One False Move Page 17

The coach blew the whistle ending practice. She gathered her players around, reminded them that they needed to be back in two hours for the second session, thanked them for their hustle, dismissed them with a clap.

Myron waited for Brenda to shower and get dressed. It didn’t take her long. She came out in a long red T-shirt and black jeans, her hair still wet.

“Did Mabel know anything?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Has she heard from Dad?”

Myron nodded. “She says he’s on the run. Two men came to her house looking for him. They roughed her up a bit.”

“My God, is she okay?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “What’s he on the run from?”

“Mabel doesn’t know.”

Brenda looked at him, waited a beat. “What else?” she said.

Myron cleared his throat. “Nothing that can’t wait.”

She kept looking at him. Myron turned and headed for his car. Brenda followed.

“So where we going?” she asked.

“I thought we’d stop by St. Barnabas and talk to your father’s supervisor.”

She caught up to him. “You think he knows something?”

“Highly doubtful. But this is what I do. I go poking around and hope something stirs.”

They reached the car. Myron unlocked the doors, and they both got in.

“I should be paying you for your time,” she said.

“I’m not a private investigator, Brenda. I don’t work by the hour.”

“Still. I should be paying you.”

“Part of client recruitment,” Myron said.

“You want to represent me?”

“Yes.”

“You haven’t made much of a sales pitch or applied any pressure.”

“If I had,” he said, “would it have worked?”

“No.”

Myron nodded and started up the car.

“Okay,” she said. “We’ve got a few minutes. Tell me why I should choose you and not one of the big boys. Personal service?”

“Depends on your definition of personal services. If you mean someone always following you around with lips firmly planted on your buttocks, then no, the big boys are better at puckering. They have the staff for it.”

“So what does Myron Bolitar offer? A little tongue with those lips?”

He smiled. “A total package designed to maximize your assets while allowing room for integrity and a personal life.”

She nodded. “What a crock.”

“Yeah, but it sounds good. In truth, MB SportsReps is a three-prong system. Prong one is earning money. I’m in charge of negotiating all contracts. I will continually seek out new endorsement deals for you and whenever possible get a bidding war going for your services. You’ll make decent money playing for the WPBA, but you’ll make a hell of a lot more on endorsements. You got a lot of pluses in that department.”

“Such as?”

“Three things off the top of my head. One, you’re the best female player in the country. Two, you’re studying to be a doctor—a pediatrician, no less—so we can play up the whole role model thing. And three, you’re not hard on the eyes.”

“You forgot one.”

“What?”

“Four, that perennial white man favorite: well spoken. You ever notice that no one ever describes a white athlete as well spoken?”

“As a matter of fact, I have. It’s why I left it off the list. But the truth is, it helps. I’m not going to get into a debate on Ebonics and the like, but if you are what is commonly referred to as well spoken, it adds revenue. Simple as that.”

She nodded. “Go on.”

“In your case we need to design a strategy. Clearly you would have tremendous appeal to clothing and sneaker companies. But food products would love you too. Restaurant chains.”

“Why?” she asked. “Because I’m big?”

“Because you’re not waiflike,” Myron corrected. “You’re real. Sponsors like real—especially when it comes in an exotic package. They want someone attractive yet accessible—a contradiction, but there you go. And you have it. Cosmetic companies will want to get in on this too. We could also pick up a lot of local deals, but I would advise against it in the beginning. Try to stick with the national markets where we can. It doesn’t pay to go after every dime out there. But that will be up to you. I’ll present them to you. The final decision is always yours.”

“Okay,” she said. “Give me prong two.”

“Prong two is what you do with your money after you earn it. You’ve heard of Lock-Horne Securities?”

“Sure.”

“All of my clients are required to set up a long-term financial plan with their top man, Windsor Horne Lockwood the Third.”

“Nice name.”

“Wait till you meet him. But ask around. Win is considered one of the best financial advisers in the country. I insist that every client meet with him quarterly—not by fax or phone but in person—to go over their portfolios. Too many athletes get taken advantage of. That won’t happen here, not because Win or I am watching your money but because you are.”

“Impressive. Prong three?”

“Esperanza Diaz. She is my right hand and handles everything else. I mentioned before that I’m not the best with ass kissing. That’s true. But the reality of this business means I have to wear a lot of hats—travel agent, marriage counselor, limo driver, whatever.”

“And this Esperanza helps out with all that?”

“She’s crucial.”

Brenda nodded. “Sounds like you give her the shit detail.”

“Esperanza just graduated law school, as a matter of fact.” He tried not to sound too defensive, but her words had struck bone. “She takes on more responsibility every day.”

“Okay, one question.”

“What?” Myron asked.

“What aren’t you telling me about your visit to Mabel?”

Myron said nothing for a moment.

“It’s about my mother, isn’t it?”

“Not really. It’s just …” He let his voice drift off before starting up again. “Are you sure you want me to find her, Brenda?”

She crossed her arms and slowly shook her head. “Cut it out.”

“What?”

“I know you think protecting me is sweet and noble. But it’s not. It’s annoying and insulting. So stop it. Now. If your mother ran away when you were five, wouldn’t you want to know what happened?”

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