“Thanks. And here I’d been worried we were going to suck at this,” Cade said dryly.

Vaughn grinned. “Well, I would’ve brought Huxley along to handle the more sensitive parts of the conversation, but he’s having dinner with Addison tonight.” He gestured with his whiskey, getting back on point. “So. You think you ended things too late with Brooke. You mean . . . because you’re totally crazy about her?”

When Cade shot him a glare, Vaughn gestured between them with his free hand. “Oh, are we still pretending that’s not the deal? ’Cuz I can always wait two more drinks if you need time to ease into, you know, the truth.”

“That’s funny. Is this the good cop or bad cop routine?”

“A little combination I like to think of as the Agent Roberts special.”

Cade shook his head. Just one non-FBI friend. That’s all he was asking for. “The truth doesn’t matter now, anyway. I’m pretty sure Brooke is moving to Charlotte.”

Vaughn’s expression turned serious. “Charlotte? What brought that on?”

“One of Sterling’s competitors offered her some big executive VP position. It sounds like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“Wow. What did you say when she told you about it?”

“I said, ‘Congratulations’ and told her to knock ’em dead in Charlotte.” He saw Vaughn frown. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Don’t go?’ You’ve seen her in action; you know how good she is. If she wants this, she should take it.”

Vaughn nodded. “You’re right. She should.”

Cade pulled back. That was . . . it? Granted, he was no pro at the heart-to-hearts, but he’d expected maybe a little bit more. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Absolutely. You and I—we are in total agreement.” Vaughn leaned back in the bar stool. “Now if Huxley were here, he, on the other hand, would probably have an entirely different take on the matter.”

When Vaughn said nothing further, Cade took the bait. “And what would Huxley’s take on the matter be?”

“Probably something about how you should tell Brooke how you feel, regardless of whether she’s moving to Charlotte. You know how Huxley’s all into being honest and open like that.” Then Vaughn met Cade’s gaze straight on. “And after that, he’d probably tell you that if he ever finds a girl who fits him as perfectly as Brooke fits you, that he hopes you’re a good enough friend to say, ‘Dude, get over your shit, get off your ass, and go talk to her.”

Cade blinked. This. . . from Vaughn. “Huxley sure has a lot to say.”

“Yeah, he’s always been a know-it-all like that.”

That, at least, got a grin out of Cade. “Well, I will take Huxley’s advice into consideration.”

A comfortable silence fell between them.

“And, Vaughn?” Cade looked at his friend, speaking in all earnestness. “Thanks.”

Vaughn tipped his glass in acknowledgement. “Anytime, Morgan.”

Thirty-two

BROOKE STOOD BEFORE her closed office door, taking a few deep breaths before stepping out into the hallway—and the unknown.

She had no idea how this meeting with Ian would go, but since coming back from Charlotte she’d thought a lot about what she wanted, both professionally and personally. And she knew, in her heart of hearts, that it was time for a change.

She steeled herself and opened her door. The office was quiet; she’d deliberately scheduled her meeting with Ian at the end of the day when most of the other employees had already left.

Ian’s door was open, and he sat at his desk reading the evening news on his computer. “Come on in.” He rubbed his hands together eagerly. “I think I know what this is about. Curt Emery called you, right? He’s decided he wants us to take over at Soldier Field.”

Okay . . . this was going be a little awkward. “I haven’t spoken to Curt since our meeting a few weeks ago. But, actually, I need to tell you something about that meeting. When I got to Halas Hall, someone was waiting there: Palmer Green, CEO of Spectrum North America.”

Ian frowned, obviously recognizing the name. “Palmer Green? What did he want?”

“The meeting was just a setup, a way for Palmer to meet me.” Brooke looked Ian directly in the eyes. “So that he could offer me a job at Spectrum.”

Ian’s expression immediately turned somber. He exhaled, taking a moment. “What position?”

“Executive vice president of sales and business development.”

Ian ran his hand over his mouth. “How much?”

“Eight hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. Including stock options and bonus.”

He cocked his head. “This last Friday. Your personal day.”

She nodded. “I flew out to Spectrum’s headquarters in Charlotte.”

Ian said nothing at first in response to that. Then he peered at her across his desk, with sadness in his eyes. “Are you leaving me, Brooke?”

The moment of truth. “Well . . . that depends on you, Ian.”

He sat forward in earnest. “Brooke, I would do anything I could to keep you. I hope you know that. But Sterling isn’t Spectrum North America. I can’t match that kind of package.”

“I know that. And I hope you know that in many ways, I consider Sterling Restaurants to be like family to me. Which is why I’m hoping, Ian, that you can give me something Spectrum can’t. Something that I’ve realized is more important than eight hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars a year.” Brooke paused. She’d practiced this at home, actually saying the words out loud. She could do this.

“I want more balance in my life.”

As soon as the words were out there, she felt . . . good.

Ian stared at her in surprise, as if waiting for another bomb to drop. When that didn’t happen, he nodded eagerly. “Okay. Yes. Absolutely. What can we do to make that happen?”

As a matter of fact, she’d been prepared for just that question. “Glad you asked. I have a few ideas on that front.” Brooke opened up the file folder she’d brought with her and pulled out the report she’d prepared.

“More charts and graphs?”

