Page 73 of Dump Tackle My Heart
“Sure. Happy to.”
The camera starts rolling.
At first, it’s harmless.
A couple of questions about logistics and brand engagement.
Then—her features sharpen in a way that reminds me of a shark. Or a head cheerleader from a high school mean-girl clique.
“So,” Ellie says, flipping her bleached curls over one shoulder, “tell us, Daniela, how does a girl like you land a bad boy like Hudson ‘Tank’ Jackson?”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
She smirks. “Our viewers are dying to know how someone like you gets a guy like that to notice her, and so am I, for that matter,” she says, gesturing to my body and winking like we’re pals and she’s joking with me.
But honestly? I don’t know this woman. And even if I did, I’m positive I still wouldn’t like her.
“Come on, don’t be coy. You’re clearly smart, don’t get me wrong. But it’s not like professional athletes, even rugby players, are known for falling head over heels for PR assistants—unless, of course, they’re conveniently trapped in a snowstorm with them. Right, folks?”
Ellie laughs—sharp, forced, nasty.
Finley makes a small, horrified sound beside me.
I open my mouth to say something—I’m not sure what—but Ellie barrels on.
“I mean, it’s cute. Really. A little cliché, but who doesn’t love a good fantasy?”
“I’m sorry? I think we’re gonna have to stop now?—”
I try to walk away, but she grabs my arm and continues like it’s nothing.
“You know exactly what I mean. And honestly, don’t you think it’s a lot to ask of the team just for a little publicity? I wonder if there isn’t anything Mitchell Knight and hisRoversaren’t willing to do to make the news?”
I pull my arm out of her grip.
“Miss Vance, you clearly have the wrong idea,” I say.
“Oh, please, I mean really? The bad boy and the chubby nerd girl—it’s like a Netflix miniseries! But I’d never blame a girl for getting while the getting’s good, if you know what I mean. So, how long are you two going to fake going out to milk this whole publicity thing?”
My chest squeezes.
I feel frozen.
I mean, did she just sayallthaton TV? Is this going to be on the air?
Where anyone—my parents could see it?
Oh my God.
I’m stunned. Humiliated.
“I’m sorry, that’s just not—” I whisper.
Shit. What will Tank think?
“Come on, Daniela. Surely, you can’t really believe he’s in love with you, right? Now, tell us what Tank likes in bed, be candid,” Ellie winks at the camera. “I mean, hey, I don’t blame you for agreeing to go through with it. If I were snowed in with Tank Jackson, I’d take advantage too. Who knows, maybe next time I’ll get lucky.”
I don’t even have the opportunity to respond because the next thing I hear—the very next sound?
