“Bike stunts?” Brock threw out.
“Dancing with the Redrocks?” Ashley added.
“Oh. My. Gosh.” Sheila rose halfway out of her seat. “I’ve got it.” Could they really do this? There was so much that had to be done. A to-do list grew in her head like someone had thrown magic beans in there.
Ashley grabbed her hand and shook it. “What?”
“We hold tryouts for a mascot.” She beamed. “We can invite gymnasts, cheerleaders, stunt guys, daredevils. Heck, we can invite the general public to try out.” The hair on her arms stood on end. “I’m getting goose bumps.” She rubbed her palms against the bumps.
Brock shook his head. “We don’t have a mascot.”
“That’s the beauty of it. We have the children pick the mascot—from, say, three options. Grades seven through twelve can compete to design the costume. And anyone over eighteen can try out. We reveal all the winning entries at the finale to draw in families.” She was shaking with excitement. “We can even sell merchandise. Collectible tee shirts with the Redrocks logo and a huge question mark underneath. Posters. Foam fingers. The works.”
One side of Brock’s mouth lifted in a sultry smile. “Teddy bears?”
Sheila’s heart stopped. She swallowed hard in an effort to find her voice. “Yeah.”
Ashley slid the pad of paper in front of her, flipped to a new page, and started taking notes. “We’ll make the tickets the ballots. That way they have to buy a ticket to vote. They’re cheap, so people may buy more than one.”
Thank goodness for a focused best friend. “Brilliant. Okay. Okay. Okay.” Sheila splayed her fingers out in front of her. “I see three rounds of competition. Open tryout. Semifinals. Finals. At the open tryout, we reveal the mascot. A bear or tree or whatever.”
Brock folded his arms. “It cannot be a tree.”
She swatted at him. “We’ll figure that out in a minute. At the semifinals, we reveal the winning design. At the finals, we put the winner in the suit at the end of the round.” She clapped her hands together. “Yep. I think that will work. We can have the finals the Saturday before Halloween—it’s perfect because of the whole costume thing.”
Ashley grinned, her pen moving furiously. “We should invite kids to dress up and trick-or-treat at the stadium.”
“Should we order more bags?” Publicity was an area where you had to spend money to make money. It was so frustrating. She wasn’t even sure what her budget for this project was—she probably should have asked that before she’d taken the assignment. Well, it wasn’t like she could have said no.
“Naw, have them bring their own.” Brock folded his arms over the back of the chair. “Back to this tree thing.”
Sheila took in the firm set to his mouth. He had a really nice mouth. His bottom and top lips were equally proportioned. They were slightly pink in a totally manly way. Though they’d go deeper in color after a good kissing session, she was sure.
Ashley cleared her throat, and Sheila blinked back to reality. “I’m googling mascot options.”
Sheila stole another look at Brock’s lips and then dropped her gaze. The things a man could do with lips like that. Kissing was just the tip of the iceberg. Whisper sweet words. Whistle when she walked out in that tight black dress. Did she mention kissing?
“Blobfish,” said Ashley.
“No.” Sheila and Brock shot it down at the same time. His voice snapped her out of her kissing daydreams. “We’re in a desert,” Sheila added to prove to herself that she could have a coherent thought with the hottie sitting right there, looking all … hot.
“And I am not playing for a team that has a wussy mascot.”
“Oh really?” Sheila challenged.
“Really.”
Game on. “What about the St. George elephants? They’re a desert animal and some have tusks.”
“Would ours have tusks?” he asked.
She eyed him thoughtfully. “Probably not.”
“Then no.” His firm stance and the slightly defensive jut of his chin said Sheila was pushing his buttons. She liked it. She exchanged a conspiratorial look with her bestie.
Ashley looked back down at her phone. “A mongoose. They’re native to the area.”
“No.”
