We got ready, had breakfast, reassured the team I was okay and wouldn’t push it so hard today, and then we finally got to work.
Despite how yesterday afternoon had turned out, I was having a blast.
There were some cocky assholes on the court, which was how I’d got a little too involved and enthused yesterday. But sometimes, a twenty-year-old hotshot who thought he was all that needed taking down a peg or two.
Thank Christ I’d managed that and hadn’t had a spell on the court when showing Lincoln how the pros did it and that he definitely wasn’t the king of the court. But I’d suffered the consequences because of it. I ignored the taunting voice in my head that mumbled something about keeping my own ego in check.
I spent the morning with Eddie and a group of the guys, giving directions, running drills and plays. After a short break, we gathered, and the guys played a few games. My cell vibrated just as we were about to start a new set of drills, and I tugged it out. Greg was calling.
Giving my apologies to Eddie, I stepped out of range and climbed a few steps before taking a seat and answering. “Hey, Greg.”
“Jayden, how are things? You settling in?”
I smiled. “Absolutely. There’s a really good bunch of guys here. Facilities are great. Everything okay over there?”
“Yeah, just thought I’d give you an update on the Axle thing.”
“You get a chance to speak to Marshall?” Ken Marshall was my lawyer, with a reputation for being a shark. He was worth every penny of his crazy fees.
“Sure did. Unfortunately, your contract is ironclad. Axle is perfectly in their rights to cancel and—”
“You’re shittin’ me. How is that—”
“Jayden, just let me finish, yeah?”
I sighed and stretched out my legs. “Sorry, yeah, go on.”
“So their contract is airtight, and it was just shit timing it was at renewal time. But, backing out of the verbal deal just as you came out is clearly bad form and raises all manner of questions. Marshall jumped all over that, and while there’s no chance of them offering you a new contract—”
“I don’t want one with them.”
He sighed at my outburst. “—they have agreed to a five-year contract directly with the charity, agreeing to a 6 percent donation over the five years.”
Something loosened in my chest. “For real?”
“Yes. Marshall has spoken to the charities lawyer and managed to get all of that locked up tight.”
I huffed out a relieved breath. “That’s fucking awesome. Thanks, Greg.”
“No worries. Just remind me never to get on the wrong side of Marshall,” he said with a chuckle. “The man is a fiend with contract law.”
“I really appreciate it, Greg.”
“I’ve also started to look around for a couple of endorsements for you.”
“Please make sure they’re not assholes.”
He snorted. “I’ll try. I’m assuming you want to still look for a charity tie-in?”
“Definitely.” One of my uncles was treated for testicular cancer seven years back, and knowing Bounce Your Balls still had funding was brilliant. Maybe it was time to refocus my effort. “Let me think about charities, okay?”
“Absolutely. I do have a couple of ideas. Obviously, we can go the LGBTQ+ route. I know there are so many great but underfunded charities around. Or we can focus on something closer to home and your mom. If that’s too close for you, I can keep searching.”
Contentment eased through me, so grateful for this life I had, the opportunities it gave me. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”
“Sounds good. Have you guys thought any more about your official statement yet?”
I groaned.
