Gunslinger: A Sports Romance (16 page)

"Sweet," I respond with faux enthusiasm and a saccharine smile.

"I actually need to catch up with Jason, before we head in the conference room. I'll see you in there."

She's looking for some sort of reaction from me, but I don't give her one. Not this time. And it's not because I'm working hard not to give her the satisfaction, but because I actually don't give a damn about any of it.

"See ya."

I'm sitting in awe of the three beautiful men in the conference room who make up the group Spin. The guitarist Ren. The drummer Paxon. And of course lead singer Marley. After a few minutes of introductions, coffee pouring, pastries and pleasantries, Marley doesn't waste much time getting down to business.

"So everyone, we agreed to this meeting because everyone at Carson has been such huge supporters of our career, and we felt that we at least owed you the courtesy of coming in; but having said that, the three of us have already agreed that since Priscilla is no longer with the company, we're ready to move into a different direction."

My stomach drops. Along with probably everyone else's in the room. We thought that the fact they were taking the time to come in was a good sign. Or at least a sign that they were open to being convinced to stay. Now it seems as if they're shutting us completely down, before we even get to make our case.

"We're sorry to hear you say that, guys. We've shared a long and committed relationship with Spin. One that we're very invested in keeping. Why don't you tell us some of your concerns. Give us a chance to address them."

"To be honest, Pete, we stayed with the company this long only because of our loyalty to Priscilla."

"Are you following her somewhere else?"

Word around the office is that Priscilla is starting her own firm, which would make sense. Her husband started the company with his connections and money, but it was her personality and attention to detail which kept clients happy.

"We gave it considerable thought, but we've grown so much as a group, and as men, that we feel at this juncture that we need to go with a company that is more aligned with our consciousness."

"In what way?"
 

"Well for instance, I'm sure your office is still burning fossil fuels. We are more interested in a company that is concerned with doing business in an environmentally green building. Using wind and solar energy. Composting food waste. Finding ways to reduce their carbon footprint."

There's an uncomfortable silence in the room. My guess is because there's nothing particularly green about a prewar office building in Midtown Manhattan, and there probably won't be for many years to come. It would cost a fortune to implement some of Marley's ideas.

"To be fair gentlemen," Marisol speaks up. "We don't make decisions about office space and things of that nature. Mr. Carson owns this building, but he doesn't make building administration decisions. He contracts a management company for that."

"And that management company will do whatever the person paying them tells them to do. You're just proving my point–that Carson is a seventy-year-old millionaire who has no interest in what his impact on the environment is. On what world he's leaving for the next generation. We're not comfortable with that."

I think I'm starting to realize just how loyal Spin is to Priscilla. More than any of us realized. It sounds to me like they don't want to stay, because they now have a strong dislike for our owner. The philanderer. The out of touch CEO. And there's zilch we can do about that. So I might as well put my two cents in. This may be my only chance to speak to my favorite group of all time.

"Hi guys, my name is Sabrina. I'm an account manager here and can I just say that I totally understand everything that you're saying. I'm not going to lie, I doubt that Mr. Carson would be able to implement any of those suggestions you had in any sort of timely fashion. But what we could do as a team, is to make sure that we invest your dollars into investments that align with your ... consciousness."

Marley smiles at that comment, so I take that as approval to keep going. I start flipping through my tattered marble notebook and look for one of the ideas I jotted down for them eons ago.

"For example, what if we find a specific and local need in each city you tour in, and donate ten or twenty percent of the show's proceeds to that charity. What makes it unique is that instead of a general cause like say breast cancer, your donation would make a direct impact on the community you're performing in. Getting that community even more excited. Getting the press more excited about you, the concert, and the charity.
 

"And just to take it a step further, I took a look at some of your last tour dates. You had a great turn out in Hawaii, but did you know that Honolulu has a very high homeless rate in ratio to their population? A twenty percent donation to shelters in that city could dramatically impact the ability to serve more displaced families."

"That's a damn good idea," Marisol says. Backing me up like the friend she is.

"It definitely is," Peter agrees. "What do you think, fellas? Does this sound like something you'd like to hear more of? I'm sure if you give us the opportunity to brainstorm, our team here can come up with a lot of ideas that will work for you."

"Maybe," Marley responds then turns his body in my direction. "Do you listen to our music, Sabrina?" he asks.

"Yes." I smile. "You're my favorite band of all time. I listen to you all the time."

"What's your favorite song?"

"Treading Lightly," I say with no hesitation.
 

Marley smiles. "I didn't write that one."

"I know." I look at the drummer Paxon. "You wrote it right?"
 

"You're right." He smiles proudly. "Maybe I should write more."

"I've been saying that for years," Marley says.
 

"All right team Carson. Maybe we were a little hasty. We can give this thing a trial run. It won't hurt for us to stay on board for another three months, but I think the three of us agree that Sabrina here should be our point person. She seems to know us best. You cool with that?" Marley asks me directly. In front of the entire room.

"Umm–".
 

I'm stuck like chuck. This isn't my decision to make. I look to Peter.

"Absolutely," Peter says. "Sabrina is one of our best."

Abby looks like she's about puke.

"Yes," I chime in. "I would definitely love to work with you all."

"Good then." The band stands up to leave. "You'll be hearing from us soon, Sabrina. Even though we're in a transition, please make sure my mom gets her bills paid on time this month. She'll kill me if they're late."

