7. Alice
7
Alice
T hrough all of my jobs, I’ve never sat in on a marketing planning session. It was always just me. This is a mostly male, professional sports strategy marketing team. Yikes . But I slap on a smile—one that says I belong here. Zoe and Billy were right when they sought me out. I’m the girl for the job.
Oh, please let me be the girl for the job.
All of the people sitting around this table have been hired to help with marketing and branding. I square my shoulders and sit up. Will is at the head of the table, leading this assembly—I’m pretty sure he’s everywhere. There are three of him, and he doesn’t miss a meeting, whether marketing, coaching, technical, scouting, etc. He’s ever-present and relaying Billy’s messages. Zoe sits next to Will. She’s Billy’s lawyer, and she’s pretty much everywhere too. Maybe Billy has a cloning machine. Don’t these people get tired? They had two meetings before this one, and it’s only eleven in the morning. If Will is Billy’s number one, then Zoe must be his number two.
Around the rest of this large conference table is the team—Theo, Mateo, Mason—and me.
I’m a few weeks behind. Zoe mentioned that I was replacing a team member, one that I learned lied to Will and Billy on multiple occasions. One that tried to pocket a portion of Billy’s startup capital. One that lied about the work he’d supposedly done.
“Those are a few options,” Will says, and I’m thankful for his slide presentation. He’s talking team names, but I’m struggling to keep my eyes wide open.
Turns out sleeping on tiled flooring sucks.
I’ve been in Tesoro for days, and I’m ready to ask Dad to mail me a bed.
I can’t. Okay, I could. He would do it. But I won’t. I am a twenty-six-year-old woman who is on her own for the very first time. I won’t go running to Daddy for help the second I’m a little uncomfortable. I can solve my own problems.
Besides, running to Dad is something my mother would do. And while I love her, I don’t have a desire to be like her in that way.
“Any thoughts?” Will says.
“I still don’t understand why we aren’t reviving the Reno 1868 FC,” Theo says. He leans his stocky shoulders in, the grease in his blond hair hitting the light just right, and I swear it sends a zing of pain into my eyeballs whenever I look at him.
“FC? As in fight club?” I peer around the room, but clearly, I am the only one here confused. Someday, I will learn to keep quiet—today is not that day.
“No,” Zoe says, a curt smile on her face. “It stands for football club.”
“Right.” My cheeks go warm. “Still learning a few terms.” I’ve been researching, but that term hasn’t popped up in any of my Google searches yet. I do know that football is another term for soccer, the original term. That other countries still use this term.
My fingers run over the keys of my laptop as I avoid everyone’s gaze and type Reno 1868 FC into my search bar. I scan the first article that pops up, getting a small feel for it.
Theo smirks beside me. “Good try, princess .” He chuckles while elbowing Mateo beside him. He glances up at Will, brows raised as if they’re sharing an inside joke. Will must have relayed my family nickname to the other men in this meeting. Yes, I’ve been in town for a few days with assignments to research and think about, but today is our first team meeting. And I’m feeling so included—or not !
My warm cheeks flame. No doubt I am as red as a cherry tomato. Thanks a lot, Will Henley.
“Billy doesn’t want to revive anything,” Will says, ignoring the fact that I’m flaming and Theo’s giving me nicknames. “He’s looking to start something new and fresh.”
Theo hunches in his cushioned rolling chair and mutters, “Billy likes to do things the hard way.”
Despite my pink cheeks and racing heart, I speak up—I’ve never been one to ignore a bully. And I think that’s exactly what Theo is. That’s my ten-minute assessment anyway. “I think he’s smart,” I say. I’m happy to disagree with Theo, but I also believe what I’m saying.
“Excuse me?” Theo sits up.
“And how would you know?” Mateo peers around Theo to look at me. Every bully has a crony.
I clear my throat and ignore the sweat beading over my neck. “Reviving a team that went bankrupt sounds like a dead idea.” I shrug. “I agree with Billy on this.”
“You realize he’s not here, right?” Theo snorts. “You can’t suck up to him when he’s not in the room.”
Okay, I officially dislike Theo. A lot. We are never going to be BFFs.
My mouth will not stay shut—it’s the Alice Taylor curse. “I don’t suck up. I work hard. You said your way is easier. It may be easier, but that doesn’t make it right. That doesn’t make it better. It may be easier for you to Frankenstein all the old branding of that deceased team, but that isn’t what Billy’s asked us to do.” My heart thumps, and I swallow down the last word, clamping my mouth shut.
“Alice is right,” Will says. “That team, that brand, it already failed. We aren’t resurrecting it. Besides, we’re based in Tesoro now.” Will stabs a finger into the tabletop.
I spin in my chair away from Theo’s glare and face Will, holding up one finger in question. “But why not include Reno?” This is a question I had last night—it kept swirling in my brain as I researched the area. I just kept thinking and thinking. Sleep wouldn’t come. Okay —that could have been the tiled floor.
