Love Irresistibly (28 page)

Ford looked over and nodded. “Okay.”

They both fell quiet, looking out at the skyline. Finally, Ford spoke. “You know you brought this on yourself by not following the Rules.”

Smart-ass. “I did follow the Rules.” Well, mostly
.
“But I somehow ended up here, anyway.”

And, unfortunately, she knew what she needed to do about that.

Twenty-six

ON MONDAY AFTERNOON,
Brooke spent the fifty-minute drive from Chicago to Lake Forest getting in the zone.

She was focused, determined not to be distracted by anything going on in her personal life, as she ran through the various points she wanted to make with Curt Emery. While her pitch varied somewhat depending on the potential client and their food service needs and facilities, what always remained constant was the fact that she one hundred percent believed in Sterling and the business they were growing.

Nevertheless, she remained pragmatic about the likely outcome of this meeting with the Bears. While Curt Emery may have been interested enough to hear her pitch, it was still a long shot given the team’s long-standing relationship with Spectrum.

While driving, her phone chimed repeatedly with a stream of chatty text messages from Ian.

ARE YOU THERE YET?

HOW’S THE DRIVE?

THINK YOU’LL GET TO SEE THE PRACTICE FIELDS? TOO BAD THE TEAM IS AT TRAINING CAMP.

I’M ALREADY PICTURING THAT SKYBOX ON THE FIFTY-YARD LINE. HA.

Clearly, Ian wasn’t as down with the let’s-remain-pragmatic approach.

Just before three o’clock, Brooke walked through the main entrance of Halas Hall, the modern glass and steel building that served as the Bears’ headquarters. She checked in at the front desk, where the security guard handed her a visitor’s badge and directed her to the elevators.

Curt Emery’s office was located on the fourth floor, along with the rest of the team’s front office. Brooke stepped out of the elevators and was greeted by a receptionist whose desk sat before a large, panoramic photograph of Soldier Field. Only a minute or so later, a man in his midforties, wearing khakis and a button-down shirt, approached.

He held out his hand and introduced himself. “Curt Emery. So nice to meet you, Ms. Parker.”

“Please—call me Brooke,” she said, shaking his hand. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

He guided her down a hallway. “We’re in a conference room this way.” He smiled at her tentatively. “So about our meeting . . . this is rather unorthodox for me. As you know, we’ve contracted with Spectrum for nearly twenty years for the food service at Soldier Field. And in the interests of full disclosure, I have a good relationship with the senior manager there who handles our account.”

“I understand,” Brooke said. “I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to tell you about the things we’re doing at Wrigley Field and the United Center—and the things we can do for your organization as well. But I promise, you won’t get a hard sell from me. Not yet, anyway,” she added.

Instead of laughing at the joke, Curt stopped in the doorway of the conference room and shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah . . . see . . . that’s not exactly what this meeting is about.”

Brooke cocked her head, having no clue what that meant. “Okay, what is this meeting about, then?”

“Here’s the thing. I sort of mentioned to my contact at Spectrum that you’d called me. I was just joking around with him, saying that if he didn’t keep me happy I might have to consider giving Sterling Restaurants our business, that kind of thing. But then I received a follow-up phone call from Palmer Green himself, the CEO of Spectrum North America. He was
very
interested in the fact that you were trying to pitch Sterling to me.”

Brooke waited, trying to figure out where Curt was going with this. So Spectrum’s CEO knew she was going after another one of their clients. So what? It was hardly a secret that Sterling was aggressively building its sports and entertainment division. “And how does this relate to our meeting?”

Curt gestured to the conference room. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

Confused, Brooke stepped inside and saw a man wearing a tailored navy suit sitting at the conference table. He stood up when she walked in.

Curt made the introduction. “Brooke Parker, this is Palmer Green. CEO of Spectrum North America.”

Palmer looked her over with a sharp gaze. “So you’re the one who’s been stealing away my favorite clients.”

Well. This was indeed a surprise.

Brooke looked back at Curt, beginning to understand why he’d insisted that she come alone. “Unorthodox? In your business, Mr. Emery, I’d think we’d call this a blindside.”

