17. Chapter Seventeen #2
Super PawMart sent over the full ambassador kit this morning, and now her desk is buried under branded merchandise: three colorways of match-night bandanas (home navy, away white, alternate burnt orange), a collapsible water bowl with the SPM logo inside, a non-slip settle mat sized precisely for Section 118's aisle end, ear protection in a custom case, and a clip-on VIP pass that literally says "Ranger St. Clair - Brand Ambassador. "
I pick up the pass. "This is insane. If the custom jersey from Kevin's mom didn't already go to Ranger's head, this will make him insufferable."
As if to emphasize my point, Ranger circles in front of Paige's desk three times, then flops on the floor. He pushes one big exhale out of his nostrils. Everyone knows who's in charge here.
A Labrador Retriever has a VIP pass and a six-figure income.
Granted, LSP is the primary beneficiary of his stardom, but I'm still over here worried about making if we’re really going to be able to swing this rent increase.
It all still seems too good to be true. The universe is trying to mess with me.
"This is a six-figure deal," Paige corrects, tapping her color-coded binder. "We're treating it like one. Okay, game day protocol for the launch."
She pulls up a detailed arena map on her monitor and I lean in, taking notes.
"Arrival T-minus three hours — service corridor, VIP pass, settle drill before the bowl.
Then your Gear Check Reel." Paige taps her screen.
"Thirty to forty-five seconds. Unbox the bandana, show the gear.
Super PawMart wants authentic hockey-fan-who-happens-to-be-a-dog content, so just let Ranger be himself. Post to his socials with their tag."
I make a note. "What's his follower count now?"
"Fifty-two thousand on Instagram. Growing steadily since the calendar was announced." She grins. "Tyler's not even at half of what Ranger has and is actively bitter about it. Shows up in my office twice a week asking about TikTok challenges."
That totally checks out. Tyler's rookie energy checks every box of every stereotype. "The dog doesn’t post cringey dancing content."
"The dog has a better handler." Paige flips a page.
"T-minus one-forty-five to one-fifteen is your concourse booth appearance with Barb and Diane.
Ten to fifteen minutes max, capped at twenty photos.
Ranger stays on the settle mat the entire time — no paws on the floor.
We'll have the 'Pup of the Game' adoption spotlight and QR codes for donations.
And then I need you to make sure Barb's good to go with these guidelines for booth setup. "
"Consider it done. Diane's managing the QR code donations. They're both absolutely living for this."
Paige slides over a schedule. "First intermission is your Hydration Break sponsored content. Fifteen to twenty seconds of Ranger drinking water at his seat. We'll add a lower-third graphic in post."
I'm writing everything down when the office door opens.
Kevin fills the doorway in a workout shirt that's clinging to his chest in ways that are absolutely not helpful to my concentration.
His hair's been styled by sweat, making it curl just enough to look accidentally perfect, and he's still got wrist tape on from the lifting session it looks like he just finished.
My entire body responds before my brain can stop it. Heat pools low and urgent, and suddenly I'm very aware of how damp my thin leggings are becoming.
Fantastic. Because what I need right now is to be attracted to a man who looks like he just stepped out of a sports equipment ad while I'm trying to memorize Ranger's game-day call sheet.
Ranger bounces up immediately, tail going full helicopter mode.
Must be nice to not have to keep it casual in front of every single person affiliated with the Austin Stampede. Must be nice to just be excited about seeing someone without worrying about what it looks like.
I'm so fucking jealous of a Labrador Retriever.
"Sorry," he says, clearly not sorry. "Didn't mean to interrupt the celebrity's schedule." He gives Ranger a scratch behind the ears.
Ranger's in heaven.
And now, I'm even more jealous of him.
Damn it, Ranger. After all I've done for you.
"Your dog has a call time," Paige says without looking up. "He's more professional than half my players."
Kevin jumps right into the discussion and locks eyes on me, even as he continues to scratch Ranger's head.
"I talked to Tim in Security. They've assigned you both a dedicated usher and a game ops liaison. Section 118, row end. It’s the best aisle footprint in the bowl.
Goal horn's loudest right after intros, so if Ranger needs to bail, nearest quiet exit is here.
" He taps the map exactly where Paige has it marked.
"Already noted," Paige says. "But thank you for mansplaining our own event plan."
"Just trying to help." He's trying not to smile and failing, and I'm trying not to stare at him in that sweaty shirt and also failing.
