Sudden Death Read Online Free Page B

briefcase a contract for Carmen to sign endorsing socks in Japan and a teaching pro offer in darkest New Mexico. For one week out of the year, she’d get paid $140,000 plus a condominium thrown in for good measure.
    All of these contracts had sweeteners. If she won Wimbledon, she’d get a bonus. If she won the Grand Slam, she’d get immortality as well as elephantine bonuses. Carmen, thanks to her phenomenal athletic ability and good court sense, could never be counted out of winning the Slam, but the odds were against any player, no matter how remarkable.
    Seth left the table and hovered over Rainey Rogers, anotherof his clients. Rainey’s mother acted as flak catcher. He asked her to listen to the deal he had for Rainey. If Rainey, and Mom, naturally, would just consent to play in a midsize tournament in West Germany, the promoter would slip in—under the table, you understand—the prettiest BMW ever seen. Mom was sharp and ruthless in her dedication to her offspring’s success, and she played it cool.
    “I’ve never been to Germany, Mother.” Rainey worked a one-two act with Mom. They both knew Seth would report back to the promoter there was active interest.
    Carmen watched Rainey as Seth spoke with Mrs. Rogers. Rainey was okay away from her mother, but with her mother, watch out. Rainey’s grim determination wore down opponents. Her mother’s grim determination wore down everyone else. Rainey and Carmen were about even in win-loss records. It hadn’t occurred to Carmen to try to like Rainey because Carmen never got emotionally close to her competition. Susan had taught her that.
    “What do you think of Seth and his firm?” Miguel asked Ricky.
    “Oh, I don’t know, Miguel.” Ricky paused. “The money pouring into tennis has been good in many ways, but I have a few reservations. I think that’s because I grew up with tennis as a country club game, so even though I think the expansion has been healthy, I sometimes get a little nervous with all the hucksterism.”
    “I grew up that way, too. Father Perez, my boyhood coach, used to say that sport was a test of man against man. Father Perez also implied that games should be dedicated to the glory of God. That’s all very well, Rick, but you have to be able to afford his view.”
    “Sure. That was always the problem with tennis.”

    “Your racquet contract expires on January first.” Seth’s papers neatly filled up the coffee table. Miguel sat catty-cornered to his sister and listened, his face turned toward Seth.
    “That’s a year away.”
    “We should start thinking about it now. I think they’ll come up with two hundred thousand dollars for a three-year contract plus huge bonuses if you win any of the Grand Slam events. Of course, if you win the Grand Slam, it would come to about seven hundred and fifty thousand.”
    “Sounds good.” Carmen liked hearing about the money.
    “However, there is a West German sporting goods firm, Mach, that is trying to crack open the American market. I think we might even get more from them if you’ll play some European exhibitions.”
    “Really?”
    “I’m working on it.” Seth smiled the smile only a crocodile can approximate. Since Athletes Unlimited took a twenty-five-percent commission on all contracts and exhibition fees, it was in his self-interest to get the most money he could. Whether or not the products were good mattered very little. Often a manufacturer would provide custom-built racquets or shoes for their hired help, the stars, and then sell an inferior product bearing the star’s name. The product on the marketplace looked exactly the same but it wasn’t. The trick worked many times over. Duffers wouldn’t know the difference between a first-class racquet and one made from cheap alloys anyway. Seth never explained this to Carmen. He assumed she understood the game, his game. Miguel grasped the concept instantly.
    “How about the condominium in Savannah, Georgia? They really want you for