Nevertheless, she walked over to Palmer and held out her hand. No clue what this was about, but if Spectrum’s CEO had thought he could fly out here and intimidate her into backing off his company’s business, he was in for a rude awakening. “What an interesting surprise, Mr. Green,” she said while shaking his hand. “Let me guess. This is the part where you ever-so-charmingly suggest that I stay away from Spectrum’s clients.”

He smiled at that. “No, Ms. Parker. This is the part where I ever-so-charmingly offer you a job.”

Twenty-seven

DESPITE BEING SURPRISED
by Palmer’s words, Brooke managed to give Curt a withering look as he smiled apologetically and quickly excused himself from the room.

“Don’t be mad at poor Curt,” Palmer said with a chuckle when the two of them were alone. “He was just following orders.” He sat down at the conference table and gestured, the air of a man who was used to getting his way. “Please, have a seat. At least hear me out.”

Brooke considered this for a moment, and then sat down. “Five minutes. But you should know that we’re already off to a shaky start given the theatrics. Any reason you couldn’t just pick up the phone if you supposedly wanted to offer me a job?”

“This isn’t the kind of offer you make over the phone.” Palmer eased back in his chair. “Besides, I wanted to size up the illustrious Brooke Parker myself.” He cocked his head, taking her in. “Stealing Cowboys Stadium and the United Center was bad enough. But the Staples Center?” He whistled. “That was a dagger to my heart.”

“I take it you’re a Lakers fan.”

“Born and bred in L.A.”

That certainly explained the theatrics. “I think I need to clarify a misunderstanding,” she said. “I’m part of a team at Sterling. My partners, Tony and Micah, were just as instrumental in landing those deals.”

“Not according to my contacts at the Cowboys, the United Center, and the Staples Center.” Palmer must’ve caught her look of surprise. “Oh? You think I didn’t call them to ask why we’d lost their business?”

“I’m sure they told you it’s because Sterling offers top-notch upscale hospitality service.”

“They mentioned something to that effect. But they also said that you are a very convincing woman, Ms. Parker.” He studied her. “It’s remarkable, really, what you’ve accomplished for that company in two years. I hope Ian Sterling appreciates that.”

“Ian Sterling appreciates it just fine.”

The edges of Palmer’s mouth curved in a smile. “You’re loyal to him. I respect that.”

“Thank you.” She checked her watch. “You’re down to three minutes, Mr. Green.”

“All right, I’ll get to the point,” he said, appearing undeterred by her directness. “I want you on my team. You’re smart, bold, and ambitious—and I’ve personally seen the fruits of that. You’ve stolen away three of my top clients in the past eighteen months, and now you’re going after a fourth. I either need to shut you down—which I don’t believe is possible—or get you to work your magic for
me.
”

He folded his hands on the table. “You want me to be even more blunt? You are a rising star in the business world, Brooke. But you have a problem. There’s nowhere for you to go at Sterling Restaurants. One man sits at the top—Ian Sterling. Think about that.”

Brooke sat quiet for a moment, digesting everything Palmer had said. Frankly, his speech had caught her off guard. Of course, she was aware that the company had been getting a lot of good press. But she’d had no idea that people like Palmer Green, CEO of a billion-dollar-plus corporation, were specifically paying attention to
her
.

“What do you envision me doing at Spectrum?” she asked cautiously.

“Executive vice president of sales and business development.”

Brooke blinked. She’d been thinking he planned to offer her an assistant general counsel position, but this was something else entirely.

“You seem surprised,” Palmer said.

“Actually. . . yes,” she admitted. “I’ve always considered myself a lawyer first, businesswoman second.”

“Once you take the position, I’d be happy to have the legal department send a few problems your way,” he joked. “But I think you’ll be busy enough.”

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

He leveled her with his gaze. “Very serious. I believe in striking while the iron is hot. I don’t know what’s driving you, and frankly, I don’t need to know. I just want to tap into it. So I think you need to ask yourself something: are you ready to step up to the big leagues?”

What popped into Brooke’s head right then was a similar meeting she’d had, two years ago, when Ian asked her to join Sterling Restaurants. She remembered the excitement and thrill she’d felt when first taking over as general counsel—feelings she still had to this day.

But she also remembered the promise she’d made to herself long ago: that she was going places.

“Just how big of a league are we talking?” she asked.

