His friend and partner sighed and let his expensive pen drop to the table. “Whatever,” he muttered, swiveling around in his chair.
“Ignore the ass in the corner. Keep going,” Michael encouraged. He noted from the corner of his eye, Martin was also paying attention. A good sign.
“A lot of times,” Kat said, looking bolder with his encouragement, “money isn’t the problem. People will write a check just to make the begging stop. The real problem is the energy it takes to run something like this. It’s face time with people that inspire. Anyone can make a donation. Who is going to show up and put their face on the line? Their time and energy?”
“Yes, but—”
Michael reached out and put his hand over Ted’s face, smothering whatever his friend had been about to say. “Keep going.”
Kat glanced quickly toward Martin, who nodded as well. Bolder, she took a deep breath. “You mentor. It’s what you do. You’ve shown me that, and I’ve seen you talk about it. So this camp… It’s an offshoot of the mentoring thing. Catching them young. Right?”
He nodded, not wanting to break her stream of thought.
“Why not give the baby Bobcats a chance to practice mentoring themselves? You learn best by teaching, right? So if they’re provided the opportunity to mentor—and there’s a buy-in—then maybe they’ll catch the giving-back bug faster.”
“I love it,” Martin said, writing furiously.
“Why the buy-in for specific kids?” Michael asked, interested. “Why not just make them write a check to participate?”
“Because everyone does better with some skin in the game. But what’s more, when the kids show up, they get grouped together with the player that silently sponsored them. They form their own little team. Maybe they name their team, create a shirt or a flag or something to represent themselves while they’re at camp for those days.” Kat’s smile blossomed, and it was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen. Her joy radiated. “One of the best memories of my life is when my parents sent me to a sleepaway camp at a university a few hours away. Middle school, so I was about thirteen. The coaches were the university’s men’s and women’s tennis teams, so they were anywhere from ages eighteen to twenty-three. We were divided up into teams, with a coach. For five days we basically lived together, practiced together, bonded. That coach became like our den mother, our big sister, our aunt, our war general. We worshipped her. If she called me up right now and talked to me, I’d drop everything to listen to what she had to say because of that bond.”
“Form the bond,” Michael said slowly. “Smaller groups from the start, that they stick with the entire week, including the coach.”
“We had larger drills and stuff, don’t get me wrong,” Kat said quickly. “I can’t tell you how to set up your own camp, that’s not what I mean. It’s just, you know, after camp is over, they’d be going home with a T-shirt or something that didn’t just say ‘Michael Lambert’s Football Camp’ or whatever.”
He wrinkled his nose at that. Too pretentious.
“It would say ‘Killian Reeves’s Kickers,’ or ‘Harrison’s Harassers.’” She blushed again, looking down. Then she mumbled, “I sort of suck at team names, so ignore those. They were just examples.”
“And you’re thinking the guys would stay in touch.”
“Make it an assumption from the get-go. They don’t have to drop everything and answer a phone call. But an e-mail a few times a year maybe. Or an encouraging letter mailed out the first week of the kid’s next football season. It would go a long way for everyone. The kids would feel like someone gave a damn, and the players would be training themselves to look outside their own ego from the start.”
She was fantastic. And she didn’t even know it. Without breaking eye contact with Kat, he asked, “Martin?”
“I’ll start something,” the lawyer said, standing. Martin earned his keep by being a perceptive son of a bitch, and right now his lawyer had quickly picked up his papers. Tapping Kat on the shoulder to gain her attention, he shook her hand. “Very well done. Nice to meet you, Ms. Kelly. Good luck with all your athletic endeavors.”
She chuckled at that, but shook. “Thank you, Mr. Bennett. It’s been a pleasure.”
Martin let the conference room door close behind him. Michael still couldn’t stop watching her. She was glowing. “Teddy.”
“Yeah.” His partner sighed. “Do I get a say in any of this?”
“Is it going to be negative?”
“It’s not all going to be positive,” he confirmed.
“Then go out there and write it in an e-mail.”
“Why can’t I just tell you right now?”
Kat’s eyes kept ping-ponging between them.
“Because I want you to get out of the room.”
Thankfully, his business partner didn’t need to be told twice. “Yeah, yeah,” he said easily, standing. Unlike Martin, he didn’t make a point of saying good-bye to Kat, but he wisely closed the door behind him.