“I’m aware of that.”
“So how realistic is it that someone around here will hire you? How realistic is it that someone will hire you for any amount, much less for what Laura and I are offering?”
The answer was obvious. When Griff declined to waste his breath on it, Speakman continued. “Your prospects are bleak. You can’t play football. You can’t coach football. You can’t write about or talk about football, because none of the media outlets will hire you to do so. You a
dmitted having to liquidate all your assets to pay your debts, indicating to me that you didn’t save for a rainy day.”
Speakman seemed to enjoy highlighting his shortcomings. Maybe, Griff thought, he should challenge him to a footrace. See who was better at that. “I made three million a year from the Cowboys, plus endorsements,” he said tightly. “Everybody got a chunk of it, starting with my agent and the IRS, but what I got to keep, I spent, and had a whale of a great time doing it. What’s your point?”
“My point is that you seem to have no head for business or you would have appropriated your income differently. It also appears you had no talent for larceny, or you wouldn’t have got caught.”
“A trap was laid for me. I walked into it.”
“Nevertheless.” After a beat, Speakman said, “I’m not trying to insult you, Griff.”
“Really?”
Again Speakman ignored his caustic tone. “You asked why you were chosen.”
“I’d almost forgotten the question.”
“It required a long explanation. And I wanted to be brutally honest about our reasons for extending you this offer. Primarily, you have the genetic makeup to create the child we desire. Second, for reasons just discussed, you’re in urgent need of the money we’re offering to pay. Last, you’re totally independent.
“You have no family, no real friends, no attachments, no one to whom you must account, and that is a tremendous benefit to us. We’ve emphasized the confidentiality this arrangement demands. We’re the only three people who will ever know that I didn’t sire the child Laura will conceive.”
Griff was somewhat placated. Besides, he couldn’t afford to get huffy. Especially over the bald truth. He moved to the desk, picked up a crystal paperweight, weighed it in his palm. “You’re putting a lot of trust in me to keep my mouth shut.”
Speakman chuckled. “Actually, we’re not. We’re putting a lot of trust in greed.”
“Six hundred thousand?” Griff set down the paperweight and grinned at Speakman. “Not all that much when you think about it. Not what I’d call greedy.”
Laura looked at her husband. “You haven’t told him the rest?”
“We hadn’t got that far,” Speakman replied.
Griff said, “The rest?”
Speakman rolled his chair over to the desk and picked up the paperweight. Taking a handkerchief from his pants pocket, he used it to polish the crystal as he smiled up at Griff. “It’s not that we question your integrity.”
“Bullshit. You’d be fools not to question it.”
“Right,” Speakman said, laughing softly. “We would.” With the handkerchief still wrapped around the paperweight, he replaced it on the desk, moved it an eighth of an inch to the left, then slowly withdrew the handkerchief, which he refolded into a perfect square before returning it to his pocket.
“So, for my and Laura’s peace of mind, and to ensure your silence, you’ll be paid one million dollars upon the birth of our child. Additionally, you’ll receive one million dollars each year on his birthday. And all you have to do in return is forget you ever knew us.”
CHAPTER
5
GRIFF TOSSED THE HONDA’S KEYS TO THE VALET PARKING attendant and walked briskly into the sleek lobby of the upscale building. A swank hotel occupied the lower twelve floors, condos the top twelve.
The lobby bar was relatively quiet on this midweek evening. A pianist was playing Sinatra-type standards on a white baby grand. Most of the tables were occupied by businessmen, nursing cocktails while they played one-upmanship.
The bar accessed a lighted patio where seating was available, but Griff chose to stay indoors, where he could enjoy the air-conditioning while keeping an eye on the entrance. He claimed a free table, signaled the waitress, and ordered a bourbon.
“House or label?”
“House is fine.”