Palmer smiled, knowing that he had her attention now. “Seventy-five-thousand-dollar signing bonus. Three hundred thousand base salary, plus another one hundred and fifty thousand in stock via our equity incentive plan. You’ll also receive a bonus of one hundred percent of your base salary, assuming you bring in the kind of deals you’ve been landing at Sterling.”

After Brooke recovered from a split second of being absolutely dumbfounded,
she pulled herself together and quickly did some math. If she did her job well, which—
hello—
of course she would do her job well—Palmer was talking about a compensation package, for the first year alone, that totaled $825,000.

Wow.

“Also, we’ll obviously pay to relocate you to our headquarters in Charlotte,” Palmer added.

That snapped Brooke out of the green haze of dollar signs floating before her eyes.

Right. Of course. She would need to relocate for this job. All the way to North Carolina.

“That’s quite an offer, Palmer,” she said.

“Trust me, you’ll earn every penny. I won’t sugarcoat it—you come to Spectrum and you’ll work your butt off for me. I’m offering you a lucrative position, but also a demanding one. Lots of travel, schmoozing with clients, you know the drill. Although from what I hear, you’re already putting in long hours. At least I can pay you more for it.”

Certain parts of Palmer’s speech were buzzing around in Brooke’s head like annoying gnats.
Work your butt off. Demanding. Long hours
. She shook it off, remaining focused. “You’ve certainly given me a lot to think about.” She saw Palmer raise an eyebrow, as if waiting for more. She chuckled. “You don’t actually expect me to give you an answer on the spot, do you?”

He laughed. “No. Although I thought I had you for a minute there.” He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a business card. “Call me after you’ve had a chance to think everything through. What I’d like to do is fly you out to Charlotte to meet the other executive officers, get a feel for us, get to know Spectrum better. Not sure if you’re married or have kids, but the whole family is welcome. You could make a long weekend out of it and explore the city.”

Brooke shook her head. “No husband or kids. Just me.”

Palmer grinned confidently. “That makes things even easier, doesn’t it?”

Twenty-eight

“SO AS IT
turns out, your idea wasn’t totally lame.”

Cade looked at Zach, needing to squint in the noon sun. Belatedly, he realized he should’ve worn his sunglasses, although the decision to eat outside had been spur-of-the-moment.

They perched on one of the stone ledges in Daley Plaza, just a few feet away from the city’s iconic fifty-foot Picasso sculpture, eating burritos from a restaurant across the street. Zach was downtown for the afternoon—some errand to run, he’d said—so they’d agreed to meet. While walking to the burrito restaurant, they’d heard a blues band playing a lunchtime concert in the plaza, and had decided, along with many other Chicagoans, given the size of the crowd, to grab a seat for a few minutes and enjoy the eighty-degree weather.

“What idea?” Then he noticed Zach’s sneaky smile and remembered—the poetry book. “You talked to Paige, didn’t you?”

“Sure did,” he said slyly. “Got a date with her Friday, too.”

“Way to go,” Cade said, high-fiving him. “So? Tell me what happened.”

“I decided to tweak your original idea. Instead of giving
her
the book, I figured I would pretend to read it myself at her dad’s ice-cream shop, hoping that she would come up to me and ask about it.”

“Coward.”

“Ha. What you fail to understand is that, in this day and age, women
want
to take charge. So I was merely being supportive of Paige’s natural feminist instincts by giving her the tools and the opportunity to approach me first.”

“Nice try.”

Zach grinned, conceding. “Okay, fine. Maybe I wussed out. Anyway, it was really busy in the shop that day, and I was getting bored waiting for everyone else to clear out, so I figured I might as well actually
read
the book I was pretending to be reading. And, you know, there was some stuff in there that was pretty cool.”

Cade smiled at the kid’s surprised tone. “Imagine that.”

“So I’m reading some poem by Louise . . . something, I forget her last name, but it’s about Hades and the underworld, and I don’t even notice that Paige has come up to my table until she says, ‘Doesn’t everyone want love?’ And I’m thinking, wow, that’s a pretty deep question, but then again Paige is really smart, and this is my chance to finally show her that I’m not just a dumb jock. So
I
say, ‘I heard this theory once that love means your subconscious is attracted to someone else’s subconscious.’”