Page 33 of Soft
"Paxton," he said. "Good morning. Come in."
"Morning." I came in and took the chair across from his desk. I settled into it much like how I settled into the box before agame. Feet planted, attention forward, ready for whatever came my way. "Nice office."
He looked around briefly like he was seeing it from the outside for a moment. Then he sat down, placing the papers he’d held on the desk before him. "Thanks. I'd like to go through everything before you sign. I want you to understand every piece of it so you can decide if we’re actually a good fit."
"That's exactly what I was hoping you'd say."
He froze at my words, blinking for a few moments like he was resetting himself. It was fucking adorable. I liked that I could fluster him.
"Royce confirmed interest. Their offer is here." He slid the top sheet across the desk toward me. "Read through it. Take whatever time you need. Ask whatever you want."
I read over the paper carefully, just like my pops had taught me to read anything with my name going on it.Top to bottom. Slow and steady. Never skim.
It was a solid offer. It was actually better than solid. The numbers were fair enough to prove Royce genuinely wanted me there and comfortable.
I went through it section by section and asked the questions that came up as I read them. Grizzly answered everything cleanly, no talking around points. He knew this contract the way I knew my swing mechanics, from the inside out.
Don’t pop a boner. Don’t pop a boner.
We went back and forth on a few things. The length of the initial term. The performance incentive structure. At one point, I disagreed with the phrasing on a clause and said so, and helistened, thought about it for a moment, and said I had a point. I appreciated that more than an immediate reply.
Then we got to the agent fee.
I looked at the number and froze. “This is low.”
He shook his head. "It's standard."
"It's below your standard. I looked up what your fee structure has been with other clients. You're cutting yourself short." I set the page down on the desk and slid it back toward him. "I want you to take your fair share."
"Most clients don't argue for a higher agent fee."
"Most clients aren't thinking about the long game." I kept my voice easy, not making a big thing of it. "You're going to put in the work. Probably more work than most people would, because that's who you are. I want you compensated for it correctly. So take what's fair, and we'll both feel good about this."
I wondered if I was pushing too hard. Was I being more Daddy than client? I didn’t think so, but I couldn’t be fully sure.
Grizzly picked up the page, making a note in the margin. "Alright," he agreed.
"Good." It pained me to not addboyat the end. He really deserved all the praise for what he was putting together for me, and for the fact that he listened so well.
He glanced up. His expression was a little undone around the edges for a second, before he pulled it back together. I didn't comment on it. I waited while he finished making his notes, and we moved on to the next section.
We got through the rest of it in another hour. By the time we reached the signature line, I felt like I understood exactly what I was committing to and exactly what I was getting in return, which was all I had ever asked for from anyone who was supposed to be in my corner.
Grizzly set the pen on the desk and slid the revised contract across toward me.
I picked it up and signed my name. There it was. A new agent. A promise to play for Bellport.
One of the things I had wanted most for the last year and a half was now real, sitting on the desk in front of me.
"Welcome to the agency," Grizzly said.
I grinned. "You're the second person to say that to me this morning."
The corner of his mouth kicked up. "Moseley, I bet. He basically told me I was a fool if I didn’t bring you on."
"The man seems smart. Listening to him was wise."
He shook his head, but the almost-smile stayed. He stood, extending his hand across the desk. I rose too, holding onto the professionalism of the moment as best I could. His hand was warm, his grip solid. I had to remind myself then that I’d vowed I was going to let this go at whatever pace he needed it to go.
