Then—my brain starts turning.
“Honestly?” I say. “Yeah.”
He smiles. “Good. Because we could use it. Been trying to find creative ways to get people in here. What do you charge? If you make some videos for us?”
“Oh, uh…”
I just throw out a random number, using all the liquid courage I currently have in me. “I charge five thousand per post.”
My heart hammers. I have no idea where I got the balls to put that number out there.
Well, maybe I do.
Logan’s voice echoes in my mind.I like it when you have the balls to ask for what you want. You should do that more often.
George studies me, and I worry that I’ve overshot myself. I’m insane. That’swaytoo much.
“Sounds good,” he finally says, to my utter surprise. “Do you charge a bonus if it goes viral?”
I clear my throat. “Yes. It’s one thousand per fifty thousand views.”
He nods. “Done. Let’s talk later. You can get my information from Jackson.”
“Sounds perfect,” I manage to croak, sounding as businesslike as humanly possible, given the imposter syndrome that’s kicking in.
When he leaves, I feel Jackson’s hand squeeze my shoulders.
“Sis.”
“Bro,” I jokingly chide him back.
He laughs. “Did you just pull off what I think you pulled off?”
Ivy chimes in. “She’s a social media professional now. That was honestly some of the best negotiation I’ve ever seen. Have you been manifesting or something?”
Manifesting? Only if you count sex magic, apparently.
I shrug and sip my drink. “Thanks for the introduction.”
“Ohhh, you’re not gonna downplay that,” Jackson booms. “Hey everyone, we’re kid-free today, and I’m buying another round of drinks. Who wants one?”
I shrug. “I mean the beersareonly five dollars. Way better than the major leagues these days.”
“That’sthe attitude I like. Let’s go. Where’s the beer guy?”
“Cass,” Ivy says suddenly, nudging me. We’re well into the fourth inning of the game, and the vibes are high.
My mind is already swirling with ideas for a post for the team on social media.
That’s when I look up and see Logan walking up to the plate.
Everything else kind of…fades. The noise. The crowd. It all dulls for a second.
He adjusts his gloves, rolling his shoulders once.
And then he looks up, right at me.
My breath catches, because there’s no way he should be able to see me this clearly from the batter’s box.
