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3
JULIAN
I pretended to watch the game as I sat at the back of my suite behind home plate. As far as I could tell, no one knew I was seething. I gave a nod and a clap at the top of the fifth, when we got out of a bases loaded, no-out jam. I posed for a few pictures and had a full conversation with my President of Baseball Operations. But I wasn’t actually paying attention to any of these things.
My focus was entirely on the idiot brothers kicked back in their seats, shoes off and flirting with girls half their age like we weren’t in the midst of a meeting they requested.
Breathe the fuck in. Breathe the fuck out.
Think numbers.
Billionaire’s meditation.
That could be the name of this game. I forced myself to play it whenever I dealt with clients or partners who wasted my time. Instead of calling off all negotiations and telling everyone to fuck themselves, I told myself to breathe and calculated how much of my fortune was amassed by maintaining relationships with people I despised.
The answer was a lot.
And this evening, the answer was getting me through my meeting with Turner and Carter Roth. The California-bred trust fund babies had been semi-professional surfers as recently as three years ago. They had no detectable traces of common sense, discretion or business savvy, but since the passing of their father three months ago, they’d inherited seven billion dollars each and full control of Roth Entertainment Group, the world’s leading sports and entertainment presenter. They were behind everything from the world’s biggest boxing matches to rock concerts and tours, and they had no idea how powerful they were.
Thankfully, I did.
The downside was that I had a small window of time to strike a deal with them, which made every meeting increasingly urgent. And unfortunately, while we’d had four in person thus far, they pretty much all ended up like this – derailed by the sight of any moderately attractive face paired with long enough legs.
“Hey, Hoult,” Turner called over his shoulder. “I got a pretty girl who wants to say hi.”
I had just been burning holes in the back of his stupid head, but the moment he twisted around in his seat, my glare transitioned into something placid and easy.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah – listen, it’s her twentieth birthday today and it’s also her first time at Empire Stadium,” he said, wagging his brow and nodding at the leggy blonde to his left. She wore two braids under her Empires cap and a kid’s sized jersey as a dress. “Don’t you, uh… don’t you think she should get a nice tour from the owner of the American League champs? A nice, personal tour?” Turner threw in a wink, as if he’d been so subtle just now that I might need an extra hint to catch his drift. I offered the bright-eyed girl an almost-smile before looking back to him.
“You know, I did just have a thought.”
His eyebrows jumped high. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I paused till I had his full attention. “I was thinking we should take a trip out to the Biarritz property. You could get an in-person look at our clientele and all the improvements we’ve made since the – ”
“Ah, fuck, you’re talking business.” Turner winced and shook it off like I’d just tricked him into holding a pile of dog shit. “Jesus, man. I got excited for a second. I thought you were about to suggest we do some blow.”
“This is a family ballpark,” I said. “You fucking animal,” I had to add with irritation. Then I made sure to laugh. As long as I laughed, apparently, I could say anything. It was just taken as classic ball busting.
“Alright, easy. This guy here,” Turner chortled. “So, fine. No blow. But will you please be a gentleman and take…” He trailed off and eyed the blonde.
“Hayley,” she supplied.
“Hayley. Will you please take Hayley for a tour around the ballpark while I talk to…” He squinted at the girl in the chair to his right.
“Cass.”
“Cass,” Turner groaned skyward. “How could I forget? Cass with the ass,” he growled, smoothing a hand over her thighs. Then with his eyes back to me, he lowered his voice. “Give me twenty minutes tops. Then you, me and the kid will get back to work.”
By the kid, he meant his brother, Carter, who had been in the bathroom with Hayley’s friend for about ten minutes now. I blamed him for all of this. I had actually done a decent job of keeping Turner on topic about purchasing my resort till Carter went off with a girl. At that point, all hope was lost. As the older of the two, Turner was never to be outdone, and if the kid managed to close, then Turner had to as well.
Nodding at the blonde, I had her walk ahead of me out the suite. “Twenty minutes,” I repeated to Turner.
“Maybe thirty.”
“Fifteen now,” I said, hearing his snort before I walked out.
