Page 14 of The Tip-Off
I glance at Sara who’s holding in a laugh.
“It is. Thank you.”
“Was everything okay? Did Gabby take good care of you?”
I glance behind him at the wait station where Gabby briefly meets my gaze and then rolls her eyes.
“Yes, sir.”
“Alright.” He knocks on the table. “If you need anything, you let me know.”
I shake my head as he retreats.
“Better get used to the attention,” Sara says and then pulls out her phone. “Alright, let’s talk schedule.” She gives me the rundown for the next few weeks.
Adrenaline courses through my veins as she gives me dates for interviews with teams that are likely to be picking in the top five. It’s finally here, only weeks away, and I’m so ready.
“Alright, I’m sorry to eat and run, but I’ve gotta drive to Phoenix for another meeting. Let me know if you need anything.” She scoots out of the booth and I follow suit. “Don’t forget what I said about social media. If you haven’t created an account by tomorrow, I’ll assume you want me to hire someone to do it for you.”
“Thank you for driving down,” I say. “Have a safe trip back.”
I sit back down in the booth, pop a cucumber into my mouth, and withdraw my phone from my pocket. As promised, Colleen sent over a dozen images and post suggestions. At the very bottom in all caps, she’s written:P.S. DON’T FORGET TO ADD AT LEAST FIVE HASHTAGS TO EACH POST. P.S.S. HAVE FUN!
Fuck my life. Looks like my days of avoiding social media are officially over.
6
Gabby
“Hey,”I say tentatively as I stand at the edge of Zeke’s table. He’s been sitting here by himself staring at his phone for over twenty minutes.
He looks up and the scowl on his face falls away. “Hey, Gabby.”
“Did your phone do something to hurt your feelings or is that just your standard glare?”
Setting it down on the table, Zeke lets out a rush of air before answering. “I don’t understand Instagram and hashtags - people are still using those? I thought it died off when people started using it in everyday speech.” He makes the symbol with his hands. “Hashtag, I don’t get it.”
I resist the urge to laugh. Barely. He looks so defeated. The best college basketball player in the whole country is frustrated over an app I mastered at thirteen. It’s a nice boost to my fragile ego.
“I’m closing out, so Savannah is going to take over your table.” I take a step away only to find my boss, Brady, scrutinizing my every move. Everyone knows Zeke is his favorite customer, he makes no effort to hide his giant man crush. Brady cranes his neck to get a better view of the situation and I let out a sigh and turn around.
“Would you like some help?”
My offer seems to take him by surprise, and he looks me over slowly. His gaze holds a second longer before his eyes flit away. “It’s alright. I’ll ask one of the guys later.”
Maybe it’s the fact he wants me to leave, or the fact my boss will appreciate me more if he sees me buddying up to Zeke, I can’t say for sure, but instead of leaving him alone, I take a seat across from him, pick up his phone and hold it out. “Hashtag procrastination.”
“I don’t even have any followers yet, so it’s fine. It can wait.”
I pull my phone from my apron pocket. “What’s your username?”
“Just my name, all one word,” he answers.
“There.” I set my phone down after following his new account. “Now, your fans demand more.”
He smiles a bit as he takes his phone and opens the app. I feel my phone vibrate next to me and know he’s followed me back. Is it pathetic to be excited that I’m the first person the great Zeke Sweets followed on Instagram? Maybe I’ll get a byline in his Wikipedia page someday.
“Do you have a photo picked out for your profile and first post?”
