"Of course, I see Butler's value," Jake replied smoothly as Gar began to soften his stance. "If we didn't, we wouldn't be here with so much on the table."
Jake leaned back, taking a sip from his cup. "And you know what LaVine brings to the court—this year, we pushed him up to a starting role. He's been stellar, and he's a showstopper. Just ask your analyst."
Gar chuckled, finally letting down his guard a bit. "But LaVine, at his best, is a strong starter. I don't see him as a team's centerpiece, and I'm trading you my core player."
Jake held up a hand, amused. "That's your opinion! Rose played 51 games last season; he helped carry the team. I'm still not sold on Butler being your only core."
"Fine, then. Give me a fair offer!" Gar said, letting the negotiation come back to Jake. He'd known going in that today's battle was uphill—Jake had the drive, and Jim was quietly swaying the Bulls' management. The team's current record wasn't helping, with roster conflicts over playtime and hierarchy wearing on everyone. Jim's input had nudged the owner toward a rebuild, and Gar knew he needed to make this trade happen.
"Alright, let's both compromise," Jake suggested, breaking Gar's thoughts. "Three first-round picks are off the table. How about I offer a 2020 first-round swap right?"
Gar perked up at this new angle. League rules meant that far-future first-round picks often held higher value, especially since the Kings' current lineup might make near-term picks less appealing. A swap right gave flexibility that Gar found hard to ignore.
"One swap is too light," Gar said, his gaze sharpening. "Give me one more first-rounder for the future, and we'll close this deal today."
"Two far-future first-round picks and a swap right?" Jake scoffed. "You might as well mug me! Come on."
Gar knocked on the table, feigning a stern look. "Mind your manners! We're still friends here. Let's keep it civil, shall we?"
Jake chuckled, realizing he'd gotten carried away. "Apologies, apologies." He grinned, then countered, "But look, an additional first-rounder's off the table. How about a second-round pick this year?"
Gar let out a genuine laugh. "A near-term second-round pick for a far-future first? You're treating me like I'm fresh out of school!"
Jake sighed. "This is the best you'll get, Gar. Ask any other team, and you won't find an offer this good. Don't push your luck here."
The two went back and forth until dusk, neither side ready to concede further.
"That's enough!" Gar finally declared. "Let's break here and pick up tomorrow."
Jake breathed a sigh of relief, the intense hours having taken their toll. "Alright. Let's regroup tomorrow, then," he said, packing up.
As Jake and his team left, Peja quietly asked, "Another planning session tonight?"
Jake shook his head. "No way! We've all worked hard enough. When we get to the hotel, get some rest!"
"What about tomorrow's session?" Peja pressed.
Jake smiled. "Relax! We're not in this alone. We'll get through it as a team."
Peja seemed puzzled by Jake's confidence, but Jake simply patted him on the shoulder. "Rest up. We'll be in a stronger position tomorrow."
Meanwhile, back in the Bulls' conference room, the mood was tense. "Tonight, the Kings played the Jazz, and LaVine dropped a career-high 40 points with nine threes," Gar noted with a scowl.
"The Kings are upping the ante," his assistant observed. "They structured the whole game around LaVine, and it's no coincidence. Jake's going to push this tomorrow, without a doubt."
Gar clenched his fist, frustration simmering. "That shark's going to show his teeth tomorrow. If we don't tighten up, he'll walk all over us."