“No problem. What’s going on?”
Omar handed Jaedon the large envelope. “I need you to represent me in a lawsuit against my agent.”
Jaedon narrowed his eyes and pulled out the stack of papers. “Your agent is Roland Foster, right?”
He nodded.
“These are the same contract.”
“Until you get to the flagged pages.” He leaned over and pointed. “This is the copy Roland gave me to sign, and this one,” he said, indicating the other copy, “is the original one from the watch company.”
“So he siphoned seventy-five thousand off the top, plus his percentage.”
“Exactly. He did the same thing with two others of my endorsements. Another seventy-five off the body wash one and half a mil from the sports drink.” When Omar first saw that seventy-five-thousand-dollar difference, it had taken every ounce of his control not to storm over to Roland’s house and beat the man to a pulp. He’d found out about the alteration when he ran into one of the executives he had met with at the watch company. The man congratulated him on the multimillion dollar contract with a number considerably higher than Omar remembered signing. And when asked, had provided Omar with another copy of the original contract.
Jaedon shook his head. “When’s your contract up?”
“A month and a half. But he won’t be negotiating it.”
“I haven’t seen anything in the news about you firing him, and I know that would’ve made the news.”
“Because I haven’t yet. I wanted to talk to you first and see if you would take the case.”
“I will. Do you need some references for another agent? I know a few reputable guys.”
“No. I already have one. Morgan Gray.”
“I’ve never heard of him.”
Omar chuckled. “That’s because he’s a she and I’m her first client. She’s Malcolm Gray’s twin sister.”
Recognition dawned. “The attorney working for their family’s company?”
“Yes.”
Jaedon frowned. “Isn’t she kind of young? If I remember correctly, she’s only two or three years out of law school.”
“She is. But she knows football, and I don’t want to deal with anyone connected to league politics. My first agent negotiated a one-year deal so bad I probably could have made more working in a fast-food restaurant. After that, when my ex-girlfriend forged my name on some reality TV deal she was trying to get, my second agent was nowhere to be found. He didn’t back my claims of not knowing anything about the deal and tried to get me to consider doing the show. My guess, it was because of the dollar amount he figured he’d get. And now Roland.” He shook his head. “I’m done.”
“I didn’t know all that. Do you think Morgan will be able to handle herself with team management?”
“I admit that it has crossed my mind, but I’m not too concerned about it.” In fact, that was the least of Omar’s worries.
“But...” When Omar didn’t respond, a slow grin made its way over Jaedon’s face. “But you’re attracted to her.”
“Yeah.”
“It might not be—”
Omar held up a hand. “She’s already set the ground rules.”
He laughed. “Which means it’s not one-sided. I’ve met Morgan. She’s a beautiful woman. Let me know how that works out for you.”
“Sounds like you’re in the same boat. Someone in your office?”
“No. The personal chef I just hired. Anyway, when are you going to call Roland?”
“As soon as I leave here.”
“Good. I’ll get the ball rolling. I’ve met Roland, and I don’t think he’s going to take this lying down. Are you prepared for media?”
“I am.” In reality it was the last thing he wanted, especially with the fund-raiser coming up this weekend. But he’d deal with it. He stood. “Thanks for everything, Jaedon.”
Jaedon followed suit. “No problem. I’ll let you know when he’s been served so you can be prepared.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“By the way, Marcus told me about the mental health center you’re trying to open. It’s a good thing. I’ll be there on Saturday.”
“I’ll be glad for the support.” The two men shook hands, and Omar headed back down to the garage where his car was parked. He slid behind the wheel, pulled out his cell and called Roland. Just the mere thought of the man spiked Omar’s anger all over again. But the sooner he ended the relationship, the better he’d be, mentally and financially.
“I’ve been trying to call you for the past two and a half weeks,” Roland started in before Omar could say a word. “We need to jump on this deal with Apple. I can’t keep putting them off.”
He knew that deal would most likely net a lucrative contract, but Roland wouldn’t be handling it. If Apple was serious and things worked out with Morgan, maybe he’d ask her to negotiate the contract. He felt certain she would be honest in her dealings.
“So I need you to get over here and—”
“Roland,” Omar interrupted. “I won’t be coming by your office tonight or ever. We’re done.”
There was a slight pause, then Roland said, “What the hell do you mean, we’re done? After all I’ve done for you. You would’ve never been able to negotiate a deal to become one of the highest paid tight ends had it not been for me. You need me, Drummond.”
“Are you sure it’s not the other way around?”
The agent went silent for a moment. “Exactly what are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything. I’m opting out of my contract.”
“You can’t do that to me,” he yelled.
“Sure I can. Remember that clause that says either of us can terminate the contract if the other doesn’t live up to the agreement? You haven’t, so I’m exercising that option. You’ll be hearing from my attorney.” Roland’s curses filled Omar’s ear as Omar ended the call. He blew out a long breath and felt a weight being lifted off his chest. He smiled, started the engine and drove across town to his brother and sister-in-law’s house.
He was relieved to see his brother’s truck parked in the driveway. Every so often something would trigger some sort of flashback for Rashad and he’d disappear for hours, sometimes days. And when he returned, looked as if he’d been sleeping on the streets. Six months ago, after much discussion, Rashad had allowed Omar to buy him a small trailer where he could go when he needed time alone. So far it had worked out and made it easier on his wife and children, as well as the rest of their family.
“Uncle Omar!”
His twelve-year-old niece, Brianna, flew off the porch and across the grass before Omar could close the car door. It seemed like she had added another inch or two to her slender frame since he’d seen her last and, with her smooth mocha skin, dark eyes and wide smile, was a mini replica of her beautiful mother. She launched herself at him as soon as he rounded the fender, and he scooped her up and swung her around. Setting her gently on her feet, he placed a kiss on her temple. “How’s my favorite niece?” he asked with a grin.
“I’m your only niece,” she answered with a playful roll of her eyes. “I’m good.”
“You