

Shane excuses himself to go find Elliot, leaving Chase and I alone. Guys don’t like to intrude on each other’s conversations with our agents.

“Speaking of off-the-field friends, rumor has it you’ve made one.” Chase pushes his wire-framed glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

“I didn’t get any bad press.” I sip on my ginger ale while I wait for him to tell me how stupid it was to get photographed with a woman when we’re trying to broaden my image. Just because I’ve never had to make public apologies for my behavior doesn’t mean he approves of my many past girlfriends. He’s never called me out on it per se, but he’s hinted that it could come back to bite me if I wasn’t careful.

“No bad press. Quite the opposite in fact. I’d say your new friend has worked in your favor.”

“What are you talking about, Chaser?” I’m feeling suddenly uneasy.

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