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Todd nodded. "Then it's sold." Todd turned to me. "Pick out a couple of other pairs of pants and shirts, and maybe a few ties, and I'll go pay. This is the start of the new media-ready Mikael. We’ll begin working on that next.”
Mikael and I watched as Todd sauntered off to find the cashier.
"Thank you for not dressing me like Mr. Marshall. I like him very much, but he doesn't attract women,” Mikael said as he continued to study himself in the mirror.
I looked at Mikael, prepared to tell him that there was more to life than chasing women, but he was just barely twenty years old, and I suppose for a young man at that age, chasing women was the highlight of life.
But that didn't mean I couldn't say anything that might persuade Mikael to tone his woman attracting efforts down. "Mr. Marshall doesn't attract women because he doesn't do anything but work. But if he were to go out to the clubs with you, he'd attract all the women. You’d have a tough time of it."
Mikael looked over at Todd, studying him like he was trying to figure out what he was missing.
"Todd exudes confidence and money, but he doesn't brag. He’s also kind and generous."
Mikael's brows furrowed, and I was glad that it appeared he was considering my words.
"Go change, and I’ll grab a few more items."
I was curious what Todd had set up for media training, but whatever it was, I was mostly glad that he now understood how important it was to prepare Mikael. I began to believe that Todd really would listen to me and my ideas. As long as everything stayed professional, I felt really good about my job.
Todd looked up toward me from the counter where he was talking with the young woman ringing up the clothes. He smiled and mouthedthank you. For reasons that made no sense, watching his lips move reminded me of the other night and all the delicious things he did to me with those lips.
My cheeks heated, and I turned away. Dammit. Todd might be doing the right thing, but I sort of wished he wouldn’t.
11
Todd
I'll admit I had some concerns about dressing Mikael to look like a modern-day James Dean, but I told Betts that I would trust her, so I went along with her advice. Maybe she was right since he looked incredibly uncomfortable in the suit but quite at home in the jeans and leather jacket. I just had to hope the kick-ass outfit didn't make him even more misogynistic.
Truth be told, the hardest part of this outing was in resisting reaching out to touch Betts. Not even in a sexual way. I wanted to push the strands of her gorgeous red hair away from her face. I wanted to reach out and touch her as easily as I'd patted Mikael on the shoulder. And if I was being totally honest, I wanted to wrap my arm around her and tug her next to me so that Mikael would know she was taken. But of course, she wasn't taken. At least not by me.
I was going to do my damnedest to respect her wishes and keep everything between us professional while I hoped beyond hope that perhaps she'd give in to the attraction I knew she had toward me. There was a brief second when I was paying for the clothes that I swore I saw heat flush her cheeks. Was it a sign that if I stayed the course, eventually, she’d give in? I could only hope and pray.
After I paid for the clothes, we took our individual cars back to corporate headquarters and into a conference room. I had arranged for several members of the marketing team to act as reporters with Mikael sitting at a table for a mock press conference.
They started by asking many of the same questions that had gotten him into trouble the other night, and because Mikael was still messy inside, his answers, while different, still skewed toward horny teenager. Even a question about the puck led him to inquire about the term “puck bunny”. Jesus Christ, we had our work cut out for us.
Afterward, I pulled Mikael aside. "There's still some work to do, Son. But I can see that you really want to do well here. I know that you're going to listen to Betts as she tutors you on things like etiquette or how not to view every question that is asked as some sort of sexual innuendo."
Mikael arched a brow. “Innuendo? I don't know this word."
"Well, hopefully, you will know it soon."
Over the next couple of days, I gave Betts full reign over tutoring Mikael and working with the PR team on cleaning up his image. They wisely put out into the media that Mikael's English wasn't very good and that was why he came off sounding like such a douche. Whether the media was buying it or not, I wasn't sure. I supposed we'd find out soon. Our first game was going to be against the Buckaroos, and it was quickly coming up on us.
The next week, I met with Betts and Mikael more frequently, and each time, I left frustrated, although not because of Mikael's progress. The truth was, while I couldn’t be sure he was going to be media-ready when I needed him, the kid was making an effort. No, my frustration came from spending time with Betts. She was amazingly patient with Mikael and very good at guiding him to understand what it was we were trying to elicit from him.
We not only needed Mikael to perform well in front of the press, but also out in the world, so one night, we took him out to dinner and tonight, we were taking him to a club. Maybe it wasn’t wise to throw him into so much temptation, but what better way to learn to swim than to dive into the deep end, right?
I arrived early, mostly because I needed a drink before I had to guard myself against the never-ending pull I felt toward Betts. I selected the Golden Oasis club because I knew it was a place where Buckaroo fans hung out, so Mikael would be less likely to be swamped by women, or if he happened to offend them, he would be offending the other team's fans, not our own.
I stood at the bar and ordered a drink.
"Haven't seen you here for a while," Sam Clarke, one of the co-owners of the club, said.
"Just working hard."
Sam smiled. "You know what they say, all work and no play makes Todd Marshall a dull boy."
