Chapter 7
Gage rubbed the back of his neck and leaned back in his chair. He looked across his desk strewn with the pages of the agreement for the show he’d yet to sign and sighed. “Can we compromise on a few things?”
Charlie, executive producer of the upcoming documentary and a familiar face from Gage’s professional football days grinned from his seat on the other side of Gage’s desk. “Perhaps. This is your show and I want you to be happy. Can’t have the star of the show scowling all the time on camera. Wouldn’t be good for the ratings. What is it you want to change?”
“Can we cut back on where and when the crew films me? One of the main reasons for my retirement from professional ball was to spend more time with my son out of the limelight. I just want to have a little bit of a normal life for once without a camera following me around all hours of the day and night.” Gage grimaced as a frown appeared on Charlie’s face.
“We’re already pressed for time and in case I neglected to mention it, we are going to be filming one week and airing the next. The episodes will mostly be unedited except to shorten them for the time frame. I’m hoping your fans will be excited to see your transition from a professional player to high school football coach in real time rather than filming then airing months from now when interest has waned. What exactly are you proposing? I’m not sure I can accommodate you if it interferes with the schedule,” Charlie asked, his friendly demeanor gone as he sat up on the edge of his chair.
“I guess what I’m asking is can we keep it strictly to the football aspect? The public doesn’t need to see every little thing. I don’t want the film crew behind me wherever I go. Since my son attends school here, there will be times when I’ll need to meet with his teachers and attend school functions. Those kinds of things aren’t something I’m comfortable with letting the public in on at this point. Jonathan had a hard time after his mother and his almost step-father died, and I’d like to give him a little bit of normalcy for a while,” Gage answered as he met Charlie’s glare with one of his own. But to his surprise a flash of sympathy crossed the producer’s eyes.
“Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse? I have kids of my own, so I understand. So how about we limit the filming to only the times you’re with the team here at the school and then of course the games? But I have one condition,” Charlie paused, the tips of his mouth turned up in a sly grin.
“What?” Gage groaned, dreading whatever the wily producer might have up his sleeve.
“You agree to a couple of specials after football is over where your fans can see more of your personal life.”
Gage scowled at the smug-faced producer but knew this was probably the best deal he was going to get out of the whole mess. “All right, since I don’t seem to have much choice.”
“Don’t worry, Gage. I’ll take it easy on you. Just want the fans to be happy,” Charlie replied as he stood and gathered the pages of the agreement from the top of the desk. “Let me take these and get them rewritten. I’ll have them back to you in a day or two for your signature. Are we good?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Thanks for understanding, man,” Gage said as he walked around his desk to see Charlie to the door, relieved to have his worries about the show taken care of which put him one step closer to having more time for his personal life. He couldn’t get a certain teacher out of his head and as soon as he had a few more things taken care of as the head coach he fully intended to ask her out on a date.