Chapter Nine
Dax
Having secured a date with Payton, the week dragged as I sorted through business emails, attended meetings, and fielded phone calls from the press about when I would be naming my new GM. I gave them vague answers about the timeline, and hoped that I’d have some worthy candidates to interview within the next few days.
I resisted the urge to call Payton again knowing that if I was going to maneuver my way into a relationship with her, it was essential that I not appear to eager. I’d learned these rules from the girls I’d grown up with and while the rules seemed idiotic, I knew that in order to get what I wanted, I had to play the game. So, I maintained radio silence.
On Friday morning, I leaned back from my desk and stretched out. I’d been working for hours on identifying possible partners for the talent management firm and was stiff from hunching over the computer. I looked up at the clock and realized it was well past noon. I quickly calculated the time between now and when I was to pick up Payton for our date, and realized I had more than enough time to fit in a run along the lakeshore and get rid of some of the pre-date jitters I’d been feeling. I went into my bedroom, pulled on some shorts, and laced up my shoes before pulling a visor down low on my forehead.
In other cities, I’d always felt like I was under a microscope 24/7, and in L.A. it had led to some unpleasant encounters with fans and the paparazzi. Finn thrived on the whirring buzz of constant attention and the adulation that never ended, but I’d grown weary of it rather quickly and found myself irritated and annoyed whenever we’d have to be out in public. It didn’t help that when I felt trapped, my temper flared. One time, my anger had boiled over and I’d come close to punching a photographer who got a little too close for my liking. As usual, Finn ran interference, and by the time he was done smooth-talking the photographer, it was like nothing had happened.
In Chicago, people tended to mind their own business and leave others alone — even when they were well known. As a result, I felt comfortable slipping out of my penthouse and blending into the crowds that lined the running path along the lake. The feel of the wind on my face and the smell of the water soothed me as I settled into a smooth pace and headed south toward Foster Beach.
As I ran, I thought about Payton. I’d read everything my team had been able to gather together in short notice, and found out more about her than I’d anticipated. Her background showed that she’d been hard at work developing the skills that would serve her well in the position. I liked the idea that she was actually interested in sports because for as much as I didn’t relish the job of running the Storm, I did love the competition, and dating someone who couldn’t share in that love would make the process incredibly tedious.
I shifted gears as my feet pounded the pavement, and thought about who the likely candidates would be for the next general manager. I knew Nick Wilcox, the Storm’s head coach, would want to have a say in picking the GM, but while I liked him as a coach, I felt like he was too emotional and didn’t think he had a very good sense of how to manage a business from the top down, so I ignored his advice when it conflicted with my own intuition. He and I had had our disagreements, but he knew his place. There were a number of guys I wanted to talk with, but since the next draft was half a year away, I wasn’t in any rush.
I reached Foster Beach and stopped to stretch a bit on a berm that overlooked the lake. Payton seemed like a woman who knew what she wanted, and wasn’t afraid to tackle a challenge, and after the bathroom encounter at Black Jack, I knew she had plenty of her own fish to fry. I just hoped that I could entice her to help me fry mine, too,
I lay there on the ground looking up at the sky, feeling the familiar tingling sensation I got when I was about to gamble big and win, and I smiled. I pushed myself up off of the ground, broke into a run, and headed back to the penthouse. I felt confident that tonight’s date would be the solution to many of my problems, and that getting Payton to fall for me would be easy so long as I played it cool and didn’t push too hard.
I repeated this to myself as I showered, shaved, and dressed to impress. I chose a casual look, pulling on a navy Gucci jacket over an Armani t-shirt and jeans that had been put together by a personal shopper whom I’d hired to keep me looking up-to-date, but not stuffy or overdone. Fashion did not interest me in the least, but I knew that as someone who was in the public eye on a regular basis, my look was sometimes the only message I gave.
I ran a hand through my dark curls and sighed as I realized there was no way to truly tame them, so it was best to just let them be. My stylist had been trying to convince me to get a buzz cut, but I rebuffed her on the grounds that I didn’t want to look like any of the players or coaches. She’d laughed and then rolled her eyes as she carefully trimmed the wild mop into something suitable for the owner of an NFL franchise.
There was less than an hour before I was due to pick Payton up, and I was surprised to find I was feeling a little nervous. Women like Payton had always made me feel a little defensive. They were rich girls who’d grown up surrounded by luxury, had fathers who adored them, and people who catered to their every whim. I’d grown up comfortable, but far from rich, and the differences in upbringings was never more apparent than on a first date. I consoled myself with the fact that this wasn’t a typical date. Sure, she’d cornered me in the bathroom and definitely gotten a rise out of me when she’d run her hands over my bare skin, and the way her lips had felt on mine had given me fuel for private fantasies in the shower, but I needed her to help me achieve a goal. I was keeping my eyes on the prize.
By the time I was on my way down to the car, I had convinced myself that Finn had been absolutely right. Landing Payton Halas Lasky as my next girlfriend would be the first step in solving my problems.