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“Sure, of course.” Tiffany moved to the chair in front of her desk and sat beside Miranda. Personal relationships weren’t easy for her, the way business relationships were. But the closer she and Dylan got, the more introspective she became about the rest of her life. She wanted to try to forge a closer bond with Miranda now that she was in New York for good. And she couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation she’d had with Dylan about teaching Miranda the ropes.
“I wanted to go over the résumés we got in this week. Nothing great, but these two guys are available within the next few months and I thought you’d want to take a look.” Miranda tucked her dark hair behind her ear and went on to tell Tiffany about their backgrounds, track records, and the information she’d gleaned from the Internet about them. She was organized, efficient, and rattled off stats the way some women talked about shoes.
And Tiffany was holding her back.
She saw that now, in a way she might never have noticed if she hadn’t taken a step forward in the rest of her life.
“What are they lacking?” Tiffany asked.
“Lacking?” Miranda shuffled the papers she’d been showing her.
“Yes. In your opinion, what are they lacking?”
“You wantmyopinion?” Miranda’s eyes widened.
Tiffany felt a pang of sadness that she’d drawn such a firm line all this time. And, she found, she truly wanted to hear Miranda’s take on the agents.
“Absolutely.”
“Well,” Miranda said hesitantly. “I know you like aggressive agents, and—”
“Remove me from the equation.”
“What do you mean? You own the company.”
“Right. But I want to hear whatyouthink they’re lacking. You’ve worked with me long enough to know what it takes to be a good sports agent. Give it to me straight.”
“Wow,” Miranda whispered, smirking a little. “Dylan must be giving you some great drugs orsomething, because the woman I work for would make a snap decision without anyone’s input.”
“He’s definitely making me take a second look at different parts of my life,” Tiffany admitted. “Stop stalling and tell me your thoughts.”
“Okay, here goes. The first guy has a stellar background, but his inquiry letter rubbed me the wrong way. It’s not a science, but hey, you asked.”
“Noted. Go on.”
“This other guy has repped five top-level athletes in the last seven years. Something is wrong. Why does he want to work for someone else?”
Tiffany loved that assessment, because she would have wanted to know the same thing. “What does your gut say?”
“He’s weak. He might have the connections, but not the balls to get out there on his own.” She pursed her lips in concentration and tapped the file. “I’m not sure what that correlates to in terms of contracts, but I’m sure it means something. Look at you.”
They spent the next half hour discussing what makes a good sports agent. As they discussed the intricacies of multitasking and being willing to give up personal time in order to succeed, Tiffany realized two things. The first was that she didn’t want to hire two sports agents and create a big agency. And the second, more important thing, was that she had a capable, intelligent woman sitting beside her who was ready to step into the limelight and begin handling clients.
“How do you like working in our office instead of working from home?” They’d worked across states for so long, she hoped neither of them would feel uncomfortable working in an actual office together.
Miranda set the file of résumés on the end of Tiffany’s desk. “It’s weird to actually see you in person instead of talking on the phone or Skype, but I like it. When you were living in L.A. and came into town just for meetings, we met at cafés and hotel rooms. That made our interactions feel…different.”
“A little less personal despite our close business relationship?” Tiffany offered.
Miranda smiled apologetically. “Yes.”
“I know, and that’s my fault. I’ve been so wrapped up in work that I’ve let other important aspects of my life, like friendships, fall by the wayside. I’m trying to slow down, and if you’re interested, I think it might be a good time for you to take on more responsibility. I’d like for you to attend a free-agency press conference the night of the fundraiser.”
“Seriously? Me? Without you?” She sat up straighter, her eyes wide. “Wait. You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“No! Why would you jump tothatconclusion?” Tiffany laughed. She’d made great strides in the way of compromise, turning off her phone while she and Dylan ate dinner, then checking messages briefly before bed, and turning it off again until morning. That meant she was busier the next day, catching up on everything she’d put off, but at least it gave herrealdowntime—and they were enjoying every blessed minute of it. She was finding the balance she never realized she was missing. And instead of her world falling apart at the seams, it was coming together in a better, more stable, and far more enjoyable way.
“Because you have a hot new boyfriend and you come into work looking way more relaxed than ever before. And pregnant women’s brains are on their babies, not things like press conferences.” She shrugged. “Seemed plausible.”
