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“And you’re okay with that?”
“It’s business,” she said.
“It’s bullshit. He should be trying to convince you to stay.”
“I’m fine,” Maggie lied.
“So, are you thinking about it?” Ollie asked. “Being CEO?”
She shrugged and sidestepped a small white dog that was trotting down the path at the end of a long red leash, held by a man who was more interested in his phone conversation than his dog. “Of course I’m thinking about it.”
“I think you should do it,” Ollie said.
“You do?” She smiled at him, his words lifting her misery a little. Someone who believed in her. Someone who understood. Pity it was the wrong someone.
“Sure, it’s what you’ve always wanted, right? What your dad would’ve done if he hadn’t lost his mind and sold to Winters and his pals.”
“Yes,” Maggie admitted. “But it’s not entirely that simple. Sutter might move the team.”
Ollie shrugged. “Teams move. It happens. Everyone survives. Look at the Bluejays. Outrage and fury, and then it all worked out.”
“You wouldn’t mind moving to Texas?”
“I grew up in Arizona, remember. It’s not that different. Warmer in winter than here, that’s for sure.” Ollie shivered dramatically.
“You’d give up New York?”
“Wouldn’t have to give it up. It’s not going anywhere. I’d still have my place for the off-season. It’s not like I get to spend all my time here anyway.”
Maggie paused, stared out across the river at the Jersey side. Ollie made it sound easy but this place was deep in her bones. She’d grown up in this world bisected by a big gray river and linked by bridges. Staten Island and Deacon Field and the city.
The lights and sounds and smells of them ran through her memories like a tide. Home.
But as Ollie said, New York wasn’t going anywhere. It would still be here.
Her real home wouldn’t be though. Deacon Field. If Sutter moved the Saints, no doubt he’d sell off the stadium to the highest bidder. Who’d promptly tear it down and build another mall or endless houses or whatever was making the most money in terms of island real estate these days. No more old creaky stands and big spiked tower.
No more Saints.
Not unless she convinced Sutter to keep them here.
And that would be more of that giving in to emotion that Alex accused her of. If she was CEO of the Saints, then she’d have to do what made the most financial sense.
“What do you think the rest of the team would think about moving?”
Ollie shrugged, linked his arm through hers. She appreciated the extra warmth so she didn’t move away. Ollie was part of her memories too. Friend, then lover, and now friend again. “Some of them will be happy, some won’t want to. None of them are likely to argue with the money though.”
She sighed. “Is that all there is to it?”
“Well, if Sutter wins, then it will be,” Ollie said. “So it’s not like we’re going to argue with him and say, ‘no, don’t pay us more.’ People need to eat.”
“Not many of you are struggling to eat,” Maggie shot back.
“No, but people are allowed to make money,” Ollie said.
“So more money and moving is better than the Saints staying here?”
Ollie shrugged again. “Like I said, for me it doesn’t matter. Others would disagree. They like Winters.”
