Bigger Than Beckham (42 page)

He blew out an exasperated breath. “Very
well. If you wish. Martha, Steam Train is prepared to table a new
offer if you’re prepared to get this done without any further
delay.”

“Well, you just table away, then,” Martha
said as she spun around in her chair to look out the window at the
Jacksonville skyline. “Heck, this is getting to be almost fun,
isn’t it?”

Not really, but she couldn’t resist yanking
Malone’s chain. She could hear frustration underlying every word
he’d said—frustration that the insignificant Martha Winston stood
in the way of a powerful CEO acquiring his new toy.

“Well, how much is it going to take?” he said
more sharply. “I gave you a number yesterday, so it’s your turn to
give me one back. That’s how negotiations work.”

Then he caught himself, softening his tone.
“What I mean to say, Martha, is that Steam Train is very serious
about finalizing this deal immediately. But it’s impossible to
negotiate with myself. I really do need you to give me something I
can work with.”

Martha had no intention of spending even one
minute negotiating with Malone, at least not before hearing what
Tony had to say when he arrived this afternoon. She was waiting for
that particular conversation with bated breath.

“It’s not going to work that way, Rance.
Sorry, but if you want to make another offer then go ahead whenever
you’re ready. I promise to consider it promptly, along with any
other proposals that might come my way.” She paused for effect.
“But you need to know that I may well not accept
any
offer
in the end.”

He gave a loud snort, his derision carrying
through the phone. “Seriously, Martha? You must be forgetting what
a box you’re in.”

“Ah, thank you so much for reminding me. I’ll
just say goodbye now, Rance.”

“Hold on,” Malone exclaimed in an almost
panicked voice. “All right, Martha. No more games. You want to hear
my offer? Fine, then, here it is. Steam Train is prepared to do
13.5 million for your team. That means 10.1 split between you and
Geoffrey, with the remaining 3.4 going to pay off your accumulated
debt.” He sucked in an audible breath. “Hell, you and I both know
that’s way more than we should be paying, all things considered.
But there it is.”

Despite his bluster, Malone’s new offer held
little surprise for Martha, other than possibly its timing. As soon
as she’d glimpsed the support that was already building for Tony in
the community, she’d figured Steam Train would be sharpening their
pencils and coming up with a preemptive bid to forestall whatever
Tony might decide to put before her. “That’s a firm offer, I take
it,” she said, “or does it self-destruct in an hour?”

“You can take it as firm. I can’t hold a gun
to your head to make you give us an answer, but I’d sure appreciate
a quick one. Like today.” Malone was breathing even more heavily
now. “Martha, no doubt you’re thinking you can get us involved in
some kind of a bidding war with Branch. But if that’s the case, you
need to know right now that it’s not going to work. I’ve given you
our best offer, and we’re not moving off it.”

“Right,” Martha said in a dubious voice.
“That’s certainly good to know, so thanks for the candor. Now, I’ve
got a question for you, Rance.”

“Sure. Shoot.”

Now was the perfect moment to hit him with
the big one. “My question to you—and it’s a critical one—is this.
If
I should decide to sell the team to somebody, I assure
you that money isn’t going to be the only issue.”

She paused to let him sweat over that salvo
before she laid her bottom line on him.

“Well, what else?” he asked impatiently.

“Here’s what else. I’ve got a wonderful team
of loyal folks in my office and in field management. Folks who’ve
worked their butts off for me and for my father before me. So,
Rance, whoever buys this team, if anybody does, is going to have to
agree to keep those people on. I want that written in ironclad
terms into any sale agreement.”

Martha didn’t hear a thump as Malone hit the
floor, so maybe he didn’t have the coronary she’d envisioned. While
she had no confidence that she could actually make her demand stick
with either Steam Train or Tony, she was going to fight for it
until the very end. Tony had already rejected her demand, at least
as far as the GM and field manager positions were concerned, so she
needed to hear what Malone might be prepared to do. If
anything.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Martha,” Malone snapped.
“Come on. You can’t expect to saddle new ownership with your
deadwood. Hell, I’m sorry but that’s just crazy.”

Deadwood? Well, I guess there’s my answer
in a single word
. “You don’t say? Well, crazy or not, it’s my
bottom line,” she retorted.

