Chapter 9 Josie
Josie
“I’m just glad it’s over,” I told Sharon.
Rather than going home, I’d had the team driver drop me off at Sharon’s apartment. She poured me a beer while I filled her in on how the night had gone. Her eyes got progressively larger until the end of the story.
“I know fame turns people into assholes,” she said. “But I didn’t expect it to be that bad.”
“Told you so,” I gloated. “You said it would be fun.”
“At least you got paid for it!” she said. “If I had ten grand for every crappy date I went on, I’d be a rich woman. How was the food? I’ve been hinting to Kyle that I want to go to Carlo’s for my birthday.”
“I didn’t stay long enough for the main courses, but the salad was amazing. And we ordered a bottle of wine that cost seven thousand dollars. Like, a seven with three zeroes behind it.”
Sharon gasped. “You let me serve you Shiner Bock after drinking wine that costs more than my car?”
“Here’s a secret. I couldn’t tell the difference between that wine and the five dollar bottles I buy at the grocery store.” I took a long pull of my beer. “This tastes much better to me.”
“You’re crazy, you know that?”
I shook my head. “No. What’s crazy is being so rich that you can afford to spend thousands of dollars on wine.”
“Amen to that,” she said, clinking her glass to mine.
The front door opened, and her boyfriend Kyle strode inside. He did a double-take when he saw me. “Hi, Josie. I thought we were watching a movie tonight, babe?”
“Movie night is canceled,” Sharon said. “Josie is telling me about her awful date.”
“You can’t talk about that tomorrow? We had plans.”
Sharon grinned. “Josie was on a date with Grayson Steele.”
Kyle gasped. “Holy shit, really? Like, the captain of the Surge?”
“The one and only,” I replied.
“You’re so lucky!”
“So I’ve been told,” I said dryly. “I don’t want to interrupt your plans. You two have fun. I’ll tell you the rest at work tomorrow.”
“But now I want to hear about it,” Kyle said. “Where did he take you? Did you get to see where he lives? Did you two hook up? I’m not saying I want to know how big Grayson Steele’s penis is, but I don’t not want to know how big it is.”
“He was an asshole,” I said. “You don’t want to know.”
“Aw, man,” he said. “Never meet your heroes, I guess.”
I took an Uber home from Sharon’s place and went to bed. But I struggled to fall asleep. I was still all wound up from the date with Grayson. I kept replaying the evening in my head, reliving every insult and argument.
The part that bothered me the most was when he called me out for checking him out at dinner. I shouldn’t have gotten such a long eyeful. Honestly, that’s what pissed me off the most: Grayson wasn’t just an asshole, he was a very attractive asshole. He was hot shit and he knew it.
Ugh!
I slept like shit, which put me in a bad mood the next day. I spent the morning editing TikTok videos that I needed to publish this week, and then went to work that afternoon. The Spurs were playing at the arena today, so at least I wasn’t going to be freezing my ass off.
Small victories.
“I’m not carrying that stupid backpack again,” I argued with my boss. “Carter’s back isn’t injured. He’s just saying that to get out of working in the stands.”
“That’s not true!” Carter said, putting a hand on his lower back. “It hurts so bad I can barely walk.”
“Really? Because I saw you in the parking lot. You sprinted to the door because you were running late.” I turned back to my boss. “He’s faking it, and I have seniority. I’m not carrying that backpack today.”
My boss pursed his lips, then told Carter, “If you want to get out of backpack duty, bring a doctor’s note.”
Carter groaned, then shouldered the beer case and left the concession stand.
“You’re feisty today,” Sharon whispered to me as we got back to work.
“I’m still riled up from last night’s date.”
“You should let it go,” she said. “It sucked, but it’s over. No point in dwelling on it, right?”
“I’m actually enjoying dwelling on it. Grayson was such an asshole. I wish everyone saw what I saw.”
A security guard approached the stand and nodded at me. “Josie Harper? Come with me, please.”
I felt myself tense. “Am I in trouble?”
“I’ve been told to escort you to Bob Trent’s office. That’s all I know.”
I turned to my boss. “I’ll be back. Unless they’re firing me.”
“They aren’t firing you! They’re probably giving you your check for the date. When you come back, you’ll be ten grand richer!”
“Hope you’re right,” I muttered as I followed the security guard. But I had a bad feeling about this.
I was escorted to the same luxury suite from the hockey game the other night. The arena had been transformed from an ice rink to a basketball court overnight, and the sound of squeaking tennis shoes and cheering fans drifted through the open windows into the suite.
Bob was waiting with a smile on his face. “Ms. Harper. Great to see you again. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the couch next to him.
“I’m on the clock right now, so I’ll stand while we get this over with,” I replied.
“Very well.” Bob’s lips pressed together. “I heard there were fireworks last night, and not the good kind.”
