Nineteen
S cott walked into Beans & Buns, eyed the single table in the front room, waved at Melody, and headed to the back room where Lauren had set up five small cafe tables with two to three chairs at each table. The bad part about the back room was the number of tables, the good part was he wouldn’t have to deal with customer traffic. Assuming there would be a lot of traffic.
All the tables were empty, but for one. The high-schooler Scott had bought the coffee and bread from on Saturday was camped out at a corner table with a sketch book and a pile of colored pencils in front of her. He couldn’t remember her name, although he should have.
“No school or playing hooky?”
“Teacher in-service day.”
“What’s that?” Scott sat at the corner table next to hers along the back wall.
“A day off for everyone.”
Scott nodded as if that made sense and set up his laptop and work on the table in front of him.
As soon as he finished setting up, he headed back to the front of the bakery and the counter. “Just a coffee.”
“Staying?” Melody asked as she grabbed a basic white mug and filled it with coffee.
“For the afternoon? Yeah. It’s nicer working out of here than at the hotel.”
Scott handed Melody a twenty. “The girl sitting back there?”
“Makenna?”
“Yeah, make her whatever she likes to drink too.”
Melody raised a questioning eyebrow at him.
“Apparently she knows who I am and from the way she said it, I don’t think it’s a good thing.”
“So you’re trying to win her over? The one you need to win over is me.”
“I’m not trying to win anyone over.”
While they were talking, Melody moved behind the counter putting together what could only be considered a concoction of flavored sugar with a splash of coffee.
“You all should consider adding smoothies to your drink menu.”
Melody rolled her eyes but didn’t respond.
The bells above the door rang out, and a man dressed in the local cable company’s uniform walked into the bakery. “You order internet?”
Melody’s eyes narrowed as she leveled her gaze at Scott.
That was fast. Scott wondered how much it was going to cost him.
After a quick glance to the kitchen to check on Lauren, Melody returned her attention to the two men across the counter from her. “Where do you need to set things up?”
“Where do you want it?”
“Back room?”
Scott noticed Melody didn’t ask Lauren’s opinion. Maybe he didn’t have to worry about winning her over after all.
“Back room.” Scott agreed.
“Go around back, and I’ll let you in. But fair warning. If you have to go down to the cellar, you’re on your own. I think Freddy Krueger and Jason Vorhees live down there.”
This time it was Scott raising a questioning eyebrow.
“She can’t say no after it’s installed.”
Scott silently agreed. He grabbed his coffee and Makenna’s drink then returned to the tables in the back before Lauren came out from the kitchen to see what they were talking about.
As he set Makenna’s drink down, he caught a glimpse of her sketchbook. “May I?”
“It’s nothing special.” But she pushed it closer to him. He flipped through the pages, becoming more impressed with each turned page.
“You’re good. I didn’t realize Iron Creek High School had an art department.”
“They don’t. Not really. I mostly learned from YouTube.”
Scott laughed. “Fair enough. Wish you were around 15 years ago when we were painting the train trestle.”
“That was you?” She fidgeted with the pencils on the table.
“No,” Scott grinned. “That was your boss. We just held the ropes to keep her from falling.”
“We?”
“I won’t snitch on them, but if you ask around, someone might share the names of the other guilty parties.” Scott tapped the sketchbook before sliding it across the table back to her. “Do me a favor and draw up a logo to use on bags and boxes. And while you’re at it, maybe you could design a sign for outside.”
“Um.”
“I’ll pay you for it. Oh, and don’t tell Lauren.” He took his coffee and sat down to get some work done.
Makenna nodded and reached for a pencil while flipping to a clean page. “Thanks for the drink.”
Scott winked at her before burying himself in his work. He might not be able to fix everything his father broke, but he could help in other ways to make things a little better.
The first call of the day arrived after he spent a good hour and a half going over contracts without any interruptions. He picked up the phone. “Brandonson.”
