4: Jack - In The Pack Read Online Free Page A

team.”
     
     
    Before I could protest, he held out a hand. “Giselle loves sales. She’s already agreed to travel with you, introduce you to our client list.”
     
     
    That had me grinning. Talk about your hard-hitting sales pitches. How could I turn that down?
     
     
    I leaned back. I had to give it some thought.
     
     
    He rattled off some figures, other fringe benefits to the job.
     
     
    By then, my brain had cleared. I assumed the effects of the Lobos shake were short-lived. I could see that the offer was too good to refuse. Basically, he told me that they could suit the final package to my preferences, what I was willing to do.
     
     
    I asked, “Why me? I mean, there are other athletes vying for products.”
     
     
    Hood half-laughed, leaning back, too. “Come on. There’s no other tri-athlete out there that has the image you do.”
     
     
    “But you’re saying you’d take me behind the scenes. What good would that do?”
     
     
    “You underestimate the underlying tapestry of business. Word of mouth is a powerful thing.”
     
     
    “So you would put out a press release that I’m selling the product.”
     
     
    He shrugged. “Wouldn’t have to say anything officially.”
     
     
    “But it would probably come out.”
     
     
    “Oh, I’m sure. But, Jack, this product is gonna sell. Like hotdogs. Or peanuts at the circus. You can be on the top of the world, wallowing in the glories of free enterprise, or sitting on a tattered sofa somewhere, wondering why you didn’t lead the bandwagon. We’re asking you to be grand marshal in our parade.”
     
     
    I’d been in too many parades, didn’t particularly like that analogy. And when push comes to shove, I’m my own man. You don’t get to the pinnacle of your sport if you aren’t. It’s what makes champions.
     
     
    Unease crept into my psyche. The sales pitch was a little too straightforward, a little too intense. I felt like he didn’t plan on taking no for an answer. And I didn’t like that.
     
     
    “I’ll tell you what. Let me mull it over.” I stood up.
     
     
    “What is there to think about?”
     
     
    I reached around my back, tucked my shirt in. He was doing the same thing. In some way, it sparked my funny bone. Two men, on opposite sides of the bargaining table, both posturing, both knowing that time was running out. I said, “I’m going to look through your client list, see who I’d be dealing with.”
     
     
    He nodded, appeared to be thinking that over, didn’t seem to think that was a problem. We turned toward the door in unison. I felt like we’d come to a silent agreement, that I was likely not interested, that something wasn’t quite sitting right with me. What? I couldn’t put a finger on.
     
     
    “You could do that.” He clapped me on the back. We headed toward the door. “Jack, I’d like to be friends with you. Lobos has some far-reaching plans and I really think you’re perfect for us. You just don’t know it yet.”
     
     
    Our exit was interrupted by an intercom request for Hood to take a call. He asked me to wait for him. He picked up the extension in the room, said a few words, mostly, “That’s good. Uh-huh. Positive. Great. Thanks.” Click.
     
     
    “Sounds like good news.” Making small talk, I waited for him to come with me to the door.
     
     
    “Oh. Better than you can guess.” He moved toward me. “Do you know much about our business here?”
     
     
    “Enough, I guess. I did a little homework.”
     
     
    Again, he clapped me on the back and we headed out. Remember, I said the room was big. Lots of footage between the furniture and the door. Thick carpeting. We weren’t in any hurry. He was still working on the sell, and I was letting him give his final pitch.
     
     
    He kind’ve held me up, the way his arm put pressure on, and he stopped walking. He asked, “What did you learn?”
     
     
    I shrugged. “Oh, I dunno.” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at. Did he