Chapter 2: Onyx
I watched her as she left the boardroom, her head held high, her cheeks bright with color. It wasn’t with embarrassment; it was anger, and I hid my smile as I watched her slip out the door, closing it quietly behind her.
She was full of shit.
I knew how bad her temper was, and I knew it would have taken her immense restraint not to slam the door behind her. Actually, that was juvenile. Angel wasn’t juvenile; she wouldn’t slam the door. She’d quite happily slam my head off the door if she thought she would get away with it, but for that display of temper, I’m betting she would punch me first.
I’d been on the receiving end of her fist once before, and it still made me laugh when I thought about it. Angel was whiter than white. She was so pale that she gave the impression she was frail. She wasn’t frail; she was ruthless and cunning, and her slender frame, long black hair that hit her ass, and her paleness gave people the wrong impression of delicacy.
She was as delicate as a stiletto to the back of the head. Only Angel wouldn’t hit you from behind, which was one of the only things I liked about her. The fact was that she would look you square in the eye when she knifed you in the heart.
My attention returned to the boardroom as Neil droned on about the potential clients we were either pursuing, trying to keep, or trying to lose.
Being a sports agent had never been my calling when I was younger. I went to college playing football like my father before me and like my brothers and cousin after me. I was already aware of how good my younger brothers were. The twins excelled at most things, but put a football in their hands and they shone. Jett and Gray were going to explode in professional football with the right team and the right coach. Add in ourcousin Ash, and they were an offensive line to fear. During my junior year of high school, as I watched and waited for the scouts for myself, I started really listening to my uncle when he spoke about good representation. In my freshman year of college, I focused on sports management. I was good at the game, but by then, I knew the twins and Ash were better, and I would not allow anyone to take advantage of them.
If that made me an overprotective prick, I didn’t really care.
My dad and my uncle both played. Uncle Kage went on to play for several years, but my dad never made it past the draft. Through choice. A bad choice, but a choice, nevertheless.
He chose love. My mom, or Sable as I called her, asked him not to go pro, scared she would lose him. And . . . he agreed.
My snort of disgust in the boardroom was loud, and I ignored the attention I brought myself. Thankfully, that weakness had passed me by, and Jett too, but my brother Gray worried me that he had too much of my dad’s sentimentality, and I watched him like a hawk. Jett would be fine; he knew how to play the game, and even currently besotted with his girlfriend, I knew Jett’s focus had never wavered from his goal, which was to play professionally.
Gray’s might. Ash . . . he was good, better than good, but he also enjoyed his studies, and I kept a close eye on him, too, for other reasons.
I’d worked too long and too hard to get them in the position of where they were today. Scouts were already looking at them,allof them, and they had just finished their sophomore year of college. Twenty years old, and pro scouts were checking out their games.
Thinking back on Angel’s last challenge to me a few weeks ago, I frowned. She said she had a team lined up for all three of them. The same team. I’d sent out all the feelers, double-checkedeverything, and I had no idea which team she had been speaking to.
So, when Trent Hudson called late Friday night looking for his potential new sports agent, Angel Balan, to talk about her proposed contract, instead of being a good team player and passing on the message, I flew out to Colorado on Saturday morning and had him signed with me by Saturday evening. She’d left the contract with legal to double-check it. All I needed to do was tweak it to suit my needs and replace her name with mine.
Taking a sip of my water, I relished my victory. It was shitty, it was mean, but it was the same company he was signing with, just a different sports agent within that agency.
“Onyx?”
My attention snapped to Neil. “Yeah?”
“Help Johnathan with the proposed sponsorship deal for Winters. I don’t like the fine print,” he said as he looked around the room.
“Winters . . . the hockey player?” I asked, turning to look at my colleague.
“Yeah,” Johnathan said, and I noted his body language. “He’smyclient, Onyx.”
My smile made him whiten until he was almost as pale as Angel. “We’re all the same team though, right?”
Which was bullshit. They got paid a salary here, but their money was made from the deals they got their clients and the cut they took. Hockey allowed up to four percent for fees. I didn’t particularly delve too much into hockey, but Slade Winters was an exciting up-and-coming player, and good sponsorship deals for him meant potentially more clients for us.
“I’ll look after we’re finished here. Send it to me.”
He didn’t look happy, and Neil noticed. “Send it to Angel,” he amended without looking at me. “And Onyx.”
Johnathan nodded slowly, and I knew he wasn’t happy, and I also didn’t care.
“Anyone else have anything they need to share?” Neil asked as he looked around the room. “No? Okay, have a great day. My door is always open.”
I remained seated while my co-workers got their things together and left. Relaxed in my seat, I watched as the man who fronted my company tidied his papers and then placed his tablet on top of them.
“Dick move,” he said when the door was closed.
