She flips through some papers she has in front of her, looking for the answer, and I take a sip of coffee while I wait.
“Hmm, I just had it…” She runs her finger over the paper and taps it. “Ah, there it is. Jethro Porter.”
I nearly choke on my coffee in surprise. “Jet is the mayor?”
She looks up in surprise. “You know the mayor?”
I nod my head. “I do. We went to high school together. Well, he was a year ahead of me. But yeah, we did the rodeo school together.”
“Huh, well, maybe that can make this simple.”
It was not simple.
Jethro Porter, a.k.a. Jet, is not the same guy he used to be, and according to the slight graying of his temples, he seems to have a lot of stress on his hands.
He stands in front of me, smiling at first with his hand tucked into a pricey-looking suit. “It’s great to see you, Jax. It’s been too long.”
“Right back atcha,” I reply with a nod.
“I’m sorry that I can’t approve the rodeo school. It’s just not a good time for it,” he says, and I feel the woman beside me wilt with disappointment.
Can’t say I blame her. It is eating at me too.
“Is it primarily budgetary?” Bonnie asks, keeping a professional head while I wanted to call Jet an asshole.
“It is the budget, but there’s also the safety of kids. We’re opening up the risk when we start something like that.”
“Listen, Jet, I’ve been doing rodeo for years. I have a ton of experience under my belt now.” I point to my chest. “I’m willing to do this by the book, get waivers signed, get programs going, teach kids who want to be a part of it the safe way to do it.”
“Weren’t you a bullfighter?” Jet asks, taking a step back in his office and leaning against his desk. It was us two against him, but I swear the man had the upper hand in just about everything right now.
“Yes, I was. Which means I’ve had extensive training,” I say, holding my hand up. “I’m qualified to teach people how to do this right.”
He shakes his head and frowns. “It’s just not the right time.”
Just then, his door bursts open, and a kid no older than eight barges in, heading straight for Jet.
“Zade, what are you doing? Shouldn’t you be in school?” Jet stands, his attention fixed on the young boy, worry creasing his eyes.
“He had another fight, Mr. Porter,” an older lady says from the door. “I’m so sorry for disturbing you, but he wanted to see you.”
“No, of course, it’s fine,” Jethro says, soothing the boy and looking at the black eye the kid was sporting with fury laced on his face. I don’t blame him. If someone hit my kid, I’d lose my shit.
Jethro stands, tucking the boy to his side and sighing heavily, like the weight of the world is on his shoulders.
“I didn’t know you had a kid,” I say, trying for polite and easygoing.
But apparently failing with my old friend.
“I’m sorry. I need to handle some things. If you’d like, we can schedule an appointment, but I don’t think you’ll get very far.”
With that, we’re dismissed and facing his secretary. I sigh in defeat, and Bonnie heads straight for the secretary.
“What are you doing?” I ask, getting closer. “He doesn’t seem to want to budge.”
“I’m making an appointment.” Comes her sure answer, her eyes on the secretary.
“I don’t have an opening until November,” the secretary, Janet, says, giving us a bored look.
