Chapter 42 #2
"I want our name and logo on the gates," Chance said.
"I want banners around the arena. I want to sponsor shows - er, events.
I have every intention of going full force with this, because our investment in one rider has made us two dollars for every one spent.
That makes me think putting our name on these bullfighters might be even better. "
"And we want them rebranded," Braden said. "From 'bullfighters' to the 'Deviant Rescue Squad.' We don't care if you say their recent absence was a part of this. What we do care about is who wears our gear. Let Red Bull sponsor the team you have now. That's fine."
"But we will pay more," Chance said, making it sound like a warning. "And if you refuse my offer, I will make it public."
"You're looking at over a million-dollar investment," Mr. Sousa warned.
Chance shrugged. "At least."
I could see Mr. Merrill all but drooling. That number? It would make him look good to the investors. I had no clue how it stacked up in the scheme of things, but the way Chance had just dangled more money in front of them? I was now impressed.
"We're not taking a portion of your investment for their pay," Mr. Haynes warned.
Chance waved that off. "We're going to sponsor these men individually.
All I need is your agreement that we can have them.
Not the B team, but these three. And yes, we're aware that if any one of them is injured or takes time off, the alternate will not be in our uniform.
That should be appealing for you to get another sponsorship for them. "
Mr. Merrill dragged a hand across his mouth. "You make it sound like you've done this before."
"It's no different with gamers," Rhaven pointed out. "The more skilled someone is, the more valuable their name is. That value comes back with exposure, because when people plaster their image on their computers, walls, or anywhere else, it will have our company logo with it."
"And recognition of a brand tends to build confidence," Chance said. "That increases sales, subscriptions, and customer loyalty. Thus, it's worth it to me, but only if the people I'm sponsoring will bring that sort of attention. Those three men you have working right now? They don't."
"They're good bullfighters," Mr. Sousa insisted.
Chance shrugged. "I know nothing about that. What I do know is their reputation took a hit last weekend. A man died. One they were supposed to protect. Now, that death proves just how dangerous this sport is, but it also means they failed, and I'm not interested in paying for failure."
"Which is why we want these three," Braden told him.
"And who are you again?" Mr. Merrill demanded.
Braden smiled. "Manager of Mechanics."
"I thought you were bringing the Head of Company Outreach," Mr. Merrill said, making it sound like he'd been lied to.
"That's me," Rhaven said. "Then again, you made it clear you don't want to work with me."
"But I'm her equal in the company," Braden promised. "I spend more time on our own product, but I have been with Deviant Games since before the company even had that name."
"And my co-owner, due to her condition, has empowered Braden to be her stand-in. So that makes him my equal," Chance said.
"Well, let's break this out," Mr. Merrill said, gesturing again to the conference rooms behind him. "You'll want to consider the value of the banners on the arena and gates, as well as what options we have for branding the specific events."
Chance simply leaned back, making it clear he wasn't moving. "I'm only interested in the rest if we get the bullfighters, Donald."
I noticed how easily he used the man's first name. The other directors had called him Mr. Hunter, giving him that respect, but Chance hadn't returned it. He also hadn't insisted they use his first name the way he had with us.
I glanced over at Jorge, then Isaac. They were silent, but from the intensity in their eyes, I knew they'd spotted those details too. In truth, they were watching Chance the same way they did Without Ado: as if braced for him to turn on them any second.
"And if we agree to this specific team of bullfighters," Mr. Sousa asked, "then you're willing to do the rest?"
"I'm willing to consider it," Chance said.
"So, name your price. Will I have to agree to signage and event branding to get these three?
Do I need to sponsor a specific number of riders as well?
I'm hoping to sign at least two more this weekend, just so you're aware. Or is there something else you want?"
"The signage for the arena and the chutes will get you the bullfighters," Mr. Merrill relented.
"Which bullfighters?" Chance pressed.
So Mr. Merrill gestured at us. "These."
"Working?" Chance asked. "Because they're no good to me on the sidelines. Will this be the main team again, or do I need to call my driver because I'm headed home?"
Mr. Sousa lifted a hand like he was trying to calm Chance down. "No need to leave. We'd be happy to have the Deviant Rescue Squad working again."
"Here?" Chance asked. "I want them at the Nashville show. Do that, and I'll make the Pbr very, very happy."
"Can you?" Mr. Sousa asked. "Jorge, I know you took a personal leave. Isaac, will you be available?"
"I'm already here," Jorge said.
"Same," Isaac agreed.
But Chance looked over at me. "And you're good too, Tanner?"
"I am, Chance," I said, unable to stop myself from using his first name.
But the way he smiled at me? Yeah, I'd just played his game somehow. And when Chance looked back at the directors, it was like some victorious hero.
"Well, then that's settled," Chance said. "I'll let the Deviant Rescue Squad tell us any changes they want to the uniforms." And he rocked to his feet, gesturing to the conference room. "So let's go talk about numbers. Thank you, matadors."
Rhaven made a little gesture, catching my eye. "We'll talk after. Go ahead and get out of here."
"Yes, ma'am," I said as I stood.
"Pleasure working with you, ma'am," Jorge said.
I couldn't help but notice Mr. Merrill twitch as we acknowledged her, but I didn't get it until Isaac stood and tipped his hat at Rhaven. "We appreciate the consideration, ma'am."
Because it was that last word Mr. Merrill didn't like. Yeah, well, I'd be using it from now on. A lot. Not only had Rhaven earned my respect, but she'd also given me the most polite form of vengeance I could think of. And a sponsor. Another chance.
We were about to become the Deviant Rescue Squad, and I liked that name more and more each time I heard it.