Page 18 of Zero Pucks Given
Ugh!
I slept like shit, which put me in a bad mood the next day. I spent the morning editing TikTok videos that I needed to publish this week, and then went to work that afternoon. The Spurs were playing at the arena today, so at least I wasn’t going to be freezing my ass off.
Small victories.
“I’m not carrying that stupid backpack again,” I argued with my boss. “Carter’s back isn’t injured. He’s just saying that to get out of working in the stands.”
“That’s not true!” Carter said, putting a hand on his lower back. “It hurts so bad I can barely walk.”
“Really? Because I saw you in the parking lot. You sprinted to the door because you were running late.” I turned back to my boss. “He’s faking it,andI have seniority. I’m not carrying that backpack today.”
My boss pursed his lips, then told Carter, “If you want to get out of backpack duty, bring a doctor’s note.”
Carter groaned, then shouldered the beer case and left the concession stand.
“You’re feisty today,” Sharon whispered to me as we got back to work.
“I’m still riled up from last night’s date.”
“You should let it go,” she said. “It sucked, but it’s over. No point in dwelling on it, right?”
“I’m actually enjoying dwelling on it. Grayson was such anasshole. I wish everyone saw what I saw.”
A security guard approached the stand and nodded at me. “Josie Harper? Come with me, please.”
I felt myself tense. “Am I in trouble?”
“I’ve been told to escort you to Bob Trent’s office. That’s all Iknow.”
I turned to my boss. “I’ll be back. Unless they’re firing me.”
“They aren’t firing you! They’re probably giving you your check for the date. When you come back, you’ll be ten grand richer!”
“Hope you’re right,” I muttered as I followed the security guard. But I had a bad feeling about this.
I was escorted to the same luxury suite from the hockey game the other night. The arena had been transformed from an ice rink to a basketball court overnight, and the sound of squeaking tennis shoes and cheering fans drifted through the open windows into the suite.
Bob was waiting with a smile on his face. “Ms. Harper. Great to see you again. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the couch next to him.
“I’m on the clock right now, so I’ll stand while we get this over with,” I replied.
“Very well.” Bob’s lips pressed together. “I heard there were fireworks last night, and not the good kind.”
“That’s one way to put it. Grayson was a massive asshole to me the entire time.”
Bob chuckled. “I sympathize with you there. Dealing with Grayson Steele is like arguing with an angsty teenager. He wants to do the opposite of whatever we suggest.”
I was surprised to hear this guyagreewith my assessment of Grayson. I nodded and said, “So, can I get my check now?”
“Here’s the thing,” he said with a wry smile.
I groaned internally.Here we go.
“The two of you did not fulfill the requirements laid out,” Bob explained. “The contract you signed stipulated a two hour date, with photographs before, during, and after. You left the restaurant after forty-five minutes. We didn’t get any photos at the end of the evening.”
“Great,” I muttered. “So you’re using a loophole to avoid paying me.”
“Ms. Harper, I assure you that wewantto pay you. We have an eight-figure marketing budget. All we want is for you to hold up your end of the bargain.”
