She smiled as the conversation continued.
“No.”
“Don’t know.”
“Next question.”
“Next question.”
“Still, with that?”
“I’m going into the office tomorrow. How about lunch at The Shore at noon?”
“I’ll keep that in mind. What are you up to tonight?”
“Is that the blonde who sounds like a goat when she orgasms, or the chick who makes you talk dirty in a Scottish accent?” She chuckled. “Good luck with that one. See you tomorrow.”
She hung up and set the phone aside before turning back to Cade. “Sorry about that.”
“I’ll go out on a limb here. Ford?”
She nodded, turning back to her cookie. “Yep.”
Cade waited for her to elaborate.
She didn’t.
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you two aren’t—”
“Positive.”
“And all this time, you never—”
“Not once.” She waved casually at him. “You should understand. You just told me that you’re friends with that Rylann woman. I assume you’re not sleeping with her?”
“That Rylann woman doesn’t call me at ten o’clock on a Friday night.”
“Are you getting ornery again?”
“If I say yes, do I get another blow job?”
She laughed at that, blushing a little. “Nice try.”
Cade found that blush even cuter than the pink pajamas and Chips Ahoy! cookies. “Had to give it a shot.”
She smiled, and then went quiet for a moment. “Ford and I lived in the same neighborhood growing up. He . . . didn’t like being at home very much, so my parents took him in whenever he wanted. He’s basically like family.”
Her expression said there was a lot more to that story, but since she didn’t offer anything further, Cade didn’t ask.
She cocked her head, clearly looking to change the subject. “Do you really want to spend the whole night talking about Ford?”
“Not really.” And based on what she’d just said, he already felt more comfortable with their relationship, anyway. Not that he had any claim on Brooke or anything. Pfft.
“Good.” Brooke set down the bag of cookies and climbed over to straddle Cade’s lap. Her voice was throaty and coy. “Maybe we can find something else to occupy our time, then.”
“Scrabble?”
With a smile, she lowered her head and kissed him.
This was how it should be, Cade thought, sliding his hands under her tank top and caressing the bare skin of her lower back. Two people, having a good time and keeping everything right at the surface.
No need to go diving down into the deeper, murkier waters below.
Twenty
ON TUESDAY, IAN dropped by Brooke’s office after she’d gotten back from the day’s EEO training session. He appeared extremely pleased.
“I got your message about the meeting with Curt Emery.” He gave her an approving nod. “Nice job.”
“I wouldn’t get too excited yet. It’s a long shot,” Brooke cautioned him. Although, yes, she was kicking ass and taking names these days. In addition to finalizing all the employment and service agreements for the Staples Center, and overseeing the anti-harassment training sessions at the restaurants, she had, in her few free minutes, taken it upon herself to call Curt Emery, the director of food service of the Chicago Bears, and left a message asking for the opportunity to meet with him to talk about Sterling Restaurants’ sports and entertainment division.
He’d shocked her by calling back that morning to say yes.
Brooke had done her research, so she knew what she was up against. For the last fifteen years, Spectrum Group—the world’s largest contract food service provider—had been in business with Soldier Field, home of the Chicago Bears. Spectrum’s North American division alone had revenues of nearly eleven billion dollars the previous year, providing food service management for everything from corporate cafés, college and university cafeterias, special events catering like the U.S. Open, and sports and entertainment arenas.
As it so happened, over the last two years, Brooke—along with Micah and Tony, the other two members of Ian’s “dream team”—had snagged three of Spectrum North America’s largest sports clients: Cowboys Stadium, the United Center, and the Staples Center. And while Sterling still didn’t hold a candle in either size or revenue to the Goliath corporation that was Spectrum, Brooke had no doubt that people were paying attention.
Now that Sterling had contracts with both the Chicago Cubs and Bulls, it made sense for her to pitch to the city’s football team, too. She’d heard through the grapevine that the Bears’ relationship with Spectrum had started via a personal connection—somebody at Spectrum played golf with the cousin of one of the Bears’ corporate directors or something—but she had no idea whether that personal relationship still existed, or whether Curt Emery, director of food service, might be willing to consider other options.
Only one way to find out.
Ian took a seat in front of her desk, stretching out comfortably. “What do you make of the fact that Emery asked to meet only with you?”
Brooke had initially paused over that as well. When the Bears’ director had left his message, he’d specifically said he was willing to meet with her, but only her. Then again, it wasn’t unusual for her, Micah, or Tony to take meetings alone—particularly when first meeting a potential new client. “I’m guessing it means that the Bears have another year, maybe two, left on their contract with Spectrum. So while Emery may be interested in making a change down the road, he wants to keep this preliminary meet and greet casual.”