7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Nila
“You’re doing a great job.” Frankie smiles at me as I enter the conference room. “His follower count has nearly doubled since you started posting two weeks ago, and the fight seems to be something of the past. I think we’re just about done here.”
I nod, unsure how I feel about it as I take a seat in one of the black leather chairs. It feels like too short of a stent, but maybe it’s just me—and the fact that I know Cameron won’t keep posting once I’m gone.
“You look concerned.” Frankie takes a seat at the head of the table. “What’s wrong?”
“I just ... Cameron isn’t big on making posts.”
“I see,” she hums, brushing some of her gray hair out of her face. “Maybe we need to focus on teaching him how to post, or maybe I could potentially hire someone to run his social media full-time. I’m afraid you’re out of our budget, but maybe you could assist in the process?”
I hesitate but then nod. “I can do that.” I started my own consulting company to get away from managing any one person’s account more than just temporarily, so the fact that I’m out of their budget makes it easier for me. “In the meantime, I can also coach Cameron on posting—if he’ll let me.”
Frankie laughs. “Cameron is as stubborn as they come, but he did well on the livestream. I think he just needs more time to adjust. Not everyone is comfortable in front of the camera. He’ll be here in about ten minutes. I’ll tell him the plan.”
I nod, my heart sinking into my chest. Frankie seems to think I’ve done a good job, so why does it feel like I haven’t been here long enough? As long as the client is satisfied, it shouldn’t matter, right?
I blink a few times as she scrolls through her phone, clicking and tapping on things.
“I love the post with his dad,” Frankie muses, looking over the top of her phone. “You took a great shot of him laughing, and then the comment about how important he is to Cam is great. That’s been by far the most engaging post. You really know how to win over hearts.”
“Thank you.” My eyes shift to the door, waiting for Cameron to walk in at any moment. I don’t even know if he’s looked at the posts I’ve made .
“You know, I liked the dating question on the livestream, too. I wish he would’ve answered it.”
He did.
And it was the perfect freaking answer.
The livestream showed me a whole different side of Cameron. His answers were surprising and unexpected … and I can’t help but want to know who he is behind his rough exterior…
“Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile. “I’m not sure he wants to focus on relationships.”
“He’s had a couple pretty high-profile romantic relationships,” Frankie continues, leaning back in her chair. “They were fairly public, but I don’t think anyone has ever asked him about them. That might be a good angle to draw out more attention. If people can see he’s a good boyfriend, that might add to the support.”
“Maybe,” I admit. “It’ll gain attention—everyone is always interested in that side of someone’s life. The whole world wants to know what goes on behind closed doors.”
She nods. “Let’s maybe try and do some relationship Q&A with him.”
I pull out my notepad and scribble the request down. “Okay. I’ll put together some ideas for that.”
Just as I finish making the note, the conference room door opens, and in walks Cameron and his lawyer, Tucker .
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Frankie greets them, a smile on her face. “How are we feeling?”
Cameron doesn’t even smile. “Alive.”
“Same,” Tucker comments, pulling out the chair beside me and plopping down. Cameron eyes him and then takes the seat on the other side. My eyes bounce between the two of them, and Cameron’s gaze shifts my way.
He gives me a crooked smile that makes my heart flutter.
Ugh, why does he have to be so handsome?
“You’ve done good work,” a deep voice says from beside me.
“Thank you,” I tell Tucker, noticing the way his gaze lingers a little longer than what would be considered normal.
“Okay, so,” Frankie interjects, letting out a breath. “Nila and I have talked this through and we’ve come up with a game plan.”
Cameron grunts, leaning his elbows against the table. “Oh boy. I can’t wait to hear this wonderful plan.”
“Do you ever stop complaining?” Frankie quips.
“No,” Tucker answers for him.
“Anyway,” I cut in, tapping my fingernails on the table. “Back to the plan.”
“Right.” Frankie laughs lightly. “Anyway, so I think the media has finally stopped talking about the fight. The narrative shifted much faster than I expected. That being said, we need to keep up the positive momentum.”
“What does that mean?” Cameron asks .
“It means that we’re going to keep posting on social media and I think the livestreams are a great component of that. That being said, Nila won’t be here much longer. She’s going to coach you on how to post and help me find a long-term social media manager for you. I don’t have anyone extra on my team to deal with that.”
“Why can’t she just do it?”
Cameron’s question takes me by surprise. I never would’ve expected him to want me to stay and handle his account. If anything, I figured that he’d be more than ready for me to leave.
“She’s out of our budget,” Frankie answers, “and she only takes on cases temporarily.”
“Okay. But why worry about social media at all if everything’s good?”
“Because it needs to remain good,” Frankie says. “We need to maintain your social media presence. It’s important.”
“To whom?” His question hits me like a ton of bricks, and I find myself zoning out as I begin to mull it over.
I understand maintaining his public image for the team’s sake, but beyond that ... why does social media matter?
By the time I tune back into the conversation, Frankie is finishing her spiel about Cameron losing his place on the team. I sigh, having already heard this the very first meeting, and if I’ve learned anything in the very short time I’ve been around Cameron, it’s that it doesn’t matter what you tell him. I’m certain he’s as stubborn as they come .
