2. Cassy #3
We’re so excited to have you on board. The energy and expertise you bring are already making waves (in the best way).
Bullshit. They don’t even know me.
I carry on reading.
Don't hesitate to reach out to anyone on the team—we're here to support you.
P.S. Coffee runs are competitive. First one to the kitchen gets dibs on the hazelnut creamer.
—The PR Wolves (we're not calling ourselves that, but we might)
I smirk, fold it, and toss it gently onto the corner of the desk.
I slide open the drawer and place the stack of media passes inside like they’re top-secret credentials, because, let’s be honest, they kind of are, then shut the drawer with a soft click.
I’m just about to hit the power button on the monitor when— knock knock.
“Come in.”
The door swings open, and in walks Riley, holding a Vegas Aces coffee mug like it’s sacred cargo.
She sets it down in front of me. “Okay. First things first—I’ll show you how to log in.
Then in about…” she glances at the wall clock behind me.
“Thirty-five minutes, we’ve got a meeting with the coaching staff.
Then, after that, another meeting with the rest of the Media and Communications Department. ”
“Okay,” I say flatly. “Do I get a medal for surviving my first one?”
“You get coffee,” she says. “And a department laptop. So, you know. Same thing.”
She walks around the desk and leans over slightly, clearly enjoying her ‘tech guru’ moment, and types in a few things like she’s hacking into the Pentagon.
“What’s the meeting about?” I sip the coffee. It’s perfect. Of course, it is, Riley wouldn’t dare bring me anything less than espresso excellence.
“Let’s just say it's a deep dive into media strategies for the season,” she says. “Plus, a good chance to meet everyone. Press staff, social team, analytics people, there’s even a guy whose entire job is tracking emoji engagement.”
“God, I love this place.”
“Right. How to log in.” She turns the monitor toward me. “Username is your email without the domain, password is temporary, change it or suffer the wrath of IT.”
I tap it all in, nodding.
“Now,” she continues. “Grab your department laptop.”
I unzip the new case and pull it out. It’s light. Sleek. Probably smarter than half the guys I dated in university.
Riley shows me how to sync it with the main system and pulls up the meeting agenda on a split-screen:
09:45 AM – Coaching Staff Briefing
10:30 AM – Media Strategy Review
03:30 PM – Player Engagement Targets
“Done,” she says, glancing at the clock again. “Grab that.” She gestures to the laptop. “Let’s go, girl.”
I rise, snatching it up with a grin.
Okay. Meeting with the coaching staff. That means Dad and his drinking buddies.
Piece of cake.
***
Well… today has zipped by.
And a ‘piece of cake’? No. Definitely not. But it was fun. Even if my dad, sorry, Coach McCullum, acted like he couldn’t pick me out of a two-person lineup. That suits me just fine.
It’s almost 5:45, and I’m just leaving the media lounge after our 3:30 meeting that felt like a group project with very ambitious overachievers.
Player Engagement Targets, the big kahuna of PR buzzwords. The kind of meeting where everyone looks way too awake, the slide decks are color-coded, and someone has actually pre-highlighted their notes.
We covered everything, strategies for making sure our guys don’t accidentally implode on camera, social media campaigns that don’t involve shirtless videos unless approved, community outreach that feels real, not forced. The whole nine yards.
Riley took the reins when it came to managing player-driven initiatives.
She was basically running the room and pretending she wasn’t.
Tarquin and Suzanna, our Media Relations specialists, brought in a color-coded calendar like it was the Holy Grail and talked about interview scheduling and keeping players from repeating, “We gave it 110%” like broken records.
I offered up my thoughts on digital engagement. Suggested a few things that might actually work, short-form content that doesn’t make people roll their eyes, letting the players show personality without turning into clowns.
Andrew, our PR guy with a voice like a podcast intro, made sure all messaging would stay locked in with the team’s brand. Whatever that means. He says, “narrative cohesion” a lot.
Musa, Gretchen, and Holly, the content squad, gave us a full breakdown of their plan to build out some player-driven media content. Behind-the-scenes stuff, fan polls, even a series idea called ‘Roomies on the Road’. It’s weirdly good.
Valerie quietly nodded thoughtfully and threw in just enough words to remind us she was the boss. Strategic alignment, synergy, team ethos. You know. Corporate mating calls.
Yes, I’m exhausted. Yes, it was a little awkward being the new girl with a legacy last name. But, all in all, I loved it.
With most of the department clearing out, I start making my way back to my office. The chatter’s dying down, chairs are pushed under desks, and keyboards are abandoned. People wave as they leave—
“Great job today, Cassy.”
“You’re settling in nicely.”
“Love the blouse.”
I’m half-smiling my way through it like a damn mayor until I pass Valerie, already on her way out, tailored suit, her phone in hand, probably emailing someone important about an emergency involving fonts.
She spots me and calls out, “Well, Cassy, I must say, I’m very impressed with your first day.”
She waits for me to catch up as she turns toward the exit. “Everyone loves you.”
“Miracles do happen,” I say.
She cracks a grin. “Make sure you’re in nice and early tomorrow morning.”
“You got it,” I reply as I nearly walk into Riley.
“Hey, girl.” She's looking way too pleased with herself. “Where are we drinking tonight?”