Malone didn’t say anything for a good ten
seconds.

“Okay, you’re saying you want 13.5 million
bucks, plus jobs for all your staff,” he finally muttered. “That’s
what it’s going to take to get this done?” Anxiety bled through his
tone, telling Martha how anxious the brewery was to get hold of the
Thunder.

She kept a firm hold on the surge of hope
that wanted to leap through her. “Let’s just say it would make your
offer a whole lot more interesting.”

“I don’t know,” he said dubiously. “I suppose
there might be a chance we could meet you part way on that. But
you’ll have to leave it with me for a little while. This isn’t some
small thing you’re asking, Martha. It’s just not done in my
world.”

Yeah, well, your world sucks.
“You’ve
got my number,” she cooed.

“Yes, I’ve got this one, but I don’t have
your cell number. That assistant of yours refused to give it to
me.”

Martha would still rather jump into a pit of
vipers than to sell to Steam Train, but she knew she’d be plain
foolish to slam the door in Malone’s face. Especially since he
hadn’t ruled out her final demand. “Got a pen handy, Rance?”

* * *

Before heading home to meet Nate for lunch,
Martha skimmed a batch of newspapers along with some Internet
sites. Most articles and columns reproduced the wire stories she’d
already looked at. Steam Train was generally portrayed as a heavy
hitter in terms of ability to pay, while Tony Branch’s involvement
was characterized as a bold, exciting British invasion. SportsNet
and a handful of Florida papers had expressed enthusiasm about
Steam Train, extolling the brewery as a solid Florida-based company
with deep roots in Jacksonville and other communities, as well as
in Georgia and Alabama. Everywhere, Martha herself had been
depicted as a well-meaning but essentially hapless owner who had,
if anything, accelerated the Thunder’s precipitous decline into
soccer ignominy.

While it made her gut churn, the portrayals
weren’t entirely at odds with the way she saw herself these
days.

Nate had called early that morning as he was
leaving Philadelphia to say his flight plan had him landing at
Craig Airport around twelve-thirty. So, just before noon, Martha
ordered takeout burgers, fries and mixed green salads from a diner
on Beach Boulevard that was locally famous for thick, juicy burgers
made from organic beef. Nate phoned from Craig just as she picked
the food up, estimating that he’d be at her place in fifteen
minutes. She made it home in ten, with the burgers and fries still
good and hot in their cardboard containers.

After she stowed the burgers and fries in the
oven to keep warm, she did a quick set of the kitchen table and
pulled together a pitcher of iced tea. Everything was now ready for
Nate’s arrival. In fact, she kept impatiently checking her watch,
eager for her buddy to show. She wasn’t too proud to admit that she
desperately needed someone right now who would be totally
trustworthy and on her side, and Nate sure fit the bill.

When the doorbell rang, Martha practically
ran across the foyer to greet him.

“Hey, kiddo.” Nate swept her into a giant
hug. “How is it humanly possible for you to look sexier every time
I lay eyes on you?” He glanced at her backside. “I mean, that ass
of yours is totally to die for. Almost as good as Holly’s, in
fact.”

Martha gave him a good-natured swat on the
arm as she stepped out of his embrace. He always ragged her about
being the sexiest thing Georgia had ever produced, and she usually
gave him a shot right back. They both knew the banter was total
crap, but today she just wanted to bask in his affectionate
ribbing.

“If you ever stop talking about my ass,
Carter, I’ll know I’m getting close to ready for the old folks’
home,” she said with a grin.

“Never gonna happen,” he said.

Martha took his lightweight, brown leather
jacket. As always, she gave a little snort at the sight of his
tattoo, only partly visible under his short-sleeved tee shirt. Of
course, she’d seen the rest of the ink many times—a fierce-looking
tornado sucking a tiny batter into its vortex, a reference to his
awesome pitching skills. On anyone else it might have looked a
little silly, but on Nate’s tall, brawny frame it had always seemed
entirely appropriate.

“Burgers, fries and salad for lunch,” she
said, hanging his jacket up in the hall closet. “Not homemade, I’m
sorry to say, but still your favorites.”

“Ah, comfort food. Bring it on, babe.”

