I huff. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
He leans back in his seat and strums his fingers on the table, eyes laser-focused on me. I’ll hold his gaze for as long as he wants me to without blinking. No one intimidates me, even the man who gets me my deals.
“You’re roughly four years from retirement, at best.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Putting me out to pasture already?”
His lips thin. He’s never been one for my grumpy ass, but he came to me all those years ago. He wanted me, and over the years, he’s reaped a lot of benefits from it.
“Put your pride on a shelf for a second. My job is to make you as much money as I can doing what you love. And when those days are nearing a close, I feel responsible to set you up for the future.”
“Ah… that’s sweet, Daddy.”
He gives me his cut-the-shit expression I’m very familiar with, and I turn away from him, trying to remember that he only wants what’s best and he’s not judging me. He’s not my dad lecturing me about my work ethic or the pitch I threw in the seventh that gave up the game.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
He shakes his head with that disapproving father look except there’s still affection in his eyes, something I’d never find in my own dad’s. “You need an endorsement, Foster. A really good endorsement.”
I open my mouth, but he continues.
“I’m not sure how you are with your money. You’ve had some great contracts. Sure, this last one wasn’t what you were looking for, but it got you out of Seattle, which was our main goal. Chicago’s management wanted you. You’re the reason Vega was out as manager, because he wouldn’t entertain you coming to the Colts. So, you’re still wanted, and that’s all that matters in this business, but there’s going to come a time when you aren’t. You’ll have your own feelings about that at the time, and my job is to make sure you can survive while you’re lost in your pity party. That you can support a wife and kids.”
I scoff.
“Oh yeah, I forgot you’re too cool for a family, right?”
“Some people aren’t meant to be a husband, let alone a father.”
He sighs and stares at me a long time, then shakes his head again. “I’ve told you this before, and I’m going to say it again—clean up your act.”
My forehead wrinkles. “I have.”
He glares at me.
“I’ve been good about my temper on the mound.”
“Let’s be honest, it’s the Hayes effect.”
I stare off because he’s right to an extent. Having Hayes behind the plate and working with him has calmed me, which doesn’t bode well for the fact that I want to bend his sister over any available surface and shove my dick in her.
“Still. My trouble outside?—”
“You and your brother got in a brawl outside Webber Field last year.”
I sigh. “He hit me first in case it matters.”
He holds up his hand. “You haven’t had an endorsement since your first year in the league. Let’s make this the year you get one. Be a good teammate, don’t lose your temper, and keep all the shit off the field quiet. You hate Decker. I don’t give a shit.” He hums. “I do, but that’s a conversation for another time.”
I know Jagger has a point. I’m good with my money, I am, but there’s a big dent in it now. I’ve always wanted endorsements. Some players earn a shit ton. And some endorsements go long past retirement. Let’s be honest, I don’t have a ton of job qualities past throwing a really great fastball and slider.
I let out a long breath. “Let me know what I need to do.”
He smiles, and the server brings our food to the table. Jagger swings his tie so it rests over his shoulder. The man is everything I usually hate. What people must think seeing the two of us at the same table. With my neck and hand tattoos, they probably think I’m a felon and he’s my lawyer, trying to negotiate me a plea deal. We couldn’t be more opposite, and in all honesty, Jagger Kale is the first guy in a suit I learned to trust. When he first showed up at one of my games and said he wanted to represent me, I walked right past him.
I didn’t want some guy in a three-piece suit, wearing a watch worth more than my dad made in a year. Figured I was just a paycheck to him. But Jagger showed up again and again. Eventually I listened, and even though my dad said we didn’t need him, I’ve never regretted giving Jagger the opportunity to represent me. I’ve put him through enough shit to earn my respect.
“You baseball players always need me to dumb it down for you. Hayes was the same.”
