Chapter 6
“Ladies and gentlemen, your high score of the night!”
He waved and shook the big boss’s hand, smiling for the pictures.
“Boo, Champ.” The clown, Stock, came up behind him and hugged him, managing to kick dirt on Cody Roberts’s jeans. “Oops.”
“Dammit, Stock. Be careful!”
“Sorry, boss! My bad.” Someone did love to give the suits hell. Not only that, but he was in contract negotiations.
The spotlights faded and music got louder, and that was their cue to go. “Damn right, Stock.” Cody brushed himself off. “Congratulations, Jimenez. Keep up the good work. The crowds love you. I’ll be back Sunday. Someone else will shake hands tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.” He kept his face straight as Stock made wild faces at the boss behind his back.
“Good man.” Cody took his sweet time climbing down off the dirt and went on his way.
“You are going to get me in trouble, you ass.” He decked Stock on the shoulder.
Stock grinned at him. “I might, but you’re too clean, buddy. You need a little mean installed in you.”
“You can have all mine.” He gave the man a quick, hard hug. “Butthead.”
“Mhm. Tell your momma it’s time she comes to see you ride. And if she’d like to go out for a beer…” Stock winked at him.
“I think Greg would be tickled to do that with y’all…” He could tease right back.
“Did I say he was invited?” Stock laughed and clapped him on the back, then started to jog off. “Still the prettiest lady I ever saw. Say hi for me!”
“You got it.” He rolled his head and made his way to the back to change into real clothes.
He got a lot of invitations to go out for a drink, go to a bonfire, and head to the casino, but he had plans. Business plans that would become future plans.
And part of that plan was waiting for him when he came out with a big ol’ smile on his face.
“Evenin’, sir.” He winked at Cole, nodded. “Not a bad ride, if I do say so myself.”
“Very well done.” Cole turned and fell in alongside him. “Still hungry?”
“God yes. I promised my belly steak, mashed cauliflower, brussels sprouts, and a huge salad.” He loved to eat, and he didn’t mind being low-carb.
“Then do I have the reservation for you. Where’s your truck? I’ve got your boots in my car.”
“It’s at the hotel. I walked down. It was a gorgeous afternoon.” And he liked being outside, when he could.
“Then I have a ride for you too. Come on.” Cole took him by the arm to guide him, just for a second, then let him go.
He grinned over, then bumped their shoulders together. “I tell you what, I have a great feeling about this event.”
“I think you have every reason to be confident, and I’m looking forward to seeing it.” Cole sounded so genuine, it obviously wasn’t just about the contracts or the money for him. He could tell Cole was in his corner.
Of course, if he rode well, he paid off, right? That was fair.
“Me too.” He was going to have to get together with Jacob when he flew back to Vegas. His personal trainer put him through his paces, every day he wasn’t riding. Best money he’d ever spent.
Cole laughed, and it dissolved quickly into low chuckles. “I guess we’ll both have to wait and see.”
“I have confidence.” One bull down. Three more to go. He had this. Steak for a check, chicken for bucking off—it was fair.
“Get in.” Cole unlocked the car. “Don’t sit on your shiny new boots.”
“My bony butt doesn’t need any corners. It gets bounced enough, thank you.” He grabbed the box and pulled it out before sliding in and settling.
Cole glanced over at him, then started the car. “You look smaller sitting down.”
“I’m not the broadest rider on earth, but I’m on the tall side.”
Cole laughed. “You’re so nice you don’t even tease back when someone is giving you shit.”
“That’s me. Nicest guy in bull riding.” At least that was his role. He could be a stone-cold asshole if he needed to, and he was self-aware enough to understand that he was calculating as hell, but that was reasonable, right?
Cole shook his head as they left the parking lot. “You’ll be more sarcastic with some beef in you.”
“Now that seems like an awful personal thing to say.” He winked at Cole.
“Oh my god.” Cole snorted, then started laughing. “I’m trying to drive here.”
Bodie grinned, nice and easy. He got a gold star for that.
“We have a lot to talk about. I want to get your ideas, but let’s wait until we get settled for dinner.”
“Yessir.” That worked just fine for him. He was feeling healthy and settled in his bones, like he knew where he was going.
“You get the radio. Not that it’s a long drive.”
It wasn’t long at all. He’d only just settled on a station when Cole pulled into the parking lot.
It was busy, so it was obviously popular, and the smells pouring out of the place made his belly snarl. “Looks great.”
“Smells great. I love a busy restaurant.” Cole walked right up to the desk to ask about their reservation, and someone grabbed menus immediately.
