What the fuck is wrong with his agent?
“I understand that, but this is a huge sponsorship. I already counter offered, and they accepted it. I don’t think we should rock the—”
Grabbing the phone, I hang up.
This asshole is screwing my brother out of money because he can’t locate his nuts and play some hardball.
“Give me the number for your contact at Sports Zone.”
Eyes wide, Asher pulls it up on his cell and hands it back to me.
Someone picks up after the second ring. “John Fina.”
“Hello, John. I’m calling on behalf of Asher Holden. I know you spoke with his agent earlier, but Asher isn’t signing that contract.”
“I’m sorry,” the guy says, clearly taken aback. “Is there a problem with the new contract?”
“Yeah,” I scoff. “The money is the problem. Or rather, the lack of money.”
“I see.” I hear papers shuffling on his desk. “However, that was just a jumping-off point. We’re still willing to negotiate.”
Good. Because I’m willing to make him put his money where his mouth is.
“Fine. Does ten million work for you?”
Asher nearly chokes on his tongue.
John inhales sharply. “That’s a little steep…”
Not when it comes to the best.
“You do understand that he’s the league’s top quarterback, right? He also has the top-selling jersey in the nation. Five million followers on Twitter. But hey, if you’re willing to lose all that—”
“We’re not.”
I smile…because I’ve got him right where I want him.
“That’s what I thought. Make it eleven million.”
“You just said ten?” John sputters.
The fucker should have accepted my first offer. Rookie mistake.
“I raised.”
I can almost feel the bullets he’s sweating right now. “That’s a lot. I’ll have to discuss it with my associates.”
He’s bluffing.
“You know what, John? Forget it. We’re not accepting the deal.”
I’m about to hang up, but then he stammers, “Eleven million. We’ll do eleven million.”
Goddamn right you will.
“Deal. Send Asher the new contract directly and we’ll look over it this evening.”
I hang up and look at my brother. “Your agent sucks. I got you to eleven, but I would have gone down to eight.”
Asher stands. “You mean my former agent. Because you just took his job.”
I mull this over in my head for a bit. Fuck knows I could use the money…and a real job.
“That depends. How much does it pay?”
“Ten percent.”
I stare him down. “Fifteen.”
Asher meets it head-on. “Eleven.”
“Twelve,” I counter. “With benefits, since I have a wife.”
Asher snorts. “A wife who’s a billionaire.”
Not yet, she isn’t. But even still, I want to make sure she’s taken care of.
I raise. “Fifteen. Take it or leave it.”
Asher knows I mean business because he folds. “Deal. I’ll fire Joe tonight.”
My lips twitch as I shake his hand. “I would have settled for ten.”
Asher smirks. “I would have done twenty.”
I store that kernel of information in my noggin for the future.
His expression turns serious. “I made a mistake, Preston. But I have every intention of fixing it.”
“What do you mean?”
Nothing can fix what happened.
“You’ll see.”
I’m about to ask him for details, but there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Asher says.
“Sorry. Just wanted to let you know we’re back—” Breslin’s jaw hits the floor when she opens the door.
“What the hell happened in here?” Landon questions behind her.
Asher and I exchange a glance…and then we both shrug.
“We talked,” I grind out, leaving it at that.
Asher slaps my back. “Say hello to my new agent.”
Breslin and Landon nod slowly as they process this.
“I’m gonna go fix us some lunch,” Breslin says.
“And then after we can clean up in here,” Landon adds before they walk away.
I head out next. “Get that hand looked at.”
“Wait,” Asher calls out.
I halt my steps. “What’s up?”
“I love you, little brother.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to shut the fuck up and stop being a sissy…but I don’t.
“Love you, too.” I reach for the doorknob. “Shithead.”
Chapter 56
Preston
“How is he?” I ask after Charlotte picks up.
“He’s doing a lot better.”
Despite her words, there’s a hint of hesitancy in her voice.
“What’s wrong?”
She sighs. “He misses you.”
It’s a sucker punch to the chest. “I miss him, too.” I clear my throat. “Has Becca been around?”
At that, she lets out a humorless laugh. “Nope. Jameson is practically living with me full time now. I even took him to class with me the other day.”
Shit. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I just wish Becca would stop being such a bitch and let you see Jameson.”
Her and me both. “Yeah. I’m still trying to come up with a plan to make that happen.”
Because the one I had went out the window. There’s no way she’ll accept anything from me now.
I’ve tried calling her every day since the hospital, hoping she’ll have a change of heart—even though that would require her having one of those to begin with—but she blocked my number.
I’d show up at her apartment, but I’m afraid she’ll make good on her threat about calling the cops and getting a restraining order.
Which means the only thing I can do is call Charlotte every day to find out how he is.
It’s not enough. Not even close.
But at least it’s something.
“Where is he now?”
“He’s taking a nap, but I can wake him up if you want to say hi.”
Probably best to let him sleep. “That’s okay. I’ll call back tomorrow.”
“Okay. Maybe we can meet up for lunch soon so you can see him.”
I appreciate it, but her offer is a catch-22.
Charlotte is my only link to Jameson right now. But if Jameson ever mentioned to Becca that she took him to see me…it would cut that off.
Then I’ll be left with nothing. It’s a risk I’m not willing to take.
“Give him a hug for me, okay?”
“Will do.”
Kit breezes into the living room as I’m hanging up the phone. “Stop whatever you’re doing and turn on the television.”
I grab the remote off the coffee table. “Why?”
She plops down next to me on the couch. “Put it on the sports channel. Right now.”