Sheryl Lister - Places In My Heart

“Things aren’t always as they seem.”

She sat up straight. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying it’s time for a change, and I’d like you to negotiate my upcoming contract. You’re an attorney and, according to your brother, you know football like you’ve played it all your life.”

Her eyes lit up and her mouth fell open. “Are you serious? Wait a minute.” She sat back again and angled her head. “What about your current agent? Did he dump you or something?”

Omar sighed. “No.” There was more to it, but he would only tell her if she agreed to represent him.

Morgan narrowed her eyes. “There are dozens of sports agents out there, and I’m certain any one of them would be happy to take you on, especially with your numbers from last year. Yet you’re in my office.”

He smiled. “You checked my stats? So, you’re admitting I’ve got game?”

A rush of color darkened her face. “Why me?” she asked, ignoring his questions.

“You want to be an agent, and I need one.” He leaned forward and whispered, “And I know you passed the sport’s agent certification test. It’s a win-win situation for both of us.”

“On second thought, I am going to kill Malcolm,” she muttered.

“I need your help, Morgan. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“I have to think about this.” She turned slightly in her chair and stared out the window, and then back at him. “You realize I already have a job. And I’m working on a case.”

Omar nodded. “I understand, and I have no problems working around your schedule.”

“Even on weekends or late evenings.”

“Anytime.”

“I see.” She went back to staring out the window.

He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. She bit down on her lip, drawing his attention and reminding him how much he enjoyed kissing her.

Finally she angled her head his direction. “I’ll agree on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You keep your hands and lips to yourself. No more kisses.”

Omar groaned inwardly. There was no way he could go without kissing her. In fact, it had been the first thing on his mind from the moment he saw her today. “Morgan—”

“No. More. Kisses,” she repeated.

At this point, he needed her expertise more, he told himself. Not having any other choice, he said, “Fine.”

“Good. Then I’ll draw up the necessary documents, and we’ll meet so you can sign.” Morgan picked up a business card, scribbled something on it and handed it to him.

A measure of relief spread throughout his chest. “There’s one other thing,” he added hesitantly, reaching for the card.

“What’s that?”

Rather than give her an extensive explanation up front, he handed her a large envelope.

She took the envelope and removed four stapled sets of papers. She skimmed the documents and frowned. “Two of your endorsement contracts?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you have two copies of each one?”

“Go to the flagged pages and you’ll see.”

Morgan flipped to the pages and compared the two contracts. She did the same with the second contract, and he saw the moment comprehension dawned. She lifted her head. “Are you telling me your agent...?”

He nodded. “I need you to represent me—”

She held up a hand. “No. I can’t do both. That would be a conflict of interest.”

Omar’s jaw tightened. “I don’t care. I need someone who’s not affiliated with the league to handle this.”

Morgan ran a hand through her long curls and sighed impatiently. “Look, Omar. I’ll be happy to work with you on your contract, but I cannot represent you in a lawsuit against your current agent. Do you know what people would say? They’d think I was trying to get rid of him for my own purposes. And since my big-mouth brother told you about my desire to be in sports management, you have to know this would kill the slim chance I’d have.”

He blew out a long breath. “I know, and I’m sorry. You’re probably wondering why, with all the money I’ve made, would I be concerned about a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.” If his hunch was correct, that dollar figure would increase significantly.

“I’m not wondering at all. It’s your money. You earned it, and no one has a right to take it from you. What about Marcus Dupree’s brother, Jaedon? I heard he and another guy opened a law firm a year ago. And from what I understand, he’s ruthless in the courtroom.”

Omar had met Jaedon and chatted with him a few times, but because Jaedon handled Marcus’s contract, Omar assumed the man was just another sports agent. “He’s not a sports agent?”

“No. He worked at a prestigious firm at one time, but after winning some big case, he decided to strike out on his own.”

“Maybe I’ll look him up.” He pushed to his feet. “I appreciate you not tossing me out on my butt and hearing me out.”

Morgan stood, extended her hand and chuckled. “Yeah, well, you caught me on a good day.”

Something about the way she smiled made his heart beat a little faster, and the one thing he wanted to do, he couldn’t. He’d made a promise. “Thanks, Morgan. Let me know when and where you want to meet.”

Morgan looked at her watch. “I will.”

“I’m sorry. Am I keeping you from something?” It had never occurred to him that she might have a boyfriend. And he didn’t like the idea one bit.

“It’s fine. I’m just meeting my friend Brooke. I’ll send her a text to let her know I’ll be a few minutes late.”

Omar should not have been so happy to hear she didn’t have a date, but he was. “If you’re leaving, I’ll walk you down to the garage.” She seemed to weigh her options. Even though they had been focused on business, the heat between them still simmered, and being alone in an elevator might not be the best choice. For either of them. But he didn’t care. “It looked like everyone was leaving when I arrived, and I’d rather you not walk down alone.”

“Fine. Just give me a minute.”

He waited as she shut down her laptop and then stuffed it along with several file folders into a bag.

She glanced over her desk once more. “All right, I’m ready.” She slung the bag over her shoulder, then a purse she’d pulled from the drawer, and came around the desk. “Oh, wait. I need to send Brooke a text.” Morgan dug out her cell phone and typed something quickly, her fingers moving rapidly on the screen. When she was done, she dropped it back into her purse. “Okay. Let’s go.”

The outer office was quiet when they passed through and, thankfully, the secretary was gone. Neither spoke as they walked down the hallway, boarded the elevator and rode it to the ground level.

Omar followed Morgan to her car and let out a long whistle. “Muscle car,” he said of the Dodge Challenger. “Reminds me of Dom Toretto’s car in the Fast & Furious movies.”

Morgan laughed. “I’ve always loved fast cars and motorcycles, and this right here,” she said, running her hand across the car’s black matte finish, “is my baby.” She slanted him a look. “You have a problem with women driving fast cars?”

The tone of her voice gave him pause. It was as if she had faced disapproval for her choice in car. “Not at all. I admire a woman who knows what she wants and goes after it, no matter what anyone else thinks.” She unlocked the door by remote, and he opened and held it while she got in. “Give me a call when you’re ready to go over the contract.”

“I will. See you later.”

He waved as she drove past him. There was something downright sexy about a woman in a fast car. It made him curious about what else she liked. Cutting off his train of thought, he reminded himself about their agreement. He could make it. It was only a few weeks. But after the contract negotiations, he planned to do his best to show her that they would be good together, professionally and personally.