CHAPTER 9
Jackie was on her walking pad in her office. It was where she did her best thinking. Armed with a Doechii playlist and a pair of sneakers, she was trying her best to get her brain together.
She’d done her darndest to avoid Antonio around the office, only speaking to him in meetings, as necessary.
When he attempted to corner her, she made up every excuse in the book to get out of his presence.
Truthfully, she wasn’t mad about the photo shoot with Louis St. Jean.
She was over that. What she was upset about were the sex dreams and fantasies, which had become more frequent and progressively dirtier.
She’d gone through two vibrators in a matter of weeks, their motors shot to hell.
She was browsing a baseball scouting report when her cell phone rang. It was Tanika on FaceTime. Jackie answered with her usual greeting.
“Time…is…money. What’s up?” she said as she slowed down the pace.
Tanika shook her head. “You have a full gym in your house. You also belong to that swanky gym in Atlantic Station. Why don’t you work out there?”
“Nik, what do you want? Let me guess, you and Gideon eloped. Good, because I don’t want to try and squeeze myself into a dress I’m never going to wear again.”
Tanika blinked. “Why the hell would I call you randomly with that? And you are squeezing your big booty in whatever dress I say. Anyway, I called with a scoop. You might want to stop walking for this.”
Curious, Jackie stepped off her walking pad, leaning her phone against a dying succulent on her desk. How she was able to kill a succulent, she’d never know. “What’s the tea? Which one of my clients did something stupid that’s about to be national news?”
“Nope, not this time. I’m about to make you and AMW-ELITE headline news for a minute. Guess who needs representation?”
Jackie folded her arms across her chest, careful not to wrinkle her shantung top. “Tanika, stop with the guessing games. Tell me who it is, or I’m hanging up.”
“Mo Williams.”
Jackie froze. “Are you serious?”
Mo Williams was a former middleweight world champion.
Years ago, she had tried to sign him to Elite, but he declined and chose an up-and-coming agent named Clyde Donovan.
Jackie never liked Clyde. He seemed slicker than a snake oil salesman, and she felt like Mo deserved better.
When Mo got into some legal trouble a while back and lost his titles, Jackie was grateful that she hadn’t taken him on as a client; he was unpredictable, with a temper that could be set off for any reason.
But it still never sat right with her that Clyde was in Mo’s circle, letting his career falter.
“Yep,” continued Tanika. “Dead serious. The blotter came across my desk today. He fired Clyde Donovan on suspicion of theft. To the tune of 7.8 million. Clyde’s going to go down for sure. And it’s a shame, because Mo was in the middle of trying to make a comeback.”
“I knew it!” Jackie fumed, stomping her feet.
“I knew Clyde was a liar from the moment I met him. Damn, I hate that Mo got taken like that. I hope Clyde’s ass goes to prison for a while.
And not the cushy, Martha Stewart kind of prison.
” She moved toward her desk to get her other iPad, aiming to gather some notes and find contact information for Mo.
“Thanks, Tanika! I need to try and put together some things to present to—”
“Hold on, not so fast,” Tanika interrupted. “Now, I came to you with some juicy information. Info that could make you bank. You need to do something for me.”
Jackie squinted at her screen. Tanika hardly ever asked for favors, so this must have been something big. “What is it, Nik?”
“This is what I tried to bring up with you before. I want the exclusive interview with PJ Dawson, right before the Rookie of the Year nominations come out.”
“Damn, Tanika! Why you gotta ask me for that? I told you that he isn’t really the exclusive interview type.”
Jackie sighed, remembering the last interview PJ did with Sports Illustrated. He was rambling, avoiding personal questions, and not as smooth as she’d have liked him to be. She’d had to step in and end the interview early before things got ugly.
“Yeah, but we are the ones who can do the interview right. C’mon Jackie! I scratched your back; you gotta scratch mine!”
“You’re asking me to do more than scratch your back, girl! You’re asking me to…hell, I don’t know…jerk you off with one hand tied behind my back.”
Tanika frowned. “That is a very specific analogy. You’ve done that before, haven’t you, you little freak?”
“Tanika, I’m hanging up.” Jackie motioned to end the call, but Tanika began to whine.
“Seriously, Jackie! I’m your best friend and about to be your family! Do this for me! Please!” Tanika was pouting and batting her big brown eyes behind her glasses.
Jackie tilted her head. “I know you didn’t pull out the bestie and cousin-in-law cards. You’re very manipulative, heifer!”
“And you love me,” Tanika grinned. “I’m telling you it’ll be a top-notch, classy interview. A Primetime special. I’ll even let you see the questions ahead of time. I never do that.”
