Manny snorted, “More like Frazier-Ali. And we all know who won that one, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart?Jackie rolled her eyes. She hated when men attempted to humble women with pet names when they felt threatened. She’d rather be cursed at. But like Ali, she had Manny on the ropes. She just had to go in for the TKO. Jackie leaned across the table, lowering her voice app to a whisper. “Well,hun, we can keep comparing our fighters to the greats. Or we can hash out a deal for a real fight. Otherwise, you’ll just have to keep paying fighters to take a dive.”
Jackie had reviewed a few of Ramón’s last fights. The last one with O’Sullivan had been particularly interesting. Ramón was actually losing around round five. She observed as O’Sullivan went to his corner, his trainer speaking in really hushed tones. Then, in the next round, it was as if he was faltering. He was landing softball punches; many of them weren’t even connecting. It made no sense, because he’d been connecting with a combination of those same punches in earlier rounds. Suddenly, Ramón hit him with an uppercut that normally would have barely rocked O’Sullivan, but he went down in dramatic fashion. A littletoodramatic. That had prompted Jackie to review another fight, then another. The same thing was happening. That was when Jackie knew that the fix was probably in. A deeper dive into Guzman uncovered a lot more, like his shaky financials and debts that were inching up. He needed Ramón as his sure thing, which was a dangerous game to play.
Manny spit out his toothpick and stared at Jackie. “You need to watch what you’re saying,paquita.”
“Ramón is your golden goose. Paying off fighters because Ramón doesn’t have real competition? Because you don’t want to take a risk? You can’t keep on doing that.” Jackie ran a hand over her nape, second-guessing whether she should have said any of that. But she pressed on, typing, “Listen, I’m not trying to snitch on you to the boxing commission. That’s not my style. I’m here for my client. Mo is a draw, and you know it.”
“So…you’re threatening me?” Manny asked, a little less bravado in his voice. “Wow, I didn’t know Elite hired such killers.”
“They don’t. Just me.” She winked. “But I never threaten. Only persuade. And it’s in your favor to say yes to this, Manny. Say yes so you don’t have to sink to the depths of hell, because if you keep going this route, that’s where you’re going to end up. And where will Ramón be, then?”
Manny ran a hand through his inky black hair. “You’re asking me to take a risk that may blow up in both of our faces.”
“No risk, no reward, right? I thought you were the great Manny Guzman. Don’t tell me you’re scared?”
Manny waited for Jackie’s app to finish speaking, then laughed bitterly. “First you sweet-talk me, then you threaten me. Now you punk me? Wow, Jackie, you really are vicious.”
Jackie sipped her mojito and typed. “They don’t call me The Viper for nothing.” And honestly…she kind of liked being compared to a quiet yet vicious snake.
Manny sat back in his chair and shook his head. “Okay. What’s my buy-in here? I need to see something I can get with. Dollar-wise.”
Jackie genuinely smiled, probably for the first time that day. She typed quickly in the app, “I’m glad you asked. Let’s go over some numbers.” Jackie pulled out a tablet. She tried to hand the tablet to Manny, but he held up his hand in protest.
“Ah! Not without you trying some of the best Cuban food outside of Havana.” Manny called the waitress over. “Bring Jackie some vaca frita. All the fixings, mamita. And another mojito for her and Cuba Libre for me.”
Jackie waved her hands in protest. Although the food smelled divine, she was entirely too wired to eat.
“Trust me, we are going to be here a while if you’re trying to work through this. You’re going to want to eat,paquita,” Manny said. He wiped his hands on his napkin. “Now hand me the tablet. Let’s see what you’re cooking up.”
CHAPTER 36
Antonio watched as PJ sat in the makeup chair at WWSN, getting touched up. PJ’s leg was bouncing nervously. Antonio had hoped getting to the studio early would help, but it didn’t. PJ was as jittery as ever. Antonio was praying the nerves wouldn’t show on camera once the interview started.
PJ looked at him in the mirror. “Yo dawg, you hovering around is what’s making me nervous.”
“My bad,” Antonio said. “Just trying to stay close in case you need me.”
Antonio knew all this confidence and arrogance PJ was exuding was an act. He knew because that used to be his own go-to tactic when he was nervous as hell. He and his son had a lot in common. But he wouldn’t push. He’d give PJ some space if that was what he needed.
