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She couldn’t figure out which part was worse. Nor could she figure out any way out of it. Not while they had to beat Will Sutter.
After the long flight back from Kansas City, where they had met with another of the undecided owners, they had returned home discouraged. Lucas had left them at the airport, heading to the hospital and his patients, and Mal had sped off into the night on his motorbike.
Which left her and Alex alone in the car together while the driver ferried them back to Manhattan.
Whatever Will was telling the owners, it seemed to be working.
Alex sat beside her, his legs carefully not touching hers. Of all of them, he looked the least tired, but the line of his body, slumped against the seat of the car, told her he was just as exhausted as she was.
The vote was only four days away. And at this point, Maggie was starting to think they were going to need the help of an actual saint to order them up some divine intervention to have any chance of the deal being approved.
Think.
Will was obviously doing something right. Turning the owners against Alex. Though they hadn’t yet been able to wrangle what exactly he might be saying out of any of them.
So maybe it was time to stop doing things the sensible business way and try to hit Will right where he was trying to hit them. In his reputation. His credibility.
Will might have private detectives and paparazzi at his beck and call but she had one thing that he didn’t.
She nudged Alex with her knee. “Hey, I have an idea.”
Shelly and Hana came, as she’d requested, armed with laptops and phones.
“What’s this about?” Shelly asked as they set up their gear on Maggie’s dining table.
“Will Sutter,” Maggie said.
“We guessed that much,” Hana said. “What exactly about him?”
“We’ve been working the owners, and we’re close but not over the line yet. It’s way too close to call.”
“I’m not sure how much we can help with that,” Hana said. “Most of us who want to stay in New York have been working on the guys, but these days that doesn’t mean as much as it used to.”
True. Players were supposed to go where they were sent and earn their money, not mess around with the management of the team. “I know. And we appreciate it. But I have another idea.”
“What?” Shelly asked as she typed her password into her laptop. “And what’s your Wi-Fi password?”
“Right now it’s the last four digits of your home phone number and the same from Hana’s cell.”
Shelly shook her head. “You should use symbols and things.”
“We don’t have time for a lecture on Internet security, Shell.” Shelly guarded her laptop and phone as closely as a CIA agent. Which, given the amount of dirt she probably had stored on it, made a lot of sense.
“So what’s the grand plan?” Hana asked.
“I’m going to get Will to drop his bid,” Maggie said.
Both of them stared at her as though she’d lost her mind.
“O-kay,” Hana said slowly. “And while you still have your newfound magic powers, can you make me three inches taller, please?”
Maggie stuck out her tongue at her. “No magic involved. Just a little bit of old-fashioned business hardball.”
“Hardball?” Shelly repeated.
“I’m going to go talk to Mama Sutter,” Maggie said.
Shelly’s brows flew upward, then settled as her expression turned thoughtful. “You’re going to throw yourself on Corinne Sutter’s mercy? You’re a brave woman.”