“That’s one way to put it. Grayson was a massive asshole to me the entire time.”
Bob chuckled. “I sympathize with you there. Dealing with Grayson Steele is like arguing with an angsty teenager. He wants to do the opposite of whatever we suggest.”
I was surprised to hear this guy agree with my assessment of Grayson. I nodded and said, “So, can I get my check now?”
“Here’s the thing,” he said with a wry smile.
I groaned internally. Here we go.
“The two of you did not fulfill the requirements laid out,” Bob explained. “The contract you signed stipulated a two hour date, with photographs before, during, and after. You left the restaurant after forty-five minutes. We didn’t get any photos at the end of the evening.”
“Great,” I muttered. “So you’re using a loophole to avoid paying me.”
“Ms. Harper, I assure you that we want to pay you. We have an eight-figure marketing budget. All we want is for you to hold up your end of the bargain.”
“Too late for that.”
“Actually,” he said, “it’s not. We want the two of you to go on another date.”
I snorted. “Fat chance. Find someone else.”
“Now that is something it’s too late for,” Bob replied. “Have you seen the social media engagement we’ve received on our posts?”
I frowned. “What posts?”
Bob retrieved an iPad from a nearby table and handed it to me. It was an Instagram photo of me and Grayson outside the restaurant, smiling like we were having a good time.
The post had thirty thousand likes, and over two thousand comments. I opened the comments and skimmed a few.
“They’re such a cute couple!”
“GORGEOUS! Love the dress!”
“If she’s not good enough for Grayson, give me a call!”
“Did he score last night, or just get an assist?”
“Power couple! Can’t wait for the wedding!”
“We’ve never had this much engagement on a team post before,” Bob bragged. “We expected enthusiasm to die off once the contest winner was selected, but it appears the fans are invested in your date with Grayson. You’re the hottest new couple in town.”
An incredulous laugh bubbled up from my throat. “We’re not a couple. We’re the opposite.”
“Surely you can give it another shot,” Bob said. “One more date. That’s all we’re asking for.”
“I most certainly will not give it another shot. The next time I see Grayson Steele, I’m dumping a glass of beer over his head.”
Bob took the iPad from me and scowled. “By refusing to go on another date, you’re throwing away ten thousand dollars.”
“I already went on one date, and you loophole’d your way out of paying me. Even if I go on another, you’ll find another way to screw me over. Or make me go on more dates.”
“I am sorry to hear that.” Bob put the iPad away and steepled his fingers together on his knee.
“Ms. Harper, let me make this very clear to you. We have already devoted significant resources to this contest, a contest which you won. We have already posted photos from your date, which means it is too late for us to announce a new winner. If you refuse to go on a full date with Grayson, as stipulated by your contract, then we will have no choice but to pursue legal action.”
I leaned toward him. “Let me make this very clear to you. I will never go on another date with that man. If that means you have to fire me and send your army of lawyers after me for breaching your precious contract, then so be it.”
I half expected the security guard by the door to stop me, but he didn’t move as I stormed out.
On the way back to my concession stand, I let out an annoyed snarl that caused a few fans to glance in my direction. I hated being manipulated like this. First Grayson, and now Bob the Marketing Asshole. Pushed around by men who had a lot more power and money than me.
If they fired me, so be it. I had made my decision. I wasn’t going to let them force me into doing something I didn’t want. I didn’t have the fame or influence they did, but I still had some control over my own life.
“Unbelievable,” I told Sharon when I got back. “Guess what they asked me.”
But she was staring at her phone. “Have you seen your videos?”
“Huh?”
“Apparently, after your date last night, a bunch of internet sleuths tracked down your info. They found your TikTok channel.”
I groaned. “Great. I’m guessing I have a bunch of rabid fans saying mean things in the comments? Claiming I’m not good enough for the amazing Grayson Steele, praise be his name?”
“The opposite—they love you!”
She showed me her screen, but I was already pulling my own phone out of my pocket.
The first thing I looked up was my channel metrics.
Most of my videos only got a few dozen views, but the video I’d posted this morning had eight thousand views.
My older videos had also seen a spike in views, as well as a few hundred comments.
Not only that, but there was a lot of action on the affiliate links I posted with each video. People were buying the makeup from my videos. I’d made over a hundred bucks from commissions today. That may not sound like a lot, but it was a big deal to me.
“Holy shit,” I said.
“You’re going viral!” Sharon exclaimed.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Viral videos got millions of views. But this was still a massive jump compared to the dozen or so views I was getting before now.
And it was all because of my date with Grayson.
Bob Trent approached my concession stand with the security guard. Both of them looked serious. It was pretty obvious what was about to happen.
“Ms. Harper, unfortunately you’ve forced our hand,” Bob began.
“Fine,” I interrupted. “I’ll do it.”