“Mr. Brandonson?” The voice on the other end of the phone hesitated.
“Yes.”
“This is Carson Tobin.”
“Ahh. Look, I’m not your agent, so we shouldn’t be talking with each other. There’s wiggle room, but if it comes out you took my advice, and it will get out, it could cause problems for you.”
“Coach said I should talk to someone, and Buck said I should talk to you.”
Of course he did. Three years ago, Buck was in a similar position. He could have transferred to one of the power schools and made six figures. Easily. Buck decided to stay where he was at, and it paid off for him. He was drafted two rounds ahead of his projected position by a team willing to give him time to develop. When Scott and the GM sat down to negotiate the contract for another player, they had talked about Buck for a moment. The GM told Scott the reason he was so high up on their board was because he stuck with the one who brought him to the dance. Character was important to some teams. The players didn’t realize how good those teams were to play for unless they already spent a few years on a dysfunctional team, or they had parents or someone else pointing out that sometimes the benefits from one team outweighed the Brinks truck the other team was willing to back up.
“I’m sending you an agreement. It’s a flat rate and only good for 48 hours.”
“Mr. Brandonson, I don’t have much money.”
“It’s a dollar. Just a formality, but it will keep everyone grudgingly happy.” Scott sent the PDF as a text attachment and waited for the kid to digitally sign it and send it back.
“How am I going to pay you?”
Scott closed his eyes and counted to five. Slowly. “I’ll send you the bill.”
He wouldn’t. He’d call the kid’s mom later, explain the situation and ask for a check so they had a paper trail.
His phone dinged, announcing the signed agreement landing in his inbox.
“Let me guess, you have agents calling promising you they can get you six-figures or more, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And from schools that weren’t interested in you your freshman year?”
“Yeah.”
This was the new normal. But the problem was it locked kids into long-term marketing contracts that only benefited the sponsor. Not the athlete.
“Let me ask you this. If money wasn’t on the table, would you still consider it?”
“No.” The kid didn’t even take thirty seconds to think about his answer.
“There’s your answer. If they want your name and likeness that badly, they can come to you.”
“But…”
“Money’s a good reason for a lot of things, but it’s not the only reason. Don’t do something you’re gonna regret in fifteen years, wishing you could go back and change things. Now, when it comes time for the draft, in two years, I’m going to knock on your door and then we’re going to have a conversation about money.”
“Thanks Mr. Brandonson.”
“You’re welcome.” Scott ended the call with a soft laugh. He was getting these calls more and more. Maybe he should switch from professional athletes to college athletes.
“That was sweet, you know.” Lauren set a cookie on a plate next to him.
“What was?”
“Helping that kid.”
He grinned up at her. “Are you listening on my calls?” Scott kicked out the chair next to him, hoping she’d take the invitation.
“No. It was just hard not to hear it.” She looked around the shop, then sat down next to him.
“With the NIL, it’s easier for kids to get taken advantage of. I try to do what I can. In this case, he’d get lost at one of the bigger schools. He’ll get more interest if he stays where he is.”
“NIL?”
Scott forgot Lauren wasn’t part of his world and didn’t know any of the lingo. “Name, Image, and Likeness. College athletes can get paid now. Which is great. But it also means there are a lot of people hoping to make money off them. Before they know it, they’re locked into a long-term deal with an apparel line and can’t get out of it when they should be making ten times as much.”
“Like I said. That was sweet.” Lauren looked down at her fingernails.
Before Scott could stop himself, he reached for her hand and wove his fingers through hers. “You know why I didn’t come back to Iron Creek until now? My dad. It wasn’t about you or the town or anything else. I blamed my dad for my mom leaving. I didn’t want to see him. I guess you could say I took her side in the split.”
“I assume that means you still talk to her then?”
“Of course.” Scott nodded. “We spend Christmas and Thanksgivings together too. I never came back because I followed my mom, and my mom wasn’t here.”