18. Emilia & Smith
Smith: Please tell me your night was better than mine.
Emilia: I’m sorry about the loss. That one was brutal.
Smith: Getting shut out is never good, but when it’s a team that’s 30th in the league? Hurts.
Emilia: If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been at the office since eight AM.
Smith: Are you still there?
Emilia: Yes.
Smith: What the hell for?
Emilia: Tori. She needs me to write up a proposal for a campaign with a local charity, and she needs it by tomorrow. She sprung it on me right before puck drop, so I had to juggle the game and now this.
Smith: Screw that. Leave.
Emilia: I will soon. I just have a few more things to put together and then I’m good.
Smith: Emilia…
Emilia: That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.
Emilia: Unless it’s in bed. *wink*
Smith: I’m being serious.
Emilia: So am I. *double wink*
Smith: Wouldn’t that just be a blink?
Emilia: No! I winked twice!
Smith: You really should go home. Finish it in the morning.
Emilia: I already have stuff to do tomorrow morning.
Smith: I’m sorry. I wish I was there to help.
Emilia: I don’t. Your version of “helping” is to get me naked.
Emilia: Actually, I lied. I do wish you were here.
Smith: That’s what I thought.
Smith: At least text me when you get home.
Emilia: You’re kind of bossy, you know.
Smith: You like it.
Emilia: I do. Possibly a bit too much.
Smith: No such thing as too much.
Smith: Now, go work. Get your shit done and get home. Within the next hour, please.
Emilia: Yes, sir.
Smith: You’re playing with fire, Emilia.
Emilia: What are you going to do? Glare menacingly at your flip phone?
Smith: Flip phone??
Smith: I’m not that old!
Emilia: Whatever you say, gramps.
Smith: I swear, I’m spanking your ass when I get back.
Emilia: Promises, promises.
Emilia: *kissy-face emoji*
* * *
Emilia: Don’t hate me, but when you get home, we need more content.
Smith: MORE?
Smith: How many damn videos do we need for this thing?
Emilia: A lot.
Emilia: We post daily, and not everything is for the player profile. Some of it is just for the team.
Smith: No.
Emilia: Please??
Smith: Fine.
Smith: But for a price.
Emilia: *sigh*
Emilia: You want to see my boobs, don’t you?
Smith: Yes.
Emilia: Fine.
Emilia: You’re such a guy, you know that?
Smith: Yep. Well aware.
Smith: What are the videos about?
Emilia: It’s a QA series. We have fans submit questions, then we filter through them. It will only be about ten.
Emilia: For the profile, I mean.
Emilia: It’ll be at least five videos for the team.
Smith: FIVE?!?
Emilia:
Smith: I want more than boobs.
Emilia: Fine. I’ll send both tits, then.
Smith: You were only going to send one???
Smith: That’s just mean.
Smith: Tease.
Emilia: Damn right I am!
Emilia: What am I getting out of sending you a tit pic?
Smith: THE VIDEOS!
Emilia: Those are for the team, not me.
Smith: You make a valid point, but I really feel like that’s cheating.
Emilia: Oh, it definitely is.
Emilia: But you’re going to let me cheat anyway.
Smith: I am?
Emilia: Yes. Because I’m cute.
Smith: Hmm.
Smith: Fair.
Smith: You’re kind of sassy today, you know that?
Emilia: I know.
Smith: Well, as long as you’re aware.
* * *
Emilia: On a scale of 1-10, how good of a dancer are you?
Smith: 0
Emilia: That’s not a valid answer.
Smith: -1
Emilia: Smith…
Smith: I am not dancing.
Smith: Never.
Smith: Ever.
Smith: Keep fucking dreaming.
Emilia: Not even for the team?
Smith: Not a chance.
Emilia: BOO!
Smith: Boo me all you want. It’s not happening.
Emilia: It will make really good content though…
Smith: I don’t care. Dancing is where I draw the line.
Emilia: Lowell’s dancing.
Smith: What dirt do you have on him?
Emilia: Enough.
Smith: I’m curious but I know you well enough to know that if I want details, I’ll have to make an exchange and I’m still not dancing.
Emilia: Ugh. Fine.
Emilia: *crosses off next ten ideas*
Smith: I’m sure you’ll come up with something else.
Emilia: And here I was, ready to offer up blow jobs in exchange for content.
Smith: …
Smith: What kind of dancing?
* * *
Smith: Be honest…
Smith: Does it make me an old man if I order oatmeal for breakfast?
Emilia: Yes.
Smith: You’re supposed to say no.
Emilia: Well, I don’t want to lie to you so…
Emilia: Yes.
Emilia: It’s a total old person food.
Smith: Watch your tone, little girl.
Emilia: It’s text. You can’t hear my tone.
Smith: Trust me, I can.
Emilia: Can you hear this?
Smith: You just rolled your eyes, didn’t you?
Emilia: Possibly. *grins*
Smith: I thought you youngins were supposed to show your elders respect.
Emilia: I don’t think you “respected” me very much the last time I saw you.
Smith: I did and that’s exactly why I did what I did.
Emilia: Okay. That’s fair.
Emilia: Why are you worried about being “old” for ordering oatmeal?
Emilia: Wait. Let me guess. Miller?
Smith: No. That shithead Greer.
Emilia: You don’t like your goalie?
Smith: Of course I like my goalie. But only on the ice.
Smith: He’s a cocky little prick.
Emilia: But also totally saving your asses this year.
Smith: Whose side are you on here?
Emilia: Yours. Totally yours.
Emilia: But…am I lying?
Smith: No.
Emilia: That totally killed you to say, didn’t it?
Smith: Yes.
Emilia: You’ll be fine.
Emilia: I’ll make sure I kiss you back to life when you get home tomorrow.
Smith: Start with my dick, please.
Emilia: We’ll see.
Emilia: *whispers* That’s a lie. I totally will.