Antonio looked at the note, then back at Jackie. “Now? If he’s enjoying a moment of serenity, I’d hate to interrupt him. If you think you throwing beans is something, Mo is liable to throw the whole table.”
Jackie rolled her eyes and stood up. Before he knew it, she was making a beeline to Mo’s table. Antonio followed this tiny terror of a woman, silently praying that Mo wouldn’t set it off.
Jackie stood quietly next to the table. Mo continued to sip his tea and didn’t look up before speaking. “Hey, no autographs right now, aight?”
Jackie cleared her throat loudly, forcing Mo to look up. He raised a brow and leaned back. “Well, well, if it isn’t Jackie Miles. You mighty tiny without the stilettos.” He clocked Antonio standing near her. “And you brought some muscle this time. Steele, what you doing with this one? Them small-ass shorts are a choice.”
Antonio glanced down at his shorts and laughed. “What’s up, Mo? Actually, Jackie and I work together now.”
Mo sucked his teeth as he moved a toothpick around between them. “I heard—AMW and Elite joining forces to be vultures. I take it you ain’t here to find your nirvana.”
Jackie typed on her phone. The app blared, volume all the way up. “I came here to sign you, Mo. You need me.”
Mo chuckled. “What’s this? You talking through a robot now, Miss Mile-a-Minute? Is this a joke?” He looked around the restaurant. “Who put you up to this?”
Jackie pointed to her throat, frustrated. Antonio stepped up next to her. “Jackie’s voice is out of commission right now, so she’s improvising. But she’s right, Mo. You do need her.”
Mo folded his arms over his broad chest. “So, you all came here to find me? Interrupting my peace and shit to talk money? Who even told you I was here?”
“It doesn’t matter, man.” While Jackie let the app speak for her, she held fierce eye contact with Mo. “We heard about Clyde’s grimy self. That was foul.”
At the mention of Clyde, Mo tensed up. He threw his napkin down and gripped the edge of the table. Antonio was sure Mo could break that table in half with his bare hands, if he wanted to.
“Mo, brother, I respect your peace, but we wouldn’t have taken a chance in coming here if we didn’t believe we could do what Clyde didn’t. Get you bigger purses than you ever had. AMW-Elite isn’t anything like Clyde Donovan. Jackie damn sure isn’t like Clyde. No one would work harder for you.”
Jackie gave Antonio a slight smile. God, he hoped she knew he meant what he said. No one worked harder than Jacqueline Miles.
Jackie took a seat in front of Mo, who averted his eyes. She typed thoughtfully. “We’d never cheat you. I’d never cheat you. I treat my clients like family, Mo.”
“Shit, that’s what they all say! Clyde said that same shit, and I’m millions broker than I was before I met the guy!” Mo paused, taking a deep breath. “See, you getting me outta my enlightened state. Y’all gotta bounce. Real talk!”
“Mo.” Antonio rubbed a hand down his face. “C’mon. Hear Jackie out. You’re on this comeback run. You’re gonna need representation. After all the stuff you’ve been through, someone is going to have to have your back. The Vegas gaming commission is still on the fence about reinstating your license to fight, right?”
Mo cracked his knuckles, reminding Antonio who he was dealing with. “I ain’t getting another agent. I don’t trust you all with your slick talk and promises. I can handle my shit myself. I don’t need y’all.”
Jackie huffed. If there was one thing Jackie hated, Antonio realized, it was stubbornness. Because she was so damn stubborn herself.
Mo pointed at her. “This one thinks she’s slick. Coming here was probably your idea, wasn’t it? Like I told you before, the world of boxing ain’t for you. Little lady, you can’t handle me. So, go on with your tennis and basketball players and shit. Good thing you lost your voice. I don’t wanna hear shit else you got to say. Let me get back to my Zen and shit.”
Jackie was obviously seething as she typed a response, jaw clenched, brow furrowed. Antonio guessed all the stuff they’d learned in the breathwork class just went out the window.
Jackie leaned closer to Mo, getting directly in his face. Taken aback, Mo flinched a little, then ran his tongue across the bottom of his platinum grill. Jackie held up her phone so that it was inches away from him when the app began to speak. “I’m nobody’s little lady. I’m a killer, so you don’t want to push me. Maybe if you hired me back then, instead of thinking I was weak because I was a woman, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. A broken, washed-up boxer, hiding out in an overpriced, fake hippy retreat with musty instructors and no real meat, all because you’re too much of a punk to face reality. You got got, Mo. Get over it. When you’re ready to man up and deal with that, then call me. I may answer.”
Before Mo could respond, Jackie stood up and stormed out of the restaurant. Shit. This could have been their one chance to get Mo on their side, and Jackie’s temper may have blown it. But she had every right to snap on Mo for his blatant sexism.
Antonio turned his attention back to Mo, who looked dumbfounded. “So, it’s like that Mo? Seriously, you won’t even give her a shot?”
“Yeah, bruh, it’s like that.”
Sensing Mo needed to cool down, Antonio turned to follow Jackie. Mo called out after him.
“Why you two down here together? I know you, Steele. You coulda tried to sweet-talk me all by your lonesome. You just as ruthless at Jackie when it comes to getting clients.”
“Honestly?” Antonio shrugged. “I wouldn’t take you on as a client. Jackie’s a better match for you.”
Mo scoffed. “Why? You been an athlete. You know the game. That girl don’t know a damn thing about boxing.”
Antonio thought about Jackie, how she devoted herself to her clients. How she devoted herself to his son. How she knew the world of sports management, inside and out. “That’s what Clyde wanted you to believe. Actually, Jackie knows more about boxing than I ever did. Plus, my roster is full of egos bigger than yours. I don’t need another one.”