"No problem. I'm on it," I say in what I hope is an assuring tone.

The three of them shake hands with everyone in the room and once we're sure that they're not within earshot any longer, the office erupts. Spin is our biggest client, and if they left us, it would have been a huge loss.
 

Woo Hoo!

Hallelujah!

"You did it, Sabrina. Spin is really yours. Congratulations." Marisol hugs me.

I'm still a bit numb.

"What in the ham sandwich just happened in there?" I ask her.

"You just saved the company's ass. That's what happened."

I receive several more pats on the back as well as one disgusted look from Abby, as she pulls Jason away for another one of her so called
mini meetings
.

"Can we speak in my office for a minute, Sabrina?" Peter asks.

"Sure."

Marisol hugs me again. "Smile. This is a good thing."

"I know. I'm happy. Just stunned."

I check my cell phone before I go into Peter's office. For some reason, I have the urge to tell Saint about Spin. Maybe to throw it in his face since I've been threatening him with them for the longest time, or maybe because I just want to talk to him. But there are no missed calls or texts from him, so I abandon that idea for the moment and go talk to Peter. I'm sure we have a lot to discuss, seeing that he's been temporarily handling Spin since Priscilla left the company.

"Have a seat, Sabrina."

"Thanks," I say nervously.

"You've been here for a little over three years, and you've made amazing strides. It's no secret that you've wanted to work with Spin in some capacity, and now I see why you do. You're passionate about their music as well as who they are as a group. You understand them."

"Thanks, Peter. I like to think that I do."

"Spin is a huge account. Trust me when I say that no matter how down to earth that they appear to be, that they are a lot of work. I worked with Priscilla closely on many projects and got a chance to see first hand all that's entailed with running their tours and their daily lives. They have large families, and they employ a lot of people. You'll be paying a lot of bills and putting out a lot of fires."

"Understood."

"I'm going to be honest and say that I wasn't going to give you or Abby Spin. I just didn't think either of you were ready to handle such a huge account, but I had to agree with the group in the meeting today, because they requested you specifically. And for obvious reasons. You were good in there. Like I said, you know them in a way that I don't."

"Thank you."

"But we have a problem."

Uh oh.

"What is it?"

"You take care of Saint."

You mean the jerk who I haven't spoken to in weeks?

"And you think I can't handle them both?"

"It would be tough ... not to mention that Saint requested that he be notified first if by some chance you were put on the Spin account."

"Notified?!"

"I didn't want to invade your privacy before, Sabrina, but I have to ask. Just what is your relationship with Saint Stevenson? He asked for you specifically when he agreed to sign with us. Or rather he made it clear that there was no deal if you weren't his manager. I don't usually agree to demands of that nature, but I was afraid we wouldn't get his business if I didn't, and we needed it. Especially if Spin decides to leave."

"Saint and I don't have a relationship other than a professional one. We had a very brief meeting in the past, but nothing to warrant him asking for me specifically."

I swear Peter is looking at me like he doesn't believe a word I'm saying; and as if it couldn't be worse timing, Kate knocks on the door.

"Sorry to interrupt guys, but Saint Stevenson is here to see you, Sabrina."

Great.

"Should I send him to the conference room? It's still a little trashed in there from the meeting."

"Thanks, Kate. Have him wait in reception. Sabrina will be right out."

"Ok!" Kate sounds happy that she gets to ogle Saint for a little longer. I'm sure he'll enjoy it as well.

"So I guess you're going to need an office," Peter says after Kate exits.

"Really?"

"You now have five clients. Two of them being multi-million dollar clients. That's a senior management load. If you're able to get Spin to commit after the three-month trial, you'll be promoted and you'll get your office. Think you can handle it?"

"I do." Or at least I want to try.

"Well your first challenge is going to be how you're going to convince your ball player that you can take care of him and a bunch of rock stars all at the same time. I get the feeling that he likes to be the center of attention. Especially yours."

"I'll handle it."

That arrogant ball boy doesn't have a choice.

SABRINA

I giggle to myself. Saint is entirely too wide and long for the chairs in the waiting area, although he actually looks comfortable stretched out with his arms behind his back and his legs crossed at the ankles.
 

He also looks absolutely mouth watering. Freshly showered, dressed in a dark blue hoodie, jeans and sneakers, and I can smell his yummy ass from here. He makes it difficult to stay angry with him.

"Like what you see?"

"I'm not looking at much."

"Should we go somewhere private, so you can get a better look?"

I can't believe he's doing this in front of people I work with.

"Are you showing off for Kate right now?"

"Can I get you anything, Mr. Stevenson?" Kate grins. No doubt loving the exchange between us. More gossip for the office. I'm going to kill Saint.

He's different today.
 

He seems intense.
 

And he's delivering his one-liners with a little edge to his voice.
 

He responds to Kate's question without ever taking his eyes off of me. "Thank you, Kate. It's nice to see that someone has some manners around here, but I'm going to grab something when I take Miss White here to lunch."

"I already ate."

"You never eat."

"She's telling the truth, Mr. Stevenson. We had morning buns and coffee in the conference room not too long ago."

"Big meeting today?" Saint asks Kate while still basically eye fucking me.

"The biggest! Spin was here and Sabrina–"

"Thank you, Kate," I cut her short. "But I'm sure Mr. Stevenson doesn't want to hear all the boring details."