Chapter 8
eight
. . .
Hendrix
She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me perched on the edge of her bed amongst all the other things flung across it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, tightening her grasp on the plush, white bathrobe clinging to her naked body.
I smirked. It was clear she was both flustered and embarrassed. “I saw you watching me.”
“Please, don’t flatter yourself. Nobody was lookin’ at you. I barely saw anything.”
“Yeah, aight. Whatever you say, but we both know you’re curious.”
She chuckled. “Boy, bye! Why would I be curious? It’s not my first time seeing a dick.”
“I thought you said you barely saw anything,” I reminded her.
She sucked her teeth. “Whatever. Can you get out of my room so I can get dressed?”
“Oh, so you kicking me out when you were the one invading my privacy in the first place?”
Cassidy scoffed. “What? You think I’ll run straight to TMZ with whatever I saw or somethin’? Boy, please. I’m not one of these lil’ groupies or somebody out here lookin’ for a quick come-up,” she said, flinging her long braids to the back.
I smirked. I enjoyed pressing her buttons. “I never said you were.”
“Besides, if anybody should be mad, it’s me. Or do I need to remind you about the little pool incident a couple days ago? I was soaking wet!”
“Mmm,” I mumbled.
“What?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest.
“Nothin’.”
“Say it!” she demanded.
I rose from the side of her bed and headed for the door. “That’s the second time this week you’ve blamed me for getting you wet,” I said, before showing myself out.
Her wall of emotional protection wasn’t the only thing I was trying to beat down, but I would save it for when she was ready.
I woke up from a nap to my phone vibrating. I’d been calling my sorry ass agent for days. and he’d finally decided to return my calls.
“Max, how convenient of you to return my calls when I’m out of the country,” I answered with sarcasm coursing through my tone.
“It’s not like that, Hendrix. It’s just—”
“It’s just what? Business? Is that why you were urging me to get out of town two weeks ago? Did you know this trade shit was coming?” I scolded him.
“No, not at all. I was just as blindsided as you were about the news.”
I scoffed. “Bullshit.”
“C’mon, you know me, Hendrix.”
“I thought I did, but when it came time for you to do your fuckin’ job, you put me on the backburner like one of your D-list fuckin’ clients when you know I’ve made you the most money!”
“I understand your frustration, and I—”
“I pay you to put out fires and when shit was burning down all around me, where the fuck was your white ass at, huh!” I yelled into the receiver. “I swear to God if I find out you knew and you didn’t tell me, I’m going to smack the dog shit out of you when I see you again!” I warned him.
“Look, I know you’re feeling extremely undervalued right now and probably saying things you don’t mean, but I still appreciate you as a client, and I’m still here fighting with and for you, Hendrix. What benefits you, benefits me, remember?”
“Then you need to start acting like it instead of having me leave you ten voicemails, trying to figure out where the hell you were.”
“I know, and I apologize for that. I should’ve had my office reach out to you and tell you that I’d gone out of the country with my family, and I turned my phone off.”
My eyes rolled to the back of my head. All I heard coming out of his mouth was excuse after excuse. “Yeah, whatever.”
He sighed. “Listen, my advice to you is to enjoy your vacation. Take this down time to relax and get your head back in the game.”
“My head has always been in the game, and I don’t need you to give me advice, Max. I need you to do what I pay you to do and tell me you have some good news for me. A new endorsement deal, a new negotiation, something.”
“Just hear me out, Hendrix, because I’ve been underground trying to work some new shit out for you, okay?”
“And?”
“And, I have good news and bad news.” He sighed.
“I can’t take no more bad news, Max,” I admitted.
“The bad news is, your endorsement deal with Nike just ended and they have decided not to renew…”
“Fuck!” I yelled, about ready to fling the phone into the depths of the Caribbean Sea.
“Listen! The good news is, right now, I’m in talks with Adidas and Gatorade, and there’s been some chatter with Subway as well.
I’m working on the next big thing for you, which is a lifetime endorsement deal.
The five years you spent with Nike were great, but I know you want bigger.
And we both know a lifetime deal is an athlete’s wet dream! ” he boasted.
“Okay, so what happens now? What are they saying?” I asked.
“Well, nothing is in the bag just yet, but trust me, as soon as you get back in town, it’s back to appearances, interviews, and meetings. My goal is to have some new contracts coming your way in the next couple of weeks!”
I could hear his salesy tongue slithering through the other end of the phone. All I could do was shake my head. Until something was final, I didn’t trust shit he had to say.
“But endorsements aside, now that the news is out about your trade, you should be expecting a call from the Kansas City coach in the next week or so. Whether you believe it or not, we all want to make sure you’re the most comfortable in your new position there.”
“Yeah, aight.”
“I’m serious, Hendrix. We all want the best for you,” he assured me.
“I just don’t have time for a waste of time, Max.
So, when you start showing me some shit that benefits me and I ain’t talkin’ about this hypothetical, maybe someday bullshit.
I’m talkin’ concrete, sign my name on the dotted line shit, then we can talk.
Until then, let the coach know I’ll be awaiting his call,” I said before pressing the red button and ending the call.
Growing up with street money meant I’d always been hard to impress.
For much of my life, money was no object.
After my parents got divorced, and I became the man of the house, I had to make sure I kept myself focused on my game so I could make it big and keep my mom used to the lifestyle she’d been living for years as the Queen of Inglewood.
By the time I was going into my senior year in high school, I had already accepted a full ride to the University of Southern California to play basketball.
After spending my freshman year there, I entered the draft.
At five o’clock that evening, I got selected as a first round draft pick.
By nine o’clock that same evening, my father’s house was being raided, and he was being hauled off to prison.
Suddenly, my entire family started looking at me like the new cash cow since the drug money stopped coming in.
Early on, I learned that the people I called my friends and family only cared about what I could give them.
Over the years, only a select few gave enough fucks to call and check on me at random or wish me a happy birthday.
If I wasn’t writing a check or dropping off a care package whenever I dropped into town, they didn’t want to hear from me.
The only person who had ever looked out for me and never asked for a single dime was spending the rest of his life behind bars.