“That’s not exactly my wheelhouse,” Tank joked.
Benny rolled his eyes.
“We’ll make the social media campaign work, Benny,” McKenna reassured her boss, before flashing Tank another of those disapproving looks he enjoyed so much. “If he takes it seriously.”
He scowled. “I’m taking all of this seriously.”
Benny tapped his pen on the table. “Tank, I’d like to take you at your word, but given the fact you’re a repeat offender, you have to understand our skepticism. That shit with the model last summer?—”
“We were just having some fun in a hot tub,” he interjected.
“It wasn’t a private hot tub,” Benny countered. “There were families staying at that resort with their kids.”
Roger shook his head. “How many team meetings have we had in the past year where we discussed our new family-friendly branding and our goals for the future?”
Tank rolled his eyes because as far as he was concerned, there’d been way too many of those stupid-ass boring meetings.
McKenna crossed her arms. “You know what? If you want to be a playboy asshole, talk to your agent and see if he can get you traded to Florida.”
Tank barked out a laugh. Jesus, the woman didn’t just have claws; she had fangs as well. He might have to rethink her nickname. He was suddenly leaning toward Dragon. God knew she was shooting all kinds of flames in his direction.
Roger covered his mouth, trying to hide his smile, and Benny looked amused as well. For a moment.
Then his attention turned away from Tank and toward McKenna. “She’s right. It’s time to take this seriously.”
“I’ll do as many publicity ops as you need, sign a million fucking autographs and pose for two million pictures. All I want to do is get back on the ice,” Tank reassured them.
Benny rubbed his chin, and Tank got the feeling the guy was trying to decide if he was sincere. Guess he really did have some work to do if he wanted to prove he wasn’t a screwup.
“You,” Benny finally said, pointing at McKenna.
She frowned, confused. “Me, what?”
“You’re in charge of the Tank overhaul.”
McKenna looked genuinely horrified. “I thought we were working together as a team?”
“We are, but you’re going to be our boots on the ground. Tank’s keeper.”
“Keeper?” he and McKenna said in unison, clearly neither fans of Benny’s suggestion.
The PR director never cracked a smile. “Keeper,” he reiterated.
McKenna shook her head. “But, Benny, he’s, uh, he’s a…”
“Horny bastard?” Tank supplied helpfully, perfectly aware that McKenna’s list of descriptors for him would not be flattering. “A womanizer? A manwhore? Or would you prefer to stick with the ones you’ve already listed. Addict. Misogynist. Asshole.”
McKenna bit her lower lip again, something Tank wished she would stop doing, because he was just now realizing she had very plump, pretty lips.
“Well?” he prodded.
“Those weren’t my words. They were comments from the fans,” she spat out.
“Asshole was all you,” he reminded her.
Benny ignored their interchange. “You know exactly what we’re up against here, Mac, and you’re well-versed in how to spin things in our favor. So you’ll go to all the promo ops with him, control the situation, make sure everything goes well.”
“Benny,” she started again, but her boss was on a roll.
