“Nice to see you today, Titan… Sasha.” He nodded. “How’s the shoulder?” He quizzed.
“It’s straight… better than it was in the beginning,” I responded with a nod.
Mr. Reynolds nodded. “We’ve been keeping up with your progress. Glad to hear everything is moving in the right direction.”
I nodded.
The conversation shifted to business after that, and for next fifteen minutes nothing seemed out of the ordinary. We reviewed upcoming appearances, discussed a few projects scheduled for the offseason, and talked through several marketing campaigns that were already in development.
“We’ve covered everything related to our current agreement,” Mr. Reynolds said. “Now we’d like to discuss the future.” He slid a folder across the table toward me. “Specifically, we’d like to discuss extending our partnership.”
I opened the folder and immediately almost choked on my own breath.
“When we first approached you, we were investing in what we believed this relationship could become,” he continued. “Today, we’re investing based on what we’ve already seen. That’s a very different conversation.”
Instead of the original offer of five years and eight million dollars. They wanted to extend the offer for eight years and fifty million dollars along with equity, stating that I would be theofficial Global Ambassador. Shit like this didn’t happen every day.
“We’re not expecting an answer today. We want you and your team to take your time, review everything, and come back with any questions you may have.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I uttered.
“Say you and your team will think about it,” he countered with a smile.
I stood and shook his hand along with a few of his colleagues before Sasha and I headed out. When we made it to the elevator, I looked down at her.
“What the fuck, Sash?” I questioned. This shit still seemed too good to be true.
“It’s the beginning of a legacy, and it couldn’t have come at a better time.” She smirked. I knew she was talking about the baby, and I had to agree that she was right.
Once we made it downstairs, we said our goodbyes and parted ways. The first thing I did when I got in my car was call Tink. This news was too big to keep until I made it back home.
“Hello…” her fine ass cooed through the phone.
“Wassup, baby? What you in there doing?”
“Fixing this baby a chicken club sandwich,” she countered.
I shook my head because Tink never shied away from food before the baby, now that shit was amplified, but I wasn’t even mad about that shit.
“I hope you made one for me too,” I added.
“I plan on it, but I can’t promise it’ll be here by the time you get back,” she giggled.
“That’s fucked up, Tink… but check it. I’m just leaving the meeting and guess what the fuck happened?” I started.
“What?”
“They offered your boy an extension to my existing contract with them,” I stated.
“What does that mean?” She asked anxiously.
“It means we come up fifty million dollars, is what it means.” I beamed.
My contract with the Cannons was sweet, but I was never in a position to turn down some money, especially with a growing family.
“Tink…” I called out because she hadn’t said anything.
“Ye-yeah, I’m still here. This is good. I’m happy for you,” she complimented.
