More like damnit.
She threw herself down on the other end of the wicker love seat with a sigh. Sometimes it was like Cash forgot he was famous. Like he thought he was some random football player and not easily the best quarterback in the NFC West, maybe even the whole league.
“You have millions of people watching you and not just when you’re on the field. You’re a celebrity now. You can’t shitpost and thirst tweet like you did when we were in college and expect to fly under the radar.”
“Geez, Poppy.” He groaned like she was killing him when it was the other way around. “I asked a girl out. It’s hardly the PR crisis you seem to think it is.”
“Look.” She pivoted, knees knocking his thigh. “As your publicist, you’ve entrusted me with maintaining and protecting your public image, and it’s not a responsibility I take lightly. But I can’tdo it, let alone do a good job at it, if you keep going rogue and tweeting every thought that pops into your head.”
“It’s hardlyeverythought.”
She threw her head back and stared up at the sky, silently praying for strength. “Cash.”
“Isn’t this what I pay you the big bucks for? To watch my back?”
Yeah, well, preventing fires from starting was preferable to putting them out in her book.
“You know I’d watch your back even if it wasn’t for the, quite frankly, absurd amount of money you insist on paying me, but—”
“Don’t sell yourself short.” Cash knocked his shoulder against hers and grinned. “We’re both playing in the big leagues now. Have you seen what they’re paying me? I’d be a dick if I didn’t pay you what I do. It’s, like, market value.”
Market value or not, what she wasn’t about to do was coast on their friendship and take advantage of his generosity. No, Poppy was going to be the best damn publicist Cash Curran could ask for, but she couldn’t do it with him constantly placing obstacles in her path.
How could she put this in a way that would get through to him? “The best offense is a good defense, yeah?”
Cash frowned thoughtfully. “That’s true.”
“All I’m asking is for you to exert a little impulse control. Look next time before you leap. Because, you’re right, thesearethe big leagues. Lyric Adair isn’t just some girl. She’s reached a level of superstardom that most people can’t even dream of attaining and she’s got a legion of loyal fans who will eat you alive if—”
“Herfans, sure.That’s who you’re worried about.” His lips twitched. “This has nothing to do with the fear boner you’ve got for her publicist.”
Poppy pointedly ignored the heat gathering in her cheeks and rolled her eyes. “Real mature, Cash.”
“And yet I don’t hear you denying it.”
“I donothave a fear boner for Rosaline Sinclair. What I have is a great deal of respect and—and deep admiration for a highly skilled industry veteran with a clear mastery of marketing and strategy.”
The lore surrounding the pop star’s publicist was vast, the woman a legend among Lyric’s fans and industry insiders alike. She was a force to be reckoned with, an utter PR mastermind who was capable and competent and unflinchingly cool under pressure. Everything Poppy aspired to be as a publicist, and fine, yeah, Poppy had eyes—Rosaline Sinclair was hotter than sin.
But that was neither here nor there. To cross her was to commit career suicide. Just ask Gavin Daniels. He dated Lyric Adair for four months when she was only seventeen, then went on some late-night talk show and claimed to have—barf—popped her cherry.Rumor had it not even film students at USC would work with him. All because Rosaline Sinclair had called in favors and pulled strings, quietly and ruthlessly working her magic behind the scenes to make Gavin Daniels a persona non grata in Hollywood.
“I don’t know,” Cash teased. “That sounds like a fancy way of sayingfear bonerto me.”
“For the love of God,” Poppy groaned. “Stop saying the wordbonerand stop trying to change the subject. Lyric Adair is not someone you mess around with.”
Cash’s mouth flattened into a grim line, his expression stricken. “Gee, that’s a real charitable interpretation of my intentions.”
Ah, shit. “You know that’s not what I—”
“No, seriously. I love knowing my best friend assumes the worstof me.” His smile didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”
Double shit.That wassonot what she meant. “I’m sorry, okay? You know you’re not the only one whose foot lives in their mouth.”
Cash harrumphed and crossed his arms. Apparently, he was really going to make her work for it. Grovel and everything.
“Iknow you’re a great guy with a heart of gold.” And a terrible romantic with an awful habit of believing everyone he dated wasthe one,leading to a string of short-lived relationships and a trail of broken hearts. Saying so would only dig the hole Poppy had tripped in deeper. “I only meant the optics might not be—”
“Fuck the optics.” Cash scoffed. “Isn’t that what you said when my parents were worried about me losing endorsement deals earlier this year?Fuck the optics?”