“This way, guys.”
She gave him a second glance and a smile, but she must be used to this because she didn’t say anything.
This was Nashville; how many thousands of business dinners did she have to see in a year? Music folks. Ranch folks. More music folks…
Maybe not as many bull riders.
“I’ll have someone bring bread. The sides are family style, the main courses are just the steak or the chop. What can I get you to drink?” She looked at him first.
“You got Miller Lite?” Low-carb beery okay-ness for the win.
“I think I can find one for you.” She winked at him. “And for you?”
Cole grinned. “Anything not light?”
The server laughed. “IPA?”
“Bring it on. Thank you.”
“One light and one not, coming up.” She hurried off toward the bar.
“I’m the king of the lightest beer.” He winked, then leaned back. His adrenaline was easing off now, and he was settling into his bones.
“So, I have questions.” Cole took a sip of water. “Ready? This is the big one. How many more years do you think you’re going to ride? All things being equal of course, barring injuries and all of that. And I don’t mean what you wish, I mean what you really think.”
“Ten years, tops. Five years doing good, five more years as an elder who rides the bigger events and the finals.” He shrugged. “I’m twenty-eight. I’ve done this for twelve years already.”
Cole raised an eyebrow and gave him a curious look. “Okay. Then we have time to develop a strong relationship that can last into those later years. Sometimes they even run longer than your career.”
A basket of hearty bread arrived with a container of soft butter, and Cole reached for it immediately. “So—oh, sorry. Would you rather I didn’t?”
“Nope. Go for it. I’m not a drama queen about carbs. I am a cheese and meat man.”
“Okay. As long as you’re good.” Cole took a bite of the bread as the beers arrived, then picked up his glass. “To a successful partnership.”
“To a successful partnership.” Now he had to figure out exactly what it meant.
“So, you wouldn’t pay me anything up front. I work on a simple, standard commission on what you make. That’s on everything—event winnings, sponsor contracts, paid media gigs, etc. I get that plus a bonus on your championship payouts. You’ll see all the numbers in the contract.”
Cole stopped talking long enough to let him think, taking another sip of his beer. “I wish I could say that’s negotiable, but honestly, it’s not. The league sets the cap, and I’m at the top of it. It’s my standard, and I will work hard for you.”
“Okay.” Rocky had explained how it worked, and he didn’t mind it, if he didn’t lose money. “I’m wanting to have enough to retire in ten years. I want to get into announcing or commentating or some such.”
“Assuming you keep riding like you are for a couple more years, you’ll have more than enough to retire well. I make it my goal to double your money. I want your sponsorships to bring in as much or more than your weekend winnings. It will take a couple of months to ramp up, but you’ll get there.”
He recognized confidence when he saw it, and he believed Cole would back up what he was saying.
“Questions so far?”
“What do you need from me?” That was the big thing. Oh, except— “And I want somewhere to live. I think I deserve a place. So, that’s on my making money wishlist.”
“Well, I don’t help you spend the money, just make it. I’ll hook you up with a financial advisor. As for what I need from you—I need a whole lot of buy in. Ayers is going to offer you a nice deal, but you’re going to have to love those boots. Does he make a pair you can ride in?”
“He does.” He wasn’t asking Cole how to spend his money, but he thought it was important to make his goals spoken.
Maybe not.
That was cool, though; he was learning shit about this. All-around cowboys weren’t making the big money, so he was on a bit of a curve.
“I’ve gotten interest from Bud Wolf at Blue Button Ranch Wear. Have you ever done any modeling?”
“Modeling? Me?” Surely that was horseshit. “No sir. None.”
“I didn’t think so, but it was worth asking. You’ll learn on the job. I’m going to call him in the morning.”
“Learn what?” He wasn’t following, and when would this happen that he’d be learning…
“Modeling. They’ll make it easy for you. They really want you to be yourself.” Cole grinned. “Just yourself in their clothing.”
“Oh. So… how does that work, then, or do I need to ask someone else?” He couldn’t afford a finance person, a secretary, and an apartment all at once.
Cole tilted his head. “I get you the contract, you show up, their photographers tell you what to do. Where am I confusing you?”
“Like, where am I supposed to show up? Where are the photographers? At the events?”
“Oh.” Cole chuckled softly. “Sorry. Sometimes, but no. Mostly it’s magazine and social media advertising. You do the shoots in their studios. Blue Button has an office in Boulder as a matter of fact.”
“Good to know.” He liked Boulder. He would just arrange it for when he had his VRBO there. Cool. “Learning something new every day.”