Chapter 21 - Josie
Josie
When I drove to the Frost Bank Center on my day off, I didn’t know what Bob would propose.
But I knew what my answer would be.
I’d never been in a professional locker room before. It was a lot cleaner than I expected, and didn’t smell that bad. Much better than the locker rooms I remembered from high school.
It also felt like I was entering the cave of a dangerous predator, a feeling that intensified when I came around the edge of a locker and Grayson appeared.
He was sitting on a bench, bent low to untie his shoe.
Unlike scheduled games where they had to dress up, today was just a regular practice, so Grayson was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt.
The way he leaned forward made the powerful muscles in his shoulders and arms stand out in a way that I couldn’t ignore.
It had been two weeks since our date, but it felt like an eternity. Staring at him now, I realized just how relieved I was to see him again. To know that things weren’t ending with that kiss on the court.
And he was looking back at me like he was thinking the same thing.
Then that look in his eyes disappeared, and he growled, “What’s she doing here?”
But the anger wasn’t directed toward me.
“Wait a minute,” he suddenly said. “Did you reneg on your deal with Josie? Did you refuse to pay her?”
I blinked in surprise. Was he… defending me against Bob?
I was annoyed at first, then felt a pleasant warmth in my chest at having him on my side, and then I felt annoyed by that feeling.
“Here’s the deal,” Bob said. “Everyone loves you two. We’ve gotten more social media engagement from this contest than I’ve ever seen before!”
“Not surprising, since this franchise is only a year old,” I pointed out.
Bob shook his head at me. “I worked for the Blackhawks and Bruins before this. Trust me: this engagement is rare. We expected a huge spike in engagement when the winner was announced, but thought it would fade away soon after. But we’re seeing the opposite.
San Antonio isn’t a big town, and your relationship has created waves.
We’ve had fans contacting our office asking about you two. ”
“There is no relationship,” Grayson pointed out.
“Fake relationship. Whatever the hell you want to call it. The bottom line is that people want more.”
“Just tell us what you want,” Grayson said, sounding tired. I crossed my arms and nodded.
“Three more dates,” Bob said.
Grayson groaned, but glanced at me. Was he looking at my chest? His eyes lingered there a moment before cutting back to Bob.
“Three more dates,” Bob repeated. “You two seemed to fake it well enough at the Spurs game. Just keep doing that a few more times. Then we can have your fling end amicably. I’ve got a team of interns brainstorming interesting ways to make that happen.”
“Why would I agree to this?” Grayson asked.
“Besides the fact that you signed a contract and have to do whatever we want?” Bob replied bluntly.
Grayson clenched his jaw and he gripped the bench tightly with both hands, but he said nothing.
“We’ve asked a lot of you, so we have a compromise,” Bob said. “Your contract requires ten media appearances per year.”
“I’m well-the-fuck aware.”
“If you go on three more dates, they won’t just count for this year,” Bob explained. “They will also count against next year’s requirements. So you’ll only need to do seven.”
Grayson’s eyes widened. He would have made a bad poker player, because he was obviously intrigued.
“You now have my full, undivided attention,” he said.
Both of them turned to look at me.
“What’s in it for me?” I asked.
Bob grinned. “I’m glad you asked! Let’s discuss your TikTok side hustle.” He held up an iPad that I hadn’t noticed. “This graph shows the weekly amount of engagement on your channel. You can see how flat it was prior to your two dates with Grayson.”
“My popularity shot up after the dates. We already knew that. Also, you don’t need to mansplain my own channel metrics to me.”
Grayson snorted at that. I gave him a grateful look.
“Then you know the next slide I’m going to show you.
” Bob swiped to the next screen. “You peaked thanks to the dates—and, more specifically, your kiss appearing on SportsCenter. But in the two weeks since then, your views have slowly begun declining. Not by a lot, but the slide is undeniable. Each new video you post is a little less successful than the previous one. You’re coasting, Ms. Harper. Running on fumes.”
I tried to keep my face blank, but Bob had called my bluff.
I’d spent the past two weeks watching my views slowly decline every day.
I was still vastly more successful than I was before winning the contest, but I was terrified of sliding into irrelevance.
It’s like I could feel my fifteen minutes of fame drying up.
Hearing Bob say it out loud was like having a knife twisted into my gut.
“More publicity means more views,” Bob said simply. “But we’re prepared to sweeten the pot for you. The Surge social media team will work with you on cross-promotion. We will repost or link three of your videos, to be agreed upon by both parties.”
Now I knew my eyes were widening like Grayson’s earlier. Even though the team was only a year old, the Surge has a powerhouse marketing team. Their social media presence was a million times larger than my own. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like if they reposted even a single video of mine.
“Five videos,” I negotiated.
Bob gave me an apologetic smile. “Three is the maximum amount we are prepared to do at this point. We are already upsetting our other sponsors by doing this much for someone whose brand is so… insignificant. No offense.”
“Offense taken,” I replied before glancing at Grayson. He didn’t look happy. “I’m in, as long as he is.”
His scowl deepened. “Don’t put this on me.”
“I don’t want to agree to something if you’re going to pout about it the entire time.”
“I have never pouted in my entire life.”
“You pouted plenty during the Spurs game,” I said. “You’re just good at hiding it.”
Grayson pursed his lips. Despite his excitement about the deal Bob offered, he looked like he wanted to say no. I resisted the urge to point out that he was very much pouting right now.
He turned away from me. “Fine.”
“Fine what?” Bob asked. “Say the words, just so you don’t try to weasel out of this later.”
“Fine, I’ll go on three more fake dates with the pussycat.”
Hearing the nickname again made me want to reject the deal, but I swallowed my pride and nodded at Bob. “Send me the contract and I’ll sign it.”
Bob practically sighed with relief. “All right. We’re in business. Thanks for working with us on this, you two.”
“I’m just in it for the cross-promotion,” I said.
But as I shared one final look with Grayson before leaving the locker room, I remembered what I knew the moment I walked into the Frost Bank Center.
I would have said yes no matter what.