“That was my business partner,” I explain. “I need to call him back real quick.”
“Okay, while you do that, I’ll take a shower and get into bed to wait for round two.” Iris winks. “I swear I won’t fall asleep this time.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“After my call, we’ll order room service.”
“Yummy. Will you make me one of your famous rum punches, too?”
“You bet, baby.”
Iris bats her eyelashes as she saunters toward the bedroom. “See you soon,baby. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”
As I watch her beautiful ass swish, swish, swish out of the room and disappear, I’m smiling so damned hard, my cheeks hurt. What is it about that woman that makes me feel so damned drugged? I can’t remember the last time I felt like this, if ever. Even in the midst of one of the most stressful times of my life, I feel like a carefree kid when I’m around Iris. I feel light as a feather. Giddy, like a school kid with a crush.
A goofy smile still plastered on my face, I throw on my clothes from the floor and head to the kitchen first, figuring I’ll make my girl that cocktail before heading outside to return Cam’s call—but there’s no ice in the small freezer.
“I’ll be right back, baby!” I call to her. “I’m going out to grab some ice!”
With my phone in one hand and the ice bucket in the other, I head outside into the warm night to search for an ice machine while talking to Cameron. Before I press the button to place my call, however, a group of young dudes passing by loses their shit at the sight of me.
“Roman Maguire!” one of them shouts. “Holy shit! I’ve got you on my fantasy team!”
“Hey, guys.”
“Are you gonna re-sign with the Crusaders?” one of them asks. “I heard a rumor you’re shopping for a new team.”
“Never listen to rumors.”
They ask for selfies, and I oblige them, even though I can’t wait to get away.
To my frustration, one of them begs me to sign his T-shirt before I go, so I wait for him to scurry into his nearby bungalow for a pen, and when he returns, I wind up signing not only his T-shirt, but everyone else’s, too—plus a few hats.
Finally, however, I’m able to break free without coming off like a complete dick, at which point I head down to the beach to make that call to Cameron. As I walk toward the entrance to the sandy beach, I listen to Cameron’s voicemail, but all he says is “Call me ASAP!” Once I’ve made it onto the sand, I walk a short ways, find myself a dark, secluded spot, and plop myself down.
“Hey, Roman,” Cameron says in greeting.
“What’s up?”
“The Thunderbolts said if you can convince Coach to come with you, they’ll one hundred percent be able to meet your salary demands. They’d do a three-year deal worth two hundred mill total: a hundred-fifty in salary and another fifty in bonuses and incentives. But that’s only the deal if Coach comes with you.”
“I’m worth that on my own.”
“I agree, but they think you’re worth one-fifty total on your own. They figure they’ll sell tons more season tix and merch if they market the hell out of your legendary partnership. ‘Coach Hardy and Roman Maguire, together again!’”
They’re not wrong about that, but Cameron knows I want two hundred mill, whether Coach comes with me or not.
“Between you and me,” Cameron continues, “I can’t argue withtheir logic. You in a Thunderbolts jersey will send shockwaves throughout the league. But youandCoach together again? That’d be a nuclear bomb.”
I kick off my flip-flops and burrow my feet into the sand. “I’m worth two hundred mill, no matter what. If they can’t meet my salary demands, they’ll need to get there with more cheese on the back end in bonuses.”
“It’s just a question of the funding they can pull together. It’s all about crunching the numbers and making sure they’ve got money for other players, too. You know that.”
I know it, yeah. But I don’t really care about the salary cap all that much. That’s their problem, not mine. I’ve earned a record-breaking contract, if you ask me.
“Listen, Romie,” Cameron says. “I know you’re hell-bent on LA, but Arizona called me today and said they could do two-twenty-five to get you. They can’t wait too long to close something, though. They need to lock down their number-one QB, ASAP.”
