Jody's waved over to a seat next to me by Quintana, who looks at us both after we're seated and asks, “Coffee? Tea?”
“For this conversation, we might need something stronger,” Jody mutters.
“Red Bull?” I joke. We all laugh. It's ten in the morning, so surely he doesn't mean alcohol.
Right?
“I'll get to the point. Hamish is being considered for an eight-figure endorsement package.” He names an international athletic brand so big, I gasp.
“And his behavior has put that in jeopardy?”
“Yes. If it were just Hamish, that would be bad enough. But it's affecting two teammates, rising stars in Europe trying to break into the American endorsement market. Sleeping with his team owner's daughter was bad enough. Having her jealous ex video them without permission was worse.”
“Once it's on the internet, it's forever,” I say as Quintana nods. “What do I have to do with any of this?”
“We need a wrangler.”
“Wrangler?”
“Someone to accompany Hamish for the next few months. Keep him in line.”
“A babysitter?”
“Much more than that,” Quintana says smoothly. “You'll immerse yourself in soccer – football – Learn the business. Spot and track trends. Help with product pitches and match endorsements. Keep Hamish focused, yes, but you could do more. Carlos Boraso is considering starting a new Latin American league, and Maartensi will be handling all financial aspects if it goes well. There's a growth opportunity for you here.”
“In sports? European soccer?”
Jody chuckles. “You'll lose your head in interviews if you call it that. It's always just football from here on out.”
I smooth my skirt over my knees and try to find equilibrium. I’ve spent the last three years, in college and grad school, taking internships that would put me on the path to the executive suite, and this is what I get?
A job that involves making sure a famous Scottish soccer – er, football – player doesn’t have sex?
All so he can promote a product?
You have got to be kidding me–I’m going into an industry so shallow, it gives people entire careers devoted to cockblocking? I'm getting paid to babysit a penis?
To make it adhere to curfew?
To make it heel?
Obedience training wasn't in the curriculum for my MBA, and yet here I am.
The penis whisperer.
“This is the offer? There are no other jobs with Maartensi that I'm qualified for?” I ask, feeling cornered, flailing for a way out.
“Let's put it this way, Amy,” Quintana begins, but she doesn't have to say another word. She's already said no without saying it. “You've been interviewing for a senior consultant position. This project comes with that title. You'll follow Hamish. Learn how the team works. Understand his modeling and endorsement deals. Look for new opportunities. We're guessing three to four months on the road should be enough to smooth any ruffled feathers.”
“Three to four months of following him?”
“And when you're done, you slide right into the business development group. Or risk management. The new league will need both.”
“And that position would be interim principal.” I control my voice so I don't ask it like a question. Interim principal is a huge leap up for a brand-new MBA like me. It's the fast track to partner.
Suck it, Davis. Who's making a scene now?
“Amy,” Jody says. “How much do you know about Hamish?”
I cannot blush. I cannot blush. I cannot blush.
Damn it.
I'm blushing.
Sharp and able to read a room, the guy notices, one corner of his mouth popping up a bit.
“We were in my sister's wedding together. I've seen him at family events. He was even at my graduation a few weeks ago.”
“He was? Why?”
“Said he was doing a girls' soccer–er, football–clinic at Amherst College.”
Jody turns to Quintana and says, “Reputation management.”
She nods. “Perfect. Amy, we'll need you to find more opportunities like that for him. His image needs to be scrubbed clean. Bleached and made fresh.”
“You think I can do that?”
“It's about to be your job, if you accept.”
“Is this... normal? Are other people employed at Maartensi doing... this?”
“Reputation management? Of course. It's an entire department.”
“I meant babysitting grown men who can't keep their todgers in their pants.”
Jody leans in. “I see you do know Hamish.”
Quintana's gaze narrows. “How well do you know him?”
“Not like that! No! We're related.” I frown. “He's been to my family's house for holidays. Came to my graduation.”
“Anything intimate?” Quintana ventures.
“He kissed me twice.” It's better to admit it up front than to have it show up somewhere on social media. Who knows if someone snapped a pic back in Amherst? “At Thanksgiving under the mistletoe in front of family, and at my graduation.” I brighten up. “Which makes this job a conflict of interest, doesn't it?”
A hooting sound, half owl, half snort, comes out of Jody. “If we redlined every woman Hamish has ever kissed, we'd have no candidates for this position.”
“If you feel conflicted about this job in any way,” Quintana says seriously, “by all means say so now.” Jody’s face remains professionally impassive, but now he's studying me, too. “Because this isn't going to work if all we're doing is trading one scandal for another.”
“I assure you, I'm totally professional in every way possible.”
“That's not a direct answer,” she replies.
“I believe it is.” I'm holding the line while walking it. This is a perfect example of damned if you do, damned if you don't. If I admit I'm attracted to him, that could disqualify me. Which...
Hmm.
Maybe I should just say yes.
But then what? I know the business world can be harsh, and here's a perfect example. Quintana's got some directive she's following.
The bottom line: Eight figures.
Hold on. That’s a decent chunk of money, but not that much to a place like Maartensi.
Think, Amy, think. Why would they pay me six figures a year to babysit Hamish? Something bigger must be at stake.
“Quintana,” I ask slowly, “is Hamish being groomed to headline the new Latin American league? And that's why he needs to be controlled? A cleaner image needed before Carlos Boraso moves forward?”
Something flickers in her eyes. Ah. I did it.
Passed another test.
“You're thinking bigger now, Amy. Good. It's that insight we'll need for the next three to four months as you follow Hamish. You're the perfect set of eyes and ears for us. Look for other players who might be a good fit. Keep Hamish McCormick's attention where it needs to be.”
Quintana didn't answer my question, which tells me I'm right.
“On the game,” I respond.
“On anything but sex,” Jody counters. “Sex with the wrong people.”