“Ah…” Will draws out the sound. “Billy prefers Tesoro.” He clicks to his next slide, but I have more questions. Ones Billy isn’t here to answer, so Will gets them.
“I’m sure you already hashed this out.” I glance around the table. “But can I ask why? Reno is five times the size of Tesoro. If we include Reno in our name and brand, we will increase our home fan base five times over. It just makes sense.”
“I thought we already established that Billy doesn’t always make sense.” Theo peeks at Mateo, who mimes his hand in front of his nose, looping downward—an elephant trunk.
I ignore the pair. They’re like mean children on a playground.
Does Billy know they act like this?
“Look,” I say, pulling up a few Reno-Tesoro logos on my phone. I pass it up to Will. There’s Reno-Tesoro News, a visit Reno-Tesoro website, the Reno-Tesoro international airport. “There are multiple Reno-Tesoro established companies already. Why wouldn’t we include that region?”
Will’s brow furrows as he studies my phone for three whole seconds before handing it back to me.
“Just ask Billy,” I say. “Or let me. I’d be happy to explain?—”
“Billy communicates through Will,” Mason says. The quiet man sits across from me. “Always has. Just how he is.”
I nibble on my inner cheek. Have any of them met Billy? Could any of them point him out in a lineup?
I attempt to stifle another yawn, but this one won’t be held back. I cover my mouth with my hand and wait for Will’s next slide.
We sit another hour, and by the time we leave, I have homework from Will as well as homework I’ve deemed to give myself.
“Alice!” Will says, jogging down the hall of Billy’s office building to catch up to me.
I growl, remembering that I have every right to be annoyed with this man even if work temporarily distracted me. “ You .”
“Yeah.” He cringes. “Um, sorry about that princess remark. I sort of told the team about our visit to Idaho. That was before I knew you’d be joining us.”
“So, it’s okay for you to make fun of me if you believe I won’t be around to feel the repercussions of it?” I keep walking but take two seconds to look at him, to tell him with my eyes how stupid that is.
“No, that’s not what I meant. That night, your dress, your uncles—it was just a funny story, and I—” He sighs, his head lolling forward before he rights it once more. “I’m sorry. Really.”
“Yeah—well, that was a jerk move. But I have a feeling with or without Theo calling me princess, I’d dislike that man.”
“Yeah, he’s not my favorite either.”
“Why does Billy keep him around?”
He lifts one shoulder. “He’s good at his job.” Will keeps stride with me as I make my way to the parking lot. “Your idea back there to include Reno, it’s not a terrible one.”
“Gee, thanks. Is that how you give a compliment?”
He swallows. “No, I just?—”
“I know it’s a good idea. I thought about it all night.”
“You did?” he says, his lips quirked in a crooked grin.
I shrug and pause my trek. “Yeah. No one else ever brought it up?”
“They did, but they also paired it with the idea of recreating the Reno 1868 FC. They always wanted to move our base to Reno. No one ever brought up a Reno-Tesoro club.”
“It’s obvious Billy’s pretty attached to Tesoro—or why would he have included it in the first place? He could have based us in Reno to begin with. He’s a smart man.”
“Is he?” Will says.
I roll my eyes and keep talking. “But why not piggyback on all the other Reno-Tesoro operations out here.”
“And the stadium?” Will asks.
I shrug. “He could keep it in Tesoro. It’s only a forty-minute drive from Reno. But call it every Renoite’s home field too. Or build a stadium here and there.”
Will scoffs. “Do you have any idea how much money it costs to build a stadium? Even a smaller one?”
“Do you have any idea how much money one billion dollars is?” I move my feet again, taking off outside toward my Jeep. I stand next to the silver hatch at the back and cross my arms. “If I spent five thousand dollars every single day for the rest of my life, I’d have to live to be 548 years old to spend all one billion.” I blink, my eyes tired, and cover yet another yawn.
“You did the math, huh?” he says with a laugh.
“Have you ever spent five grand in a day, Will?” I shake my head and stifle another yawn.
“Why are you so tired?”
“Oof.” I grunt and rub two fingers at my temple. “You were right. Tile is not that friendly to sleep on. Even with my quilter’s club quilt.”
“You need a bed,” he tells me, his brow wrinkled.
I yawn again—this time I give in, covering my wide-open mouth. “I need a paycheck first.”
Will swallows and shoves both of his hands into the front of his jeans pockets. “I have a spare room. One with a bed. If you ever need it.”
“You know…” I peer at him—the man who told everyone my childhood nickname. Will Henley . How well do I know the man? Maybe I should be googling him . “We’re not that close.”
“Excuse me?” he says with a balking laugh.
“I’m just saying, my father, my uncles, my moms—they’d all kill me dead if I slept in a strange man’s apartment.” Okay—Mom wouldn’t kill me. I might be following her example. But Coco would drag me home and lock me in my old bedroom.
“I’m not a strange man. I’m your coworker. We know each other.”
I narrow my gaze. “But not that well.”