Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
“Good morning,” Deb says, opening the meeting. “This is Carson Hanover. He works in crisis PR.”
“Morning,” Carson says.
I don’t let on how aggravated I am. This is hardly a crisis. I swear, Deb’s actually enjoying it.
“Where are we this morning?” McClain asks.
“I checked the socials earlier and people are commenting on older posts of Lucien,” Deb says. “Some people say he went too far.”
“It’s definitely not the first time someone’s been injured in a fight,” McClain says.
“No, but there’s a contingent of fans who follow every game we play against Vancouver because they know about the personal history between Beaumont and Macintire.”
“And?” McClain says, unconcerned.
Carson Hanover steps in. “Sometimes the best response is to say as little as possible.”
He continues talking