Page 32 of Collateral Damage
Whelp.
We need to cast perfection if we’re going to getTop of the Worldgreen-lit for a second season. Only the best will get our show the kind of viewership and ad revenue needed to hit our goals.
I remind myself why I’m doing this.
For my family. My name. My chance to be director of the Foundation and all the good I can create with that position. For Perry’s future and even for Cooper. As messed up as it is, I’m also doing this for Dad.
Even though he’s gone, Istillwant him to be proud of me.
“Tell me what’s hard about it being a professional athlete, besides the obvious?”
He shrugs. “When you’re the biggest star on the ice, the manager is going to be up your ass about being perfect. You’d think they’d be happy about the wins, but they care a lot about public image and the brand. Not just one player.”
“Hmm.” I nod. “Sounds like you need to do some PR.”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even start.”
“Let me ask you this. Do you have plans for the summer?” I really hope Benton is open to what I have to offer.Top of theWorldwill catapult his stardom to the kind of fame that could take him far beyond hockey.
He turns on me. “Why do I get the feeling you’re about to pitch me something?” He catches the look on my face, and his playful expression falls. “Oh shit, not you, too.”
Guilt—instant guilt.
“Hear me out,” I try as the car turns onto Cooper’s street. “You can say no, and I’ll respect your decision and never bring it up again. I’m a producer on a new reality television show I think you’d be very interested in hearing more about.”
He immediately shakes his head. “Fuck no.”
I sigh. “Okay, that’s fine, no hard feelings. We’ll find another athlete who wants guaranteed millions and fame and extra years added on to his career.”
He laughs, clearly annoyed, and I hope I didn’t just lose his friendship. “Extra years on my career? Be real, Sybil. Like a fuckingtv showcould do that.”
We stop at the red light, and I give him an incredulous look. “Do we not live in the same century?”
He arches a skeptical eyebrow, but I’m being serious.
“You think teams don’t care about fame? They do. Athletes who bring in more money through merchandising and name recognition get better andlongercontracts. Why do you think so many athletes try to date popular actresses and pop-stars? The added attention is mutually beneficial to both parties involved.” I give him a pointed look. “Try to deny it, but what you do off the ice does matter.”
“You sound like my manager,” he deadpans.
“Your manager must be a smart woman.”
He rakes a palm through his thick brown hair. “She is… and she’d probably tell me to hear you out.”
“See? What do you have to lose? If it’s a no, that’s fine. We’ll find another athlete.”
He slumps back, a weary sigh escaping his lips. “Fine, give me the elevator pitch.”
I laugh. “Oh, no. We’re going to go meet some people tonight who are much better at pitching than I am.” Namely, Perry Hargrove, the pitch-master.
“We’rewhat?” Benton snaps. “What the hell is going on, Laurence?”
The streetlight switches to green, and we accelerate again. “Relax. It’s at a private residence. No cameras. Nobody there to post your private business online. And we don’t have to stay long.”
“Will there be food?” he asks, and I bite back a grin.
“Yes, as well as a couple of other people who are interested in the show. You can talk to our show creator and see what this is about. No pressure.”
“I don’t know,” he mumbles, and I feel bad for springing this on him.
