Chapter 7 - Josie
Josie
For fuck’s sake. This guy was more self-involved than I expected. Acting like his time was more valuable than mine.
I mean, sure, it was more valuable than mine. But it was a dick move to actually say so out loud.
We sat there in silence, drinking our unspeakably-expensive wine. The bottle was empty by the time the appetizers arrived, so I ordered another.
“Unfortunately, that was the last of that vintage from our cellar,” the server explained. “It was a limited release, you see. Quite rare.”
“Oh, I do see,” I said in a fake-haughty tone. “You did a good job selecting this bottle. Pick out another one for us?”
Grayson clenched his jaw like he had anger issues he was trying to control, then opened the wine menu and selected another bottle.
I had the urge to pull out my phone and check the views on my latest video, but I resisted it.
“Help me understand how you got here,” Grayson said while the server fetched the wine. “Because I’m still confused about all of this.”
“We don’t have to make small talk,” I replied. “You don’t want to be here either, right? They make you do these kinds of events? We can drink the wine and eat the food in silence until it’s over.”
“It’ll make the date go by faster. And I’m kind of curious how a woman who doesn’t want to be here ended up winning the most coveted contest in San Antonio.”
“My friend signed me up,” I explained. “We both work in concessions at the Frost Bank Center.”
“I thought team employees weren’t allowed to participate in giveaways or contests,” Grayson said slowly. “They make that very clear to us.”
“Technically, I’m not a team employee. We’re all hired through a third-party company.
Loophole!” I picked up my wine glass, remembered that it was empty, and put it back down.
“Apparently they really liked the idea of an arena worker winning the contest, so they sweetened the pot. Offered me a bunch of cash to show up tonight.”
His sandy-blond eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “They had to pay you to be here?”
“Pretty sweet deal. Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it, though. Although I’m really enjoying the wine. Is it actually good, or is my opinion influenced by knowing that it costs as much as my dad’s knee surgery?”
“It’s good,” he replied. “You know, most women would kill to be on this date. That’s not an exaggeration. I’ve met fans who would literally snap your neck and take your place if they could.”
I dug into my salad and said, “Too bad they didn’t win, huh?”
By the time the server brought the second bottle of wine, I had finished my salad and was going to town on the appetizers.
“What’s your job at the arena?” he asked.
“Concessions. I’m one of those beer girls. I liked walking around selling beer in the arena when the Spurs were the only team in town, because the tips are better out in the stands. But it’s freezing in there during hockey games. I hate it.”
“Why don’t you wear extra layers?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Gee, why didn’t I think about that? Of course I’ve worn layers. It’s never enough.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Relax. I didn’t realize the pussycat had claws.”
I ignored the comment.
“Because your name is Josie,” he pointed out. “You know. Like Josie and the Pussycats?”
“Wooooow,” I said mockingly. “Thanks for mansplaining a joke everyone in my life has been making since I was old enough to walk. You’re so original.”
“Okay, fuck off a little bit,” Grayson snapped. “I don’t want to be here either, you know.”
“Then why are you?” I demanded.
“Because I have to be.”
“You’re a multi-millionaire. You can do whatever you want.”
“Hah!” he barked a laugh. “Yeah, right. You have more freedom than I do.”
“I seriously doubt that,” I replied. “Your net worth is several orders of magnitude higher than mine, which means you have several orders of magnitude more freedom.”
“Money isn’t freedom. It comes with a million restrictions and requirements.”
His chair scraped as he stood up, and for a moment I thought he was going to storm out. But then he shrugged out of his suit jacket and folded it carefully across the back of the chair next to him.
I tried not to admire the way he looked in his vest and dress shirt. It really did look like it was tailored perfectly to his muscular frame.
He snorted at me.
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Damnit. He’d caught me looking.
“What do you want to do in life?” Grayson asked. “I’m assuming being a beer girl isn’t your dream job, but correct me if I’m wrong.”
“You don’t have to pretend like you care.”
“I don’t care,” he said bluntly. “I already told you: I’m just trying to make this date go by faster.”
I finished a plate of appetizers and pushed it away. I was weirdly annoyed that he didn’t want to be on the date either. Sure, I knew he was obligated to be here, but I at least expected him to pretend to be polite.
Maybe opening up a little bit would help.
“I’m trying to start my own career,” I admitted. “On TikTok.”
Grayson immediately began laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded.
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “It just seems like everyone wants to be an influencer these days.”
“I’m not an influencer.”
“Oh? Then what do you do? TikTok dances based on whatever the newest trend is? Or do you review products or something?”
I tried to keep my expression blank, but I must have failed based on his reaction.
“Ah, so it’s the latter. What kind of products do you review? Makeup? Workout clothes? Don’t tell me you wear those ridiculous yoga pants with the padding that makes your ass look bigger.”
“I don’t need to wear pants like that to get views.”
“Sure you don’t,” he said.