While Nate went to wash up, Martha arranged
the food onto plates and set them on the table along with the iced
tea. She had no qualms about serving her friend such a basic,
no-fuss meal. He was a no fuss kind of guy, and usually ordered in
pizza when he invited her to his apartment.

When they sat down, Nate shot her an
assessing look. “Your team made the news in Philly, pal, and I
gotta say it surprised the hell out of me. A fight between a
brewery and Tony Branch, of all people. Who’d have believed it?” He
reached for the pitcher and poured iced tea into their glasses.

“Knocked me right off my pins,” Martha
replied, trying for a wry smile. From the sympathetic look that
appeared in his dark eyes, she was sure it came off as a
grimace.

“No kidding. I know you don’t want to sell,
and I understand about the promise you made your dad, but does this
change things? The competition, I mean.”

Martha gave a gloomy shrug. “I’ve only got
one actual offer so far, from Steam Train, though I’m no doubt
going to get one from Branch when we meet this afternoon.” That was
true, since Tony had never talked numbers up to now. “I don’t want
to have to sell, but with the line of credit snatched away…” She
didn’t finish the sentence.

Nate reached across and gave her hand a
squeeze. “Look, on that note, Holly and I had a long talk about
this situation. We want to do whatever we can to help you get
through this crunch. So, you need to tell me how much cash you need
to keep the wolves away from your door until the season is over.”
Then, as if he hadn’t just dumped a mind-boggling sentence on her,
he opened his burger and slapped a huge glob of mustard on the top
half of the bun.

Martha froze, her burger halfway to her
mouth. She’d certainly expected Nate to provide a comforting
shoulder and some much-needed cheer, but it had never crossed her
mind that he might actually offer her
money
.

“God, Nate,” she managed, dropping her burger
onto her plate. “We’re talking millions, and that’s just to be able
to keep paying the players and staff. On top of that there’s the
bank loan and a bunch of other payables.”

He snorted. “The number doesn’t matter. The
kind of money we’re talking about here, hell, I can cover something
like that with no sweat,” He spread a white sheet of mayo onto the
already loaded burger. “You know how much they pay me to do those
crazy after-shave and body wash commercials? Well, Holly and I
can’t think of a better way to use some of that money than to help
out our best friend in time of need.”

He bit off a huge mouthful while she gaped at
him. “It’s not like you wouldn’t do the same for Holly and me if we
were in trouble,” he said after he swallowed.

Martha was well aware of the enormous salary
the Patriots were shelling out to Nate under his latest
mega-contract, as well as the tens of millions he earned through
lucrative product endorsements. Hell, if he wanted to, he could buy
her team outright without stressing his investment portfolio.

But while she had nothing in principle
against accepting financial help from a dear friend, under these
particular circumstances she had to say no.

“I could never ask for better friends than
you and Holly,” Martha finally managed past the lump in her throat.
“And I can’t tell you how much it means to me to hear you say
that.”

“Great. Problem solved,” Nate said before
taking another big chomp.

Martha gave him a regretful smile. Nate had a
way of trying to turn even the most serious challenges into
easily-navigated bumps in the road of life. And he usually
succeeded through a combination of brains, brawn, and sheer
bull-headedness.

“I’m afraid not, hon. Think about it for a
minute. The only way I would agree to even
think
about
accepting that kind of monster loan from you would be if I was one
hundred and ten per cent sure I’d be able to pay it back. But,
frankly, right now I’m not even ten per cent sure I could. Turning
the team around at this point is a real long shot, to be brutally
honest.”

Nate shrugged as he put the burger down.
“Maybe. Maybe not. But you’ll never know unless you try. And, hey,
if I do wind up taking a bath on the investment, at least I’ll get
a sweet tax write-off.”

“Don’t you dare try to make this sound as if
it’s no big deal, Nate Carter,” Martha scolded, wagging a finger.
“You know very well I couldn’t live with myself if I wound up
costing you and Holly millions of dollars. Not a chance in hell
that’s going to happen. But thank you from the bottom of my heart
for your incredible generosity. I swear I’ll never forget it as
long as I live.” She paused as her throat started to tighten. “Hey,
we’d better focus on demolishing these delicious burgers before
they get any colder, okay?”