“Of course.” She handed Ian the report. “The first problem we have is that I’m basically doing two full-time jobs: general counsel and VP of sales. The other problem is that our legal department is still the same size as it was two years ago, before we built the sports and entertainment division. As a result, we’ve been farming out more and more matters to outside counsel—in fact, we paid them over four hundred thousand dollars last year. And as I’m sure you are aware, because I know you always read the monthly summaries and open matter reports I send you,”—she gave him a pointed look, they both knew he never even opened the darned things—“seventy percent of that four hundred thousand was related to employment matters.”

“I see that. Very colorfully illustrated on this pie chart here.”

“What this means, however, is that we could substantially cut back our legal expenses if we brought in an in-house labor and employment lawyer to handle the less complex matters. Do you realize that we pay a Gray & Dallas associate four hundred and fifty dollars an hour every time we need to respond to one of those ridiculously onerous IDHR charges?”

“I did not realize that,” Ian said indignantly. He held up a finger. “Question: what’s an IDHR charge?”

“Seriously, if you would just read the summaries I send you . . .” Moving on, Brooke gestured to the report. “Now turn to page two. From what I’ve estimated, bringing in an in-house employment lawyer will save us roughly ninety thousand dollars.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I would then like to apply that ninety thousand toward hiring a second in-house lawyer who will take on some of my responsibilities,” Brooke continued. “Routine matters like reviewing our lease agreements, drafting the vendor contracts, et cetera, which will obviously lessen my workload. Given what I expect we’ll have to pay to get two quality in-house counsel, this should cost Sterling, in total, about seventy thousand dollars more this year.”

Ian stared at her. “That’s . . . it? Seventy thousand a year is all it will take to keep you here? Done. So done. Where do I sign?”

“Actually, if you turn to page three, you’ll see that I project, given the way the company is expanding, that by next year we’ll nearly break even and in the year after that this will actually save us money.”

Ian folded his arms over his chest, looking happy as a clam. “Sounds perfect.”

“I also want my job title changed to executive vice president and general counsel.”

Ian considered this. “I see no problem with that.”

“And . . . there’s one last thing.”

Of course there was one last thing. This deal she’d struck with Ian, to hire two in-house counsel, would help her get back the balance she’d been missing in her personal life. But she’d also spent the last few days thinking about what she wanted, professionally speaking.

And there was just one thing.

Ian must’ve seen the gleam in her eyes. He put his hands on the desk, as if bracing himself. “This one’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”

“It might sting a little.” Brooke met his gaze. “I want equity in the company.”

Ian exhaled heavily and steepled his fingers, remaining silent. He was, and always had been, the sole owner of Sterling Restaurants.

“I could give you a long speech about what I’ve brought to Sterling Restaurants over the last two years, Ian. But I’m hoping you already know. So instead I’ll just tell you that I believe in this company, and I know what I can do to continue building it. And I want to do that not as an employee, but as your partner.”

She sat there, sweating it out while he said nothing.

“What percentage?” he finally asked.

Brooke exhaled. Yes! In her head, she was doing an imaginary dance in the end zone. “I’ll tell you what. I’ve hit you with a lot of information this evening.” She smiled charmingly. “Why don’t you think everything over for a couple of days and get back to me with what you think is fair?”

“Always a negotiator,” Ian muttered under his breath, shaking his head. But when he looked at her, there was a hint of a smile curling at the edges of his lips. “I should fire you for making me panic like that, you know.”

Brooke smiled. “Well, seeing how you make me do all the firing, I’ll be sure to get on that one right quick.”

* * *

LATER THAT EVENING at Firelight, a bar Brooke had been meaning to check out for ages, Ford raised his glass of champagne in a toast. “Congratulations to the new executive vice president and general counsel and part owner of Sterling Restaurants.”

Brooke grinned. “It’ll be a long time before I get tired of hearing that.” She clinked her glass to his and took a sip.

“So this means the job at Spectrum, the whole moving to Charlotte deal, is officially out of the running, right?” Ford asked.

“Yep. As soon as my meeting with Ian was over, I called Spectrum’s CEO and let him know that I was declining the offer,” she said. Palmer had been surprised, and disappointed, but the conversation had ended as amicably as one could hope given the circumstances.

“Any regrets?” Ford asked.

Brooke thought about that, then shook her head. “Not a one.” In fact, she’d already begun step two of her plan to have more balance in her life. She’d e-mailed Rachel to say that, yes, she’d love to meet for lunch any day next week, and she’d also called her parents while walking home from work to tell them her news. She’d caught up with them for over an hour, undoubtedly the longest non-work-related phone conversation she’d had in about two years.

She looked around the bar, the part owner in her unable to resist checking out the competition. “So this is the place you, Charlie, and Tucker are always raving about.” She gestured teasingly to the appetizer in front of her. “Must be the crab cakes.” Actually, she was pretty sure it had a lot more to do with the all the attractive women dressed in jeans, heels, and camisole tops that showed lots of tanned skin.

Ford grinned mischievously. “Sure is. Love the crab cakes here.”

Brooke could certainly see why. About a dozen of those “crab cakes” had been subtly checking out Ford since they’d sat down. She was about to make a joke about cramping his style, when something—or someone, rather—caught her eye. “This really is the happening place. Even the Twitter Terrorist is here.”