Love Irresistibly (FBI/US Attorney #4)(57)
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.”
“Regardless, it’s a great first step,” Ian said. “When’s the meeting?”
“Two weeks from Monday. At the Bears’ corporate office up in Lake Forest.”
“Ooh, you get to hang out at Halas Hall. Very cool.” Ian rested his hands behind his head. “I’m already picturing myself in the Sterling luxury suite at Soldier Field, right above the fifty-yard line.”
Both the lawyer and pragmatic woman in Brooke felt the need to manage her CEO’s expectations. “You’re getting way ahead of yourself here, Ian. In fact, I think you just lapped yourself.”
“A man can dream, Brooke.”
She chuckled. “Who are you kidding? You barely use our suites at Wrigley Field and the United Center.”
He waved this off. “Yeah, but football’s different. If we get this deal with the Bears, you better believe my butt will be at Soldier Field for every home game.” He saw her fighting back a grin. “What?”
“I just wonder what it is about men and football,” Brooke said. Sure, because of her job she could hold her own when it came to talking sports, but—wow—had her eyes been opened when she’d been down in Dallas, negotiating the Cowboys deal. Those men didn’t just love football, they lived football. “Is it a warrior-metaphor kind of thing? The idea that the strongest, toughest men of the region strap on their armor and step onto the battlefield to face off against the strongest, toughest opponents?”
“As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what it is.”
“I see. And remind me: in what century did it become customary for one’s army to be attended at the battle ground by hot girls with spanky pants and pom-poms? Was that a tradition Napoleon started?” Brooke pretended to muse. “Or maybe it was Genghis Khan.”
“You scoff at America’s sport. I have fired people for less.”
Brooke threw Ian a get-real look. “No, you haven’t. You don’t fire anyone without trotting down to my office and asking me first whether you’ll get sued. And then I’m always the one that has to fire them, anyway.”
“Because you do it with such charm,” Ian said with a grin. He knew she spoke the truth. “You know I’d never get by without you, right?”
“You remember that the next time I’m up for a raise and I hand you another sixteen-page report with charts and graphs.”
“I can hardly wait.” With a wink, Ian got up from the chair to leave. He paused in the doorway, and then turned back to her with a thoughtful expression. “It’s because it reminds me of some of the best moments I’ve had with my father.”
Brooke cocked her head, not following. “I’m sorry?”
“You asked what it is about football,” he explained. “I knew I was g*y by the time I was thirteen. And so did my father. But that wasn’t something we could talk about back then. In fact, for about five years, we didn’t talk much at all. But for three hours every Sunday, while watching a game, we could hang out and yell and cheer and just be a father and son again.” He paused, with a slight smile at the memory. “I don’t know about other men, but that’s what football means to me.”