Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
But then I re-read it. What the fuck? I sound like such a suck-up. As I try to rewrite a reply, a kernel of guilt wedges into my rib cage. This is another consequence—me not knowing what to say about a client because the client jacked me off.
Finally, as I reach the street, I tap out a new reply
Maddox: He’s having a helluva season, isn’t he?
There. I hit send. It’s a thoroughly defensible message. Outside the busy airport I find my town car. The driver isn’t idling. He’s cut his engine and is simply waiting. See, Dad? I’m not such a jerk.
Except, as I slide into the backseat, I wince.
I kind of am a jerk. Here I am courting this young kicker, hoping to woo him to sign with us, and meanwhile, I’m fucking around with another client.
Braxton wouldn’t like that. Braxton would think I wasn’t paying attention to him. Mia might worry. So might Nate, Crosby, or anyone on my long list of other clients I brought from Level Up to CTM.
I drop my face into my palm. I’ve got to stay strong when I see Zane.
It’s past time to put him out of my mind in every way.
As the car weaves through traffic into Manhattan, I answer texts and emails about other clients. I stay busy all night focusing on everyone else.
The next morning, I meet Adriana in her office to catch up, and I’m as nose-to-the-grindstone as I can be. We dive into our client roster, reviewing all our open deals and the next steps.
“You’ve got the re-up for Enchanted Boards for Lucy wrapped up, right?” I ask. Lucy is a world-class surfer and her major sponsor paid top dollar to renew her deal.
Adriana gives me a thumbs-up. “Absolutely. I finalized it last night. They’re incredibly by the book, but no complaints. By the book is good, and the deal is done,” she says.
My jaw ticks.
By the book is good.
I’m not by the book anymore.
I open the spreadsheet on the San Francisco Hawks receiver we rep. His contract is coming up soon. “Let’s chat about Nate.”
Adriana takes off her glasses, leans back on the couch, and studies me. “Let’s talk about you.”
I whip my gaze away from the screen. “What? Why?”
She flaps her arm at me. “You’re a ball of tension, Mad.”
Mad. Fuck. Why is she calling me that? That’s Zane’s nickname for me. I shake it off, blinking. “Just all this travel. I didn’t sleep much.”
That’s a lie.
I slept fine last night after I jerked off, replaying my gym session with Zane yet again.
“Be sure to schedule in some shut-eye, okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll do that tonight after I play pool with Braxton and his buddy from high school.”
Her eyes spark. “I want to come along. I’m a pool shark. How could you forget?”
Time to get my head on straight. “All the travel, I guess. Would be great to have you join us.”
I vow to do better and start by googling Ronan so I know what I’m dealing with. When I plug his name into the search engine along with Braxton’s, I find their high school yearbook pics and Ronan’s last name. A search for his full name easily yields his social media.
Ah.
Everything makes perfect sense now.
He’s a first-year law student.
That night at The Lucky Spot in Chelsea, I line up a shot then tap the cue ball lightly, sending the green ball into the corner pocket.
“Oh, man!” Ronan booms, his big voice matching his big bear of a body. He’s the protector type, for sure. “Again? You two are sharks!”
“I told you, man,” Braxton says, smiling. “He’s crazy good. Just like Adriana.”
My colleague blows on her red nails. “When you’re good, you’re good.”
Ronan grins. Even his smile is big. “Confidence, I like it. These two have it.” But then Ronan’s smile turns to ash. “But how’s your contract work? I don’t like some of the terms his last agent had him sign. I don’t want him to sign anything without a cap guarantee.”
Did he just Google ‘standard terms of NFL player contracts’? “I’d never let Braxton sign without a cap guarantee. I’d never let anyone sign without that,” I add, keeping my tone warm and professional. “We’d get him a full guarantee. That’s what we do.”
“Cool, cool,” Ronan says, as Braxton busies himself with studying his beer glass.
“I’ll want to land him a guaranteed base salary as well as a signing bonus and other incentives.” Like I’ve told Braxton already. This isn’t my first time on the wooing-a-client merry-go-round.
“We pride ourselves on our deal-making with teams and with brands,” Adriana says. “Maddox and I have already been talking to Madison Avenue companies we think will be a good fit.”
Ronan scoffs. “Everything’s a good fit for my man,” he says.
I bite my tongue. Now’s not the time for that spiel.