Page 8 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO
“Confidence isn’t good enough,” I say, my tone firm but even. “I need certainty. I need feedback on progress next week.”
Jeremy straightens in his seat. “Got it, Mr. Callahan. I will double the team’s efforts.”
“See that you do,” I say, staring at him and everyone, watching them squirm. “Any other update?”
Cynthia, the marketing head, chimes in. “We have a lot of creative ideas coming together. The PR team has been coordinating with the designers, and we are confident this campaign will resonate with fans and players alike.”
I nod. “Good. I want visuals that stand out. Dynamic shots of the players in action, not just staged poses. Authenticity sells. If people believe it, they will buy it.”
Elias leans forward, chiming in. “The media team has already shortlisted a few photographers for the shoot. We are looking at a blend of lifestyle and sports specialists to make sure we get the tone right.”
I raise a brow. “How many are we bringing in?”
“Four,” Elias replies, “all top-tier talent. Two for the action shots and two for the behind-the-scenes lifestyle content.”
I nod again, taking a sip of my coffee. “Perfect. Just make sure they understand the stakes. We need this campaign to be flawless.”
Discussion flows from there, moving to color palettes, slogans, and the logistics of coordinating shoots with the team’s practiceschedule. I give input where it is needed, but for the most part, I let the team handle the details.
After two hours and everything in place, I stand and glance around the room. “Fine,” I say, my voice decisive. “Make it happen. Meeting adjourned.”
Everyone scatters as I head out the door. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I glance at the screen. It is Logan, and I already have an idea of why he is calling.
“Logan,” I answer, heading toward the elevator.
“Dude! Great job today, man. I caught the live stream,” he says, his voice practically humming with enthusiasm. “That demo? Solid. You have everyone hyped.”
I lean back against the elevator wall, smirking. “Glad to hear it. What do you want?”
There is a pause, but I can practically feel his grin through the line.
“In three, two, one…,” I mutter under my breath.
“Are you coming to practice, or should I tell the guys you’re too busy being Mr. Big Shot CEO now?” His tone is playful, but I catch the underlying seriousness.
I roll my eyes, but a grin tugs at my lips. “I am on my way. Seriously Logan, you need to stop asking me this. You know I will not miss a practice except for a good reason.”
“Good, because Coach is already on edge, and if you’re late, we’re all running suicides,” Logan warns, his tone only half-joking.
“Relax,” I say, stepping into the elevator. “I’ll be there.”
“Alright, see you soon, hotshot.”
Fifteen minutes later, I step into the arena. The chill in the air greets me like an old friend, and the familiar sound of skates cutting through the ice echoes faintly from the rink.
“Callahan!” Coach Mark yells from across the benches as I pull on my jersey. “You’re late.”
“I’m sorry, coach.”
“Only because today is good for you, so I’ll let it go. Congratulations on the launch, by the way.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
“Now, go join the others. We will be doing laps in five.”
I skate over to where the rest of the team is gathered near the bench, Logan spotting me first. He grins wide, immediately patting my back as I approach.
“Look who finally made it,” he says, his tone teasing.
