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Given Will had ordered an egg-white omelet, black coffee, and grapefruit, Maggie couldn’t really see what being Texan had to do with it, but she shrugged and nodded. “All right. You said you wanted to talk. So talk.”
“You don’t want to eat first?”
“Talk,” she said flatly. She’d ordered coffee and wheat toast. Right now, she felt like she’d probably choke on the toast, so she stuck to the coffee.
“A woman who gets right down to it. I like that.”
“I’m flattered,” she said, not meaning it. “Talk, Sutter.” She glanced down at her watch. “Because in about forty-five minutes I’m walking out the door.”
Will eased back against the booth, studied her a moment, twisting the heavy ring on his left index finger. The thing was a monstrosity, flashier than any World Series ring, with a W set out in diamonds. “Well, it’s like this,” he said. “I want you to come work for me.”
Maggie was thankful she’d finished her coffee. Or she would’ve spat it across the table. “I have a job.”
“Really?” Sutter said. “What exactly does Winters have you doing over there? Other than trotting you out for press conferences?”
“What I do isn’t any of your business,” Maggie said.
“I think it is. Because I’m guessing that what you’re doing isn’t exactly what you would’ve been doing if Tom was still running the show. I’m thinking you’ve gotta be pretty pissed at that fact. I’m thinking that you’re a woman with a very expensive education and a lifetime of experience with baseball that money can’t buy who’s been sidelined by a bunch of guys who don’t have a quarter of your pedigree.”
“Then you’re thinking wrong.”
He looked disbelieving. “If you say so. But what are you going to be doing for Alex once he’s got the team? Other than keeping him … entertained.”
“I think that comment pretty much sums up why working for you isn’t high on my list of priorities, Will,” she said, seeing red.
“I apologize for talking plainly about this, Maggie, but you see, I had something a bit more in line with your talents in mind.”
“Oh really. Like what?”
“I was thinking you could come on board as CEO.”
Holy shit. “Excuse me?”
“Wasn’t that the plan with you and Tom? That he was going to step down and you’d take over?”
“Well, yes. But not for a few years.”
Will shrugged. “You’ve got the knowledge you need. You can hire whoever you want to help you out while you find your feet.”
Run the Saints? Her ears were buzzing, making it hard to focus on what Will was saying. He wanted her to run the Saints? “Why me?”
“Because you’re the right woman for the job,” he said. “I don’t have time to be as hands-on as Tom was, so I’m planning on taking a more traditional owner’s role. Give you pretty much free rein to do what you want with the place.”
“Are you planning to move the team?”
He stabbed at his omelet, speared a piece, chewed and swallowed. “Does that mean you’re interested?”
No. Yes. No. Yes. Damn. Sutter sucked but she’d have to be crazy not to consider the offer. Still, she wasn’t going to answer him right here and now. “I’d have to think about it.”
“I need an answer soon. You can’t string me along until you see what happens with the vote and then pick a side.”
“I can’t answer right away.”
“I can give you a couple of days.”
“Are you going to move the team?” she repeated.
“That’s something that’s up for discussion,” he said. “Obviously there are states that would be more convenient for me than New York but I’d be prepared to listen to other suggestions. From the right person.”
