33. Brock Jones
Chapter thirty-three
Brock Jones
“The man of the hour,” Slater says as I walk into his penthouse overlooking the upper east side.
After an impromptu invite, I jumped on a plane from LA to New York.
Slater always has incredible connections.
The opportunity was too good to pass up.
And the great part is, it’s only a two-hour flight to Charlotte.
I’ll make it back in time for the gala, just like I told Ariel over text this morning. The best of both worlds.
“It’s good to see you again,” I say with a smile, and take a drink he holds out for me. I don’t plan on having a single sip. I can barely keep my eyes open as is, much less if I added alcohol to my system.
“I’m glad you could make it. I know you’re a busy man. The way you handled Vinny’s situation was impressive.”
I dip my chin. “Thanks, that means a lot coming from you.”
He grins. “You flatter me.” His large hand gestures to a group of tall, athletic looking guys gathered across the room. “I’ve got some people I want you to meet. You know how I represent Lionel Cartwright?”
I nod. He’s a Hall of Fame quarterback, now retired, but still in plenty of commercials and brand deals. His name is known by everyone–even people who hate football know him.
“Well, you know his son plays too. He’s gearing up to be drafted next year, and his dad wants him to have the best agent out there.
Lionel suggested me, but the kid wants someone younger.
I say age brings wisdom, but–” He shrugs.
“He wants someone fresher. I suggested you. That’s why I invited you here, to meet him. ”
My eyes widen. To work with the son of a legend like Lionel is huge. It’s guaranteeing an elite lineup of brands who would want to work with both of them.
Slater chuckles. “Seeing the dollar signs, aren’t you?” He smacks my shoulder, then squeezes it. “This is just the beginning if you keep it up, kid. Soon you’ll have so much money you won’t even know what to do with it.”
A tall, wispy redhead walks over to us, a half-drunk glass of rosé in her right hand. She looks around my age, maybe younger.
“This is where I’ve been throwing my money lately,” he says with a grin that sours my stomach. “Londyn, baby, have you met my friend Brock Jones? He’s an agent too.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say and reluctantly stick my hand out.
She takes my hand, but instead of shaking it, she holds it while pressing a kiss to my cheek.
“The pleasure is all mine.”
She lingers too long for my liking. I take a step back, but she doesn’t seem to care. Her attention shifts to Slater. A sultry smile stretches her painted pink lips.
“My love, are you okay if I slip out for just a moment? A few friends of mine are in town, and they want to meet at Pulse for drinks.”
Slater waves her away. “Go, have fun. You’re probably intimidating the wives here anyway.”
She giggles, but it sounds performative. I grip the glass in my hand. I don’t know how much longer I can stomach this. She steps away, but Slater stops her. He bends down and kisses her cheek, before holding out a black credit card. She giggles some more, thanks him, then floats toward the door.
“I thought you said you were quitting women for a while,” I say in a tight voice.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about her. We both know what kind of arrangement this is. She doesn’t want to control me, or be controlled. It’s the perfect solution if I can resist putting a ring on her dainty little hand.” He throws back his drink. “Now, are you ready to meet Lionel Jr.?”
I swallow down the bile in my throat. “Yeah, let’s do this.”
A while later, I’ve all but got a signed contract for Lionel Jr. We’re laughing on the balcony while Lionel Sr. and Slater puff smoke from big cigars.
Once Londyn was gone, Slater turned into his normal self again.
He charmed both father and son, while talking me up just the right amount.
It’s been a great night, and I’m once again glad I came.
“You sure you don’t want a cigar, Jones?” Lionel asks with a grin. “These are the finest money can buy.”
I hold my hand up. “You enjoy them. I’m afraid they tend to turn me green.”
He chuckles, and smoke leaks from his mouth. As I lower my hand, my watch glints in the light. I check it and my stomach drops. The laughter and conversation mute. Everything slows when I see how much time I’ve spent here.
“I have to go,” I blurt out. All eyes rest on me. I clear my throat. “I’m sorry to cut things short, gentlemen, but I have a prior engagement. I’m looking forward to doing business together in the future though.” I lift my still-full glass.
Slater’s smile is tight. “Why don’t I walk you out?”
Lionel and his son give me cordial handshakes and goodbyes. I tell them I’ll be in touch. All the while my heart is racing because I’m cutting it way too close if I want to get back in time. Even using the jet I chartered, it’s going to be down to the wire.
“What are you doing?” Slater asks once the door to the balcony is closed.
My brow furrows. “What do you mean? I told you before I came that I couldn’t stay long.”
“Son, do you want to secure this deal?”
I frown. I thought I already had.
“Of course I do. They both seem to like me. I’m sure a phone call or two once I’m back home–”
“A deal of this magnitude deserves more than a phone call to close it,” he grits out.
“Just before you said you had to go, I was going to tell you to get your assistant to fax one of your contracts over. I think another hour or two of cigars and drinks, and they’ll be eating out of the palms of our hands. ”
“Another hour or two?” I shake my head. “I can’t do that. I promised a friend I’d meet them at an event.”
He barks a laugh. “You can’t be serious? You’re going to turn down the deal of a lifetime for a girl?”
“I didn’t say anything about a woman.”
“You don’t have to. I know that look. I told you not to get attached, and what do you go and do?” He shakes his head in disappointment. “There are a million copies of whoever is waiting on you. But there is only one deal with Lionel Cartwright’s son.”
I clench my jaw. The instinct to fight him about calling Ariel a copy rises up like pressure in a volcano.
There is no other Ariel Cambridge. I’ve met hundreds of women on red carpets, at parties like this one, and even in the stands of games.
None of them have ever made me feel even a fraction of what Ariel does.
And yet…Slater is right about one thing.
This deal is once in a lifetime. Am I risking everything I’ve worked for by walking away?
“I understand how you’re feeling.” Slater softens his tone.
“This life gets lonely. The travel, the long nights. It’s hard.
But you don’t want to tie yourself to someone when you’re just getting started.
Look, Londyn is liable to bring back a few model friends.
All you have to do is point at which one you want and she’ll fall right into your lap. ”
My face screws up in disgust. Like fog clearing from a windshield, my eyes are opened to who Slater really is. A sad, gross, old man with no family or friends. Sure, he has a penthouse and yachts and deals with Hall-of-Famers, but what does that amount to in the end?
Ariel’s question about what kind of legacy I want to leave comes to mind. She was right. I’ve been pushing everyone away, trying desperately to prove I’m something that I don’t think I want to be anymore. My heart picks up speed. I need to get to her and tell her all of this.
The time on my watch makes my heart stop. I’m going to be late. I hope she’ll forgive me when I explain everything.
“I’m sorry, Slater, but this isn’t what I want. If Lionel Jr. signs with someone else, that’s okay. There are more important things in life.”
I set my drink on a table and head to the door. As I leave, he yells out, “You’re going to regret this one day!”
I smile. No, maybe for the first time in a long time, I don’t think I will.