I shouldn't find this attractive. I do anyway. How the hell does Kevin St. Clair make even mansplaining sexy?
I wouldn't take this shit from anyone else. But as long as Kevin keeps talking, he can say what he wants for right now. Because then I can keep staring at him in that sweaty shirt.
I am absolutely not thinking about other sweat-inducing activity Kevin has taken part in recently.
"Second intermission is your Ranger's Rescue Pick," Paige continues, and I try to check back into the conversation.
She's pulling up her content calendar. "Thirty-second reel from the booth featuring one adoptable dog with a QR code.
Kevin will do a quick voiceover in advance about the dog's story.
Lindy and her team will handle the graphics and posting externally at the same time. "
"Which dog are we featuring tomorrow?"
"Buttercup. The senior doodle who just came in from the county shelter." Paige makes a note. "She's photogenic and her story will resonate."
Kevin leans against the doorframe. Ranger thumps his tail. "What about postgame?"
"Treat boop if Austin wins," I tell him. "Ten-second Story of Ranger getting a Super PawMart treat. If we lose, just a calm 'see you next game' with him yawning."
Kevin shakes his head. "The dog has better PR instincts than our top line."
Paige doesn't look up from her laptop. "The dog takes direction better than Liam and Aiden, for starters."
"We should run through the hand signals one more time. Make sure we're on the same page for tomorrow." Kevin pushes off the doorframe. "Arena's going to be loud as hell. Want to make sure he's sharp."
We move to the center of the office. Ranger gets to his feet, immediately attentive. He knows when it's work time.
"Down," Kevin says, palm flat and angled down. Ranger drops immediately.
"Stay," I follow, palm out, fingers up. Ranger holds position, eyes tracking between us.
"Settle." Kevin's making a motion at hip level. Ranger relaxes his stance but stays focused.
"Water," I finish, cupped hand to lips. Ranger's ears perk, looking toward his bowl on Paige's credenza.
Kevin grins at his dog and gives him a playful rub on the muzzle. "Still got it, buddy."
"He's going to be perfect." I watch Ranger lean into Kevin's hand, completely secure that his person has him. "You trained him well."
"We trained him well," Kevin corrects. "You've worked with him just as much as I have at this point."
I have. I loved Ranger from the first moment I pulled him from the Travis County shelter. Wanted to make him mine, but my shoebox over a sports bar wasn't a place for a smart, spirited Lab. But then Kevin adopted him and I became friends with Kevin to keep Ranger in my life.
And somewhere between dog-sitting during road trips and becoming his brand deal handler, Ranger wasn't just the dog I rescued or the dog Kevin adopted.
He became ours.
I can’t decide if that is normal or weird or overwhelming or weirdly overwhelming. Do people who aren’t couples consider themselves equal dog parents?
I’ve spent my entire life around dogs and adopters, and I legit can’t answer my own question.
"Oooh." Paige finally looks up from her screen. "You know, we could do some joint content. Kevin and Sarah managing Ranger together. The fans would eat that up."
"No," Kevin says immediately.
For a split second, I'm a little offended by how quickly he dismissed it.
But he's following the rules.
Joint social media content is absolutely not gonna keep anything on the down low.
"Why not?" Paige asks. "You're his owner. She's his handler. It's a natural storyline."
Kevin's jaw tightens slightly. "Because this is Sarah's job. I'll be on the ice. She's the one managing his schedule, his appearances, his content. I'm just..." He looks at me. "I'm just the guy who gets to come home to him at night."
The way he says it— like coming home is best part of his day — makes me think of all the times he walks in the door after road trips.
Because I remember how he came home to me after Vancouver. After Dallas. We both know now that Ranger isn't the only one he looks forward to coming home to.
But it has to stay our little secret.
Paige studies us both for a long moment, then mercifully goes back to her laptop. "Fine. But for the record, you're both missing a golden opportunity for adorable content."
Kevin completely ignores it. He reaches down to scratch Ranger's ears. "You ready for your big debut, sir?"
Ranger's tail thumps against Paige's carpet.
"That's my boy." Kevin straightens, checking his watch. "I should head home. Need to shower and nap before tonight's game."
"I'll come watch in the third after the booth closes," I say.
"Sounds like a plan." He lingers for just a second, like he wants to say something else. Then just nods. Casual. "Text if you need anything."
"We will."
When he leaves, Paige waits exactly three seconds before she speaks.