“Look, Frankie,” Tucker speaks up, his voice oozing with annoyance. “Obviously, Cameron is going to do whatever you need him to. He’s bound by contract. It’s that simple.”
Cameron grunts but doesn’t protest.
“Very well then,” Frankie mutters, giving the two of them an annoyed look. “I hope you don’t think we’re purposefully trying to torture you, Cam.”
“Right.” His gaze flicks to mine and I hold it, giving him a small smile.
His lips remain flatlined and he looks back at Frankie.
He can’t seriously be mad at me for this.
I don’t know why he would be. I’m just here to do my job.
“I think we can wrap up this meeting now that we know the plan. Everything has gone better than I expected.” Frankie pushes her chair back from the table and stands to her feet. “I’ll get a job posting ready and send the applicants your way to review, Nila.”
I nod. “Sounds good.”
I follow Cameron and Tucker out of the room and toward the front doors of the office, and the moment feels a little like déjà vu—only this time I’m not leaving with Cameron. I have an Uber waiting to take me back to my hotel.
“I think you’re doing a great job handling Frankie and Cameron.” Tucker drops back to walk beside me. “Neither of them are easy to deal with, and when you mix the two, it can be a nightmare. ”
“Yeah, I can imagine.” I can’t help but stare at the back of Cameron’s head in front of us, my mind replaying the way things have been going. He’s finally lightening up around me.
Figures my time would be cut short before I even have a chance to enjoy it.
“What’re you doing this evening?” Tucker’s question surprises me, and I glance over at him, meeting his dark brown eyes. He’s handsome in his own right, but...
“I’m just planning on relaxing at the hotel.”
“For a little while, but then she’s coming out with me,” Cameron says, not even bothering to turn around. “She needs more content.”
Uh...
“Right. I forgot about that.” I laugh, playing it off.
“No problem.” Tucker eyes Cameron and then sighs. “If you need anything—or you want a break from the madness—here’s my card.” He pulls out a business card and hands it my way.
Despite having no interest in him, I still blush. “Thanks.”
Tucker gives me a half-smile and then slips out the door, patting Cameron on the shoulder. “See ya.”
Cameron stops short of the exit and finally turns to face me. “I guess he just had to shoot his shot.”
I raise my brow at his sharp tone. “What?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s unprofessional.”
“Tucker giving me his business card? ”
“Come on, Nila.” Cameron makes a face. “You can’t seriously not have known that he was hitting on you. You’re gorgeous, that probably happens all the time.”
My cheeks flush and I can’t help but smile at the realization that he called me gorgeous—but I play it off. “I’m aware of what he was doing, yes. I just don’t let it bother me.”
“Are you gonna call him?” He lingers with his hand on the door, running his tongue along his bottom lip.
I can’t tell if he’s bothered because it’s unprofessional or if it’s because of … something else...
“No, I’m not gonna call him.” I keep my tone light as I push through the doors, leaving Cameron to catch up with me this time.
“I can give you a ride back to your hotel.”
“That’s generous, but I think I’ll stick with the Uber. They’re less likely to kill me in the process.”
“Uh, that’s a very big assumption. You don’t actually know that. They could be a terrible driver. Or worse, they could be a serial killer with a clean driving record.”
I stop at the edge of the sidewalk, my feet aching in my heels. “Well, that’s a valid point, but I’ll take my chances. Given the fact that I already know how you drive...”
“Okay, fine, but I’ll still pick you up in a few hours?”
My heart jumps. “So, you were serious about going out then? ”
He nods. “Yeah. From what I gathered, you still need some content or whatever.”
“It wouldn’t hurt. It’ll help whoever gets hired to take my place.”
He pauses, shifting on the sidewalk as my Uber pulls up. “Will they follow me around the same way you do?”
I smile. “No, they won’t. They’ll more than likely have you send them pictures and then post them for you. It won’t be the same as this. It’ll be way less stressful.”
“Hmm.” Cameron looks at me for a long moment before leaning forward and opening the back passenger door of the Uber for me. “I’ll pick you up around eight.”
“Okay.” I push away the flutters in my stomach as I slide in and buckle my seatbelt.
“Take care of her,” he says to the Uber driver.
The car pulls away from the glass-windowed office building and I pull out my phone, feeling a mixture of emotions.
And I need to talk to someone about it.
Like my gran.
But she’s not here anymore.
I clutch my necklace and begin to scroll through my social media friends , but none of them are close enough to me that I’d share how I’m feeling. At least, not anymore.
I land on my friend Brittany’s name, but I haven’t talked to her in months … and I’m pretty sure she only befriended me so she could use my platform to gain more followers.
Ugh.
Feeling a wave of loneliness wash over me, I realize just how isolated I’ve become since Gran passed away.
I close my phone, the bright screen a harsh reminder of my lack of connection with anyone meaningful. I might have close to a million followers on Instagram, but not a single one of them feels like someone I can talk to.
And that makes it all the lonelier.