Page 17 of Playing for Possession
“We’re the faces of Fizzz. I don’t enjoy any of this PR stuff, but we could get through it together as friends. We can be... Fizzz buddies,” I said.
“Fizzz buddies?”
“That’s right. Fizzz buddies.”
She let out a soft chuckle. “Just because you keep saying those words doesn’t mean it’s a thing.”
“It’s definitely a thing.”
It wasn’t a thing. It was a gimmick. A way to fast-track to friends and make this easier on both of us. Mortimer would be expecting a good report from her when she came home. I’d never been an A-star student, but I couldn’t afford to mess up this assignment. Getting along with this woman was my shot at the World Cup.
“We’re a whole step up on the friendship ladder. We’re partners on the endorsement front line, bonded together by sugar and artificial additives. You have nothing to worry about with any of this. I’ll look out for you. We can have fun with this. I promise,” I said.
More importantly than any of this Fizzz buddies nonsense, we were teammates. This would be easier and better for the club if we got on.
A small smile lifted her lips, and for once it looked genuine. “OK. We can be friends.”
“Fizzz buddies,” I corrected. “We should probably work on a handshake or something... or a fist bump. Let’s make it official. A Fizzz bump?”
She chuckled again. “Please stop saying the word Fizzz. It’s making my brain hurt.”
“I’ll stop saying it if you stop leaving me hanging. Refusing a fist bump is poor etiquette. In some cultures it’s downright offensive.”
“What cultures?”
I waggled my fist impatiently. “Just do the Fizzz bump.”
She tapped her fist against mine and I noticed how small it looked compared to my hand. My pulse quickened at the contact. “There we go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Engine rumbling and faint beeps sounded. Now that we were friends, we’d better make some friendly conversation. I racked my brain, scrambling for something, but she beat me to it.
“I can’t believe we’re endorsing this stuff.” She shot me a shy smile. “When it turns out to have fatal side effects, people are going to come for us.”
“That’s when you’re on your own. Every official Fizzz representative for themselves.”
“I thought we were brothers-in-arms? Pioneers on the Fizzz frontier?”
“Nope. Not then. I’m going into witness protection.”
A laugh burst out of her. It was loud enough to attract the attention of the flight attendant, who gave us an amused look. Joanie turned her face to the window, peering at the endless line of perfect blue where the earth kissed the sky. I couldn’t help but steal a glance at her delicate profile. The mother must have been a looker. Mortimer Fox’s genes hadn’t even tried. I had a strange flickering in my chest. A sudden nervousness. Annoying. Butterflies were something women got, not grown men, and this woman was everything I hated about the privileged jerks at Calverdale.
Sudden pressure forced us back into our seats. Joanie gave a yelp of alarm.
I leaned closer. “Getting up in the air is the worst bit. Soon we’ll be cruising.”
Rattling filled the cabin. The plane gave a small lurch, and a cry left Joanie’s lips. Her hand flew out and grabbed mine, gripping tightly as if I was her only hope of stability. The air thickenedbetween us. I held perfectly still, my heart pounding at the sudden contact and the weight of her vulnerability.
“It’s OK. Just turbulence. It won’t be long.” I wanted to be reassuring but my voice sounded thick and unsteady.
“I’m sorry. I haven’t always been like this.” Her voice was a whisper.
The fear etched on her face made my heart contract. I hardly dared ask, but it felt important. “Like what?”
She frowned. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
The plane leveled out. Her gaze dropped to where her fingers trembled in mine. She snapped her hand away and turned her face to stare out of the small window. Mortimer’s words from the locker room niggled in my brain.
I’m hoping that getting involved with the PR side of things might rebuild her confidence.