“Okay, fuck off a lot,” I shot back at him. “Do you know how it sounds having a super rich asshole making fun of someone just trying to get by? You’re not the good guy here.”
“Sorry.” He pulled out his phone, and I thought that was the end of our conversation. I was grateful for the silence.
But then his eyes widened and a smile split his chiseled face. “Hah! It is makeup videos! Called it.”
“How’d you find me?”
“I Googled your name. First thing that came up.”
“We can’t all play a game for a living. If I could make a stupid amount of money by waving a stick around like Harry Potter, I’d do that, too.”
Anger flashed behind his seafoam green eyes. “Your latest video has barely a hundred views. Doesn’t look like you’re making a living at all. Maybe you should wear tight yoga pants to get more views.”
That was the last straw. The last veneer of politeness disappeared and I slammed my palm down on the table.
“You’re exactly what I expected. A cocky asshole who’s used to everyone fawning over him.”
“I hate it when fans fawn,” he growled back at me. “But it would be nice if you were grateful for the opportunity you have. Do you know how lucky you are to be here tonight?”
“Oh yeah, lucky,” I replied. “I get to eat dinner in the presence of the great and wonderful Grayson Steel! A man who wears ice skates for a living. Just being within ten feet of the Steele Wall causes an involuntary orgasm every fifteen minutes. I’m on my third one right now! So lucky!”
I reached for the wine, and he snatched the bottle away. “Fuck you.”
“Fuck you,” I hissed back.
“This is officially the worst date I’ve ever been on,” he announced. “And I’ve been on some really bad ones. Congrats. You’re literally the worst.” He held his glass of wine up in a toast.
“You’re near the bottom of my list, too,” I shot back. “It’s a good thing this isn’t a real date, because there’s not enough expensive wine in the world to make me go home with you.”
“Hah!” he barked. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“It’s true. You’re repulsive.”
He narrowed his eyes. “For someone repulsive, you got quite an eyeful when I took my jacket off. And when we met outside.”
Getting called out made my stomach tighten, so I replied, “I saw you staring at my chest outside.”
He rested one arm across the back of his chair and gestured at me. “Because your tits are out for everyone to see. I’m only human, and you have a nice rack. I have to give you that. But let me tell you a little secret, pussycat: it takes more than a nice body to move my needle.”
I let out an annoyed growl. “You’d be lucky to sleep with me.” It sounded so bitchy, but my mind was swimming from the wine and I was pissed.
Grayson’s eyes moved down my body again, just like when we met outside. His gaze lingered on my chest, and he smiled.
“Eh,” he finally said. “You’re a solid eight. But I’ve got tens lined up to get into my bed.”
I clenched my jaw and tried not to tremble with rage. The worst part was that I knew he was probably telling the truth. He was famous, and he was not ugly, so he probably had women throwing themselves at him around the clock.
His smile deepened, like he could read my mind.
The photographer suddenly slipped into our room. “The main course is coming out now. I want to get a few shots.”
We glared across the table at each other as the server arrived with our entrées.
“Can I get a to-go box?” I asked. “I’m done with this evening.”
“Um…” The server glanced at each of us. “Yes, of course.”
“We’re scheduled for another hour,” the photographer warned. “We built in time for dessert and a nightcap.”
“I won’t be needing either,” I replied. “I’d rather drink sewage than spend another second with this man.”
Grayson leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his broad chest. The muscles in his forearms pressed tightly against the dress shirt as he sneered at me. “You’re a miserable person, you know that?”
“I’m not miserable at all.”
“You’ve basically won the lottery, and you’ve found a way to be as unhappy as possible about it. Honestly, it’s impressive. I’ve never met anyone who could hit the jackpot and still find a way to let it ruin their day.”
“I wasn’t pissed off until you started making fun of my career,” I argued.
“Career.” Grayson smirked at me. “That’s a strong word, don’t you think?”
I turned to the photographer. “I hope you got a photo of that look right there. The condescending asshole attitude. Then again, I’m sure he looks that way all the time.”
The photographer chuckled, but quickly covered it up.
Grayson turned to the photographer and said, “She’s an aspiring TikTok influencer. You can tell she’s only aspiring because she sells beer at the arena.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you more,” he said. “And do you know why? Because when I leave here, I’m going back to my amazing life. And you have to go back to making pathetic makeup videos that only get twenty views.”
I bristled with anger. Not just at what he’d said, but how he’d said it, sneering at me like I was beneath him. It confirmed all my prior assumptions about the pro athlete.
“This date is over,” I said.
“Aren’t you going to wait for the doggy bag?” Grayson asked. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on your free meal.”
I did want to wait for the food, but I couldn’t let him win another point. Not after everything he’d said. And I really didn’t want to spend another second in his presence.
“Fuck off forever,” I said, grabbing my purse.
“You too!” he called cheerfully as I fled the restaurant.