45. JACKSON
FORTY-FIVE
JACKSON
I walk into the coffee shop Charles Wentworth texted me to meet him at. It’s pretty empty besides the line of customers and a few people standing around the pickup counter waiting for their orders.
My attention catches on someone at a small table rising to stand.
He smiles at me and sends me a wave. My jaw goes slack.
Holy shit. The man is…is incredibly attractive.
He’s got ear-length blond hair that’s slicked back, prominent cheekbones, and a look that leaves you with no doubt he’s in charge.
Oh, and the suit he’s wearing? Looks like it was painted on.
He’s got Nicholas Galitzine vibes. I can’t wait to tell Frankie; he’s going to lose his shit. Frankie has a huge crush on Galitzine.
I somehow remind my feet to move and walk forward.
The man holds out his hand. “Jackson Olander. Nice to meet you. I’m Charles Wentworth, but please call me Chuck.”
I give him a firm handshake. “Nice to meet you, Chuck.”
We sit, and he pushes a coffee toward me. He’d asked for my usual order when he sent me the details of our meeting. He sends me a smile. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
“Thank you. I’m a bit shocked you wanted to meet with me. I know you represent Stone, and I’m not exactly the same caliber as him.”
He chuckles. “Not full of yourself. Good to know. I have to say, I’m more used to the opposite, so that’s refreshing.
” His dark eyes shine with amusement. “But…I beg to differ. And I’m not just saying that because I want to sign you.
I don’t believe for a second that agents haven’t been clamoring over you. ”
I dip my chin in acknowledgment. “I do get the occasional email or business card, but I’d been pretty set on my agent since I started.
That is, until recently.” I hesitate. “But I’ve never had any interest from you or your firm.
” I’m pretty confused as to what inspired the change.
Purely because of Stone vouching for me?
He grins. “I have a pretty full roster, so I don’t reach out to many players. And I have strict criteria for the clients I choose to represent.”
I twist my cup back and forth. “Oh?”
“I only represent queer athletes, Jackson. It is my mission to provide queer athletes the support and opportunities they so sorely lack. Too often they’re asked to hide or wait—which ends up being indefinite.
Whatever you want, I will help you achieve.
As a queer man in the sports industry, I am very aware of the challenges that will present themselves, and it’s my goal to help you navigate them. ”
I blink a couple times before his words register. As a queer man in the sports industry. He…just said it so easily. I want that. That confidence.
“I have a team well-versed in this, but I specifically take on the clients where the risk or desire of coming out is…imminent.”
I’m nodding…and nodding. Wow. “Okay. So that’s me, then.”
“Yes. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way.” His lips hook up in a boyish half-smile. “But I’m not too particular about the star power of my clients. No matter the level, I want them to feel safe and supported.”
I grin. “Ahhh, so you don’t think I’m talented.”
He lets out an exaggerated sigh, but his eyes dance. “I knew that was coming.”
I think I like this guy.
“In all seriousness, you’re an incredibly talented outfielder with a massive amount of potential. If it weren’t for the fact that the Jetties outfield is already stacked, I have no doubt you’d already have received the call-up.”
“Thank you. Hoping I can find my way there in the not-too-distant future.”
“All right. Let’s get down to business. I thought you could share with me a bit about what you’re hoping for. I could give you a brief rundown of how I might handle the situation, and then you can take some time to think over if you want to sign with me and Wentworth Elite.”
“I want to sign,” I blurt.
Chuck’s lips twitch. “I love the confidence. And I promise you’ll be well taken care of here.
I’ll forward the paperwork to your email when we’re done, but I still want you to take some time to think it over.
I’m a firm believer that an agent becomes like family.
I’ll be the person you call any time of day or night when you need someone.
I am your emergency contact in many ways.
I want to make sure you feel comfortable signing that role over to me. ”
“I’ve barely spent a half hour with you, and you are already eons better than my last advisor. And he was my father.”
Chuck’s gaze dims. “I’m sorry, Jackson.”
I shake my head. “It is what it is. But honestly, even removing the queer part of the equation, I don’t think they were the right choice.
He and the guy he was pushing me toward were always looking out for themselves—and, yeah, as a result, they’d want me to make the most money possible, but I was never a priority. ”
Not like I clearly am to the man sitting across from me. I’m a person to him. Not dollar signs. I never truly sat down and thought about how important an agent was: crisis management, PR emergencies, protecting me and my best interests.
“That will never be an issue here. You will always be my top priority.”
“Even over Stone?” I bounce my eyebrows.
He barks out a laugh. “I don’t have favorite children.”
I snort. “Children? Really.” I arch a brow. “You look like you maybe have five years on me.”
“Well, I appreciate that. But I know how old you are, and I am definitely more than five years older than you.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Okay, let’s get into this. What do you want? Let’s figure out how to make it happen.”
I start explaining my ultimate goal, tell him about Frankie, mention some of the concerns I have—especially the ones Stone brought up.
As we talk and go back and forth, him scribbling on his notepad, tablet open with additional resources to help us plan, it all feels like it’s truly coming together. It’s truly happening.
Stone was right; having a good agent is everything. With Chuck advocating for me, I have nothing but hope. He doesn’t glaze over potential problems that might arise. Our bullpen is stacked, keeping their arms warm. No matter what steps up to the plate, we’ll be ready.
I take a sip of my coffee and play with the cardboard sleeve on my cup. Frankie’s words from last night filter through my brain.
Do you remember what you were like when we first started? Twitchy and paranoid and terrified.
That was me. That was who I used to be. But it was because I was stuck in an immersion tank, floating in polluted waters. The only oxygen I was allowed was laden with toxins. I breathed it, and it sank into my skin until it consumed me and infected my thoughts. I wasn’t my own person.
Then in walked Frankie. A single look across the bar.
Even in that murky water, I could see him.
He pulled me out, allowed me a breath of fresh, toxin-free air.
And once I was above the surface, I could finally open my eyes and see the possibilities.
The more I chased that, the more I cleansed the poison from my system until I got to where I am right now. No more pollution.
The Jackson Olander I was always meant to be.
Chuck tucks his things into his briefcase and stands. “This was very productive. Thanks for meeting me.” He holds out his hand.
I stand and shake it with a smile.
“It was a pleasure finally meeting you, Jackson.”
Yeah, it really was.