Jackie was surprised. Tanika must have wanted this exclusive with PJ pretty badly. “WWSN isn’t the only sports channel who’d be interested in an exclusive. Besides, you’re asking me to commit to something that’s months from now—who knows what’ll happen before then.”
“I’m trying to get a jump on it. As soon as the Rookie candidates hit, the bidding wars for exclusives are going to ramp up. I want in on this.”
“I take it you’re coming out of retirement to do this? Okay then, Barbara Walters Winfrey!”
“Uhm, no. Sara is going to do it!”
Jackie pursed her lips. Sara Taylor, Tanika’s rival-turned-protege, was now a friend, but Jackie didn’t really trust her as a reporter. She was too new. Too green.
“Before you object,” Tankika said, “trust me Jack; she’s ready. The girl has been studying day and night in the event that she got a shot. I’ll help her prepare. Please, girl! You know I don’t like to beg!”
Jackie leaned against the other corner of her desk. Tanika really had come through with the scoop about Mo. “Fine. I won’t make any promises, but I’ll ask PJ, under one condition.”
Tanika squealed. “Anything.”
Jackie’s lips lifted into a slow grin. “You have to let me take you wedding dress shopping.”
Tanika huffed. “Ugh! I told you I don’t want a wedding dress.”
Jackie was amused. She knew her best friend. No matter how hard she was pretending otherwise, this woman wanted to feel like a bride. “Need I remind you of the vision board you made one night, back in Bumstead Hall? You had your wedding planned down to the groom.”
“And am I marrying Larenz Tate? Nope,” laughed Tanika. “I was nineteen and naive as hell. I’m almost forty-five, Jack. No more little girl daydreams of fairytale weddings.”
“Says the girl who got her prince charming? Just…indulge me,” Jackie said. “I’m not saying you have to get a dress; just try some on. I don’t want you to be cheated out of the experience.”
“Fine,” Tanika sighed. “But I’m going to try on a black dress.”
Over her dead body. But Jackie wouldn’t argue that point. “It’s a deal.”
JACKIE RUSHED DOWN THE HALL TOWARD PATRICK’S OFFICE.
SHE didn’t need his permission to sign Mo, but she did want to give him a heads-up.
She was so laser-focused as she walked that she didn’t realize she had company until another hand was on the door.
A massive, deep brown hand that she knew too well.
Antonio.
“Listen, I don’t have time for your games, Antonio. I have to talk to Patrick about something important, and I was here first.”
“Uh-huh,” Antonio didn’t step out of the way. “And what if I want to talk to him about the same thing?”
Jackie put her hands on her hips. She watched as Antonio’s eyes went right to her waist. “You have no idea what I’m up to,” she said.
But Jackie couldn’t even front. Antonio probably did know about Mo dropping his agent.
He knew many people in a lot of places. He had friends in damn-near every facet of sports.
People loved Antonio. It was what made him great at being an agent.
He leaned against the doorframe. “Wanna bet? Let’s both go inside and make our cases.”
Jackie scoffed. “I don’t need to make a case. I’m going to do what I want regardless. I’m just giving Patrick a heads-up.”
“I mean, common courtesy is always nice. We are one firm now. Gotta be on the same page.” Antonio smiled, showing a dimple right above his goatee.
Jackie glared. “Do you think anyone in this damned firm practices common courtesy when it comes to me? No, they don’t.” Jackie had learned her lesson early on, about the dangers of sharing her prospects with anyone. So-called supportive colleagues had scooped too her many times.
Antonio sighed. “I get it, but that isn’t how I roll, Jackie. C’mon now. You know me.”
“Do I?” She knocked on the door and waited for Patrick to answer before she opened. She didn’t bother to wait for Antonio to follow her inside.
Patrick looked up from his laptop. “Hey Jackie. Oh, hey Antonio. What’s up? Have a seat.”
Jackie waved him off. “This won’t take long. I’m going to sign Mo Williams to AMW-Elite. He’s without representation, and he’s trying to rebuild his career. And—”
“And despite his legal hassles,” interrupted Antonio, “it’ll be a win for the firm. He’s a hell of a fighter. Still in fighting shape.”
Jackie’s neck whipped in Antonio’s direction. Her nostrils flared. Why the hell did he always do that? She didn’t need back up. She was a big girl.
“It’s been two years since his last title fight, though,” Patrick interjected. “And it was a disaster. He wasn’t focused. He nearly got pummeled out there.”
“That was Mo two years ago,” Jackie countered. “Mo today is trying to make a comeback. He won every fight this past year. Yet, in the midst of his triumphant return, Clyde was stealing from him. Bleeding him dry.”