Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Josue
Waiting all day on his phone call, I told Sierra that if she wanted to listen in on our negotiation, that she had to be back at least an hour ago.
She told me she was getting her hair done, but how long did it take for some retwists and a style?
When Vega’s number popped up, I didn't have time to wait on her, but as soon as it was on speaker, I heard someone coming through the front door.
“Mendez?”
“Yeah, it's me. I've been waiting all day to hear from you. What do you got for me?” I started, as Sierra attempted to walk by me in this short red and white mini dress that I know for damn sure she didn't leave the house in.
“Hold on, give me a second.” I put the call on mute, pulling her back by the wrist. “Wait, hold on. Where are you going?” Her giggles doing nothing to hide her intentions.
“Oh my god, Josue, stop!” She fought, as I tried to pull her on my lap.
“Your hair looks nice, mama. You went shopping today too?” I asked, biting my lip at the way said dress hugged her body.
“Just a few things. I wanted to celebrate if you got me a good deal.”
“You walking in like that, I don't know what kind of celebrating you trying to get into that involves leaving this house? Fuck, if this wasn't Vega on the phone, I would have torn that ass up. Let me see if he'll let me call him back—”
“No, you have him now. Run me my money,” she playfully argued, sitting down next to me on the couch, agreeing to be silent while we handled all things money.
“Alright now, you're talking about run me my money.
I get off this phone, you better run me that pussy.
I don't want to hear shit,” I argued, taking Vega off mute to let the negotiation begin.
I was half expecting him to lowball me, but call me surprised when he started off not completely insulting me.
“So, I want things to be fair. I was thinking we can make the split 60/40.” Sierra playfully wiggled in the space next to me, happy that it was even that high. But I got her to calm down. If that was what he was offering out the gate, he could do better.
“If you wanted it to be fair, we'd be agreeing to 50/50. Unless 60 is the percent my girl's getting.” I argued, as she mouthed to me, “That's right, that's right!”
“Come on, Mendez,” Vega laughed on the other end. “My girl's more seasoned. She's the headliner. People are coming to see her.” I snickered, as Sierra made a mad face at me.
“How much you want to bet when my fighter does her walk out, the crowd will be frantic, cheering her on and howling in their seats.” Sierra cupped her hands over her mouth, imitating a fake howl that was now part of her crowd chant. I had to do everything not to laugh.
“So, your girl's got a gimmick. So, what? DaCosta’s more experienced. She deserves to be paid what she's worth.” At that, Sierra pouted as I leaned in and I gave her a small kiss along her fingertips.
“Yeah, but Medina’s the underdog. People love a fucking underdog.
I'm gonna make sure she gets paid for the growth and love she's been getting.
Plus, have you seen the girl's Insta? Twice the amount of followers than your girl.
Probably 'cause she's prettier.” She hit me across the shoulder, as I pressed my fingers to her lips to shush her.
“Well, it’s a good thing this isn't a beauty contest, Mendez. Your fighter doesn't have a belt.” She mouthed the words, “Neither does she!” Her expression turning whimsically angry.
“Well from where I'm standing, DaCosta’s waist looks pretty empty too,” I fired back, her hand meeting mine in a high five.
“Come on, Mendez. What is this really about?” His question keeping us from solidifying an agreement.
He knew what it was. No one just accepted the first deal you were offered.
He could get 60/40 from any other fighter, but he wanted Teresa to fight Sierra for the hype surrounding it.
I wasn't hanging up until it was half and half.
“This ain't about nothing but business. Medina has accomplished too much for me to accept less than half.
DaCosta, if she loses, the girl's gonna be all right.
I'm trying to set my girl up in a case of a potential loss fucks with her stats,” I admitted, Sierra's expression shifting woefully anxious.
“You know what the real draw is? Everyone wants to see a Mendez/Vega rematch,” he argued, and that I was painfully aware of.
I wasn’t risking my vision for some showdown.
I had accepted my loss years ago, and had too many titles and blessings to call myself a failure.
I had my run, and I didn't regret a single thing about the life I was living now.
“Yeah, well, tough shit, because nobody's getting that. Best I can do, is my training against yours. Whose training will come out on top.” He laughed, having me rethink that whole rematch with a parking lot jab to the face.
“Just remember, I beat you, Mendez. I hope you don't expect anything less with my talent.”
“?Mira! You're not throwing anything in my face I don't already know.
You want me to admit that you were the better fighter?
In that moment, you were. But I've got something special with my girl.
I wouldn't risk putting her up against DaCosta if I didn't think she could win. My girl's gonna give yours a fight.”
Sierra brought her hands together in a prayer, as I rolled my eyes and covered the phone. “No crying,” I whispered. “I told you about that shit.” Her lips thinned, resting her chin on her fist as a conversation moved forward.
“Well, if you're that damn confident, fuck it. 50/50 it is.” I pumped my fist, glad that I'd held out, as Medina wiggled excitedly in her seat.
“You got yourself a deal,” I said, ending the call and giving Medina a hug. “?Puneta*! I thought it'd take him forever to get there. Shit, now take that dress off. I'm gonna fuck you right on this couch.”
“Boy. Why don't you take off your clothes?” she demanded, as I stood pulling off my shirt and pants.
"You see how I don't argue with you. See how I just listen when you ask me to do something?” I said, leaning in for a kiss as I lowered to my knees. "You might want to try it sometime. You might get laid more,” I joked. “Now come here, let's get a head start on that, celebrating.”
* Has many uses, and no true translation, but it’s like saying thing, but how it’s said matters. In this case, it’s a swear