She’s wearing that goddamn red lipstick again.
I blow out a breath.
“I secured our air travel for the charity event on Monday,” she begins.
“What if I’m cleared to play?”
“Shouldn’t affect our schedule. We fly in early Monday, and it’s back to Vegas Tuesday afternoon. We’re getting some positive response to spinning thefightat the lounge over the weekend as you defending a woman, namely, me. A teammate’s sister. A teammate who you’ve recently spoken out against. It’s actually all coming together nicely,” she says, scanning her notes as she talks. “I’ll need you to continue to stay off socials while we work behind the scenes on your image. With that said, Ellie has a handful of sponsorship opportunities we’d like you to take a look at.”
Well. These women work fast, that’s for damn sure.
They have connections that I guess I didn’t realize. Having Ellie Dalton on my side is probably a bigger advantage than I first thought. Maybe having Everleigh fighting for me is, too.
I think about my parents again. I don’t give a shit about my dad, but the legacy my mother is leaving behind is, well,me, and apart from being good at football, I don’t think I’m doing justice to the legacy she would wish for me.
When Everleigh mentioned that yesterday, it was the first time I ever thought about how the way I act could reflect negatively on my mother. How what I do could affectherlegacy.
For the first time, it made me want tobebetter. For her.
“Show me,” I say.
She pushes a contract toward me, and the first one is for a sports drink. The next is for a luxury watch brand, and then a tech startup, a meal prep company, and a line of athletic apparel.
They’re all fine. Nothing that will change the world. Nothing that will make it a better place…which leads me to wonder something. “What’s the purpose of these?”
“I mean, the main goal of sponsorships is to make money outside of your contract, right? But in terms of what we’re doing here, we’re crafting an image. You get to choose whoyou want to be. Purely an athlete who’s always grinding and working hard? Take the sports drink and apparel. Want to pull off a more polished, elite feel? The watch. Want to seem innovative? The tech startup. And the meal prep, this one in particular, could make you appear like you’re just a normal guy who still needs to eat when you get home from work. It gives ajust like usvibe that could connect you to your fanbase.”
“What if I just want to sponsor products I actually like and would use?” I ask.
She lifts a shoulder. “Then that’s the image you’re portraying. If you’d start being less aggressive with me, we could possibly craft that image together and go from there.”
I clench my jaw and grit my teeth a bit at the thought. Ihavebeen an asshole toward her, but it’s nothing new. It’s how I am toward everyone.
“The first one. The athlete always grinding. Except when a teammate injures me.” I gingerly pat my ribs.
Her lips lift in the smallest smile. “Okay, that’s a good start. So yes on the drink and the apparel?”
“I’m not elite or innovative, so those are a no.” I push those papers to the side. “This one, though. The meal plan. I could be a normal guy who needs to eat when he gets home.”
“And the best part is they’re not just paying you, but they’ll send you free meals for the next year.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I eat pretty clean.”
“Then you take in the shipment and pass them over to your neighbor,” she says pointedly.
I very nearly laugh. Almost. It’s more of a grunt, as if I have to rewire my entire being in order to actually make myself laugh again, but it’s the closest I’ve been in a long time.
“Deal.”
“Maybe we can even whip them up together sometime,” she says absently.
“Are you asking me on a date?” I ask.
Her eyes widen, and her cheeks turn nearly the same shade as her lips. “No!”
Another grunt that’s nearly a chuckle.
She huffs a little as she pulls out a pen so I can sign the contracts I’ve agreed to. She practically yanks them back after I sign each one, and it’s actually quite amusing to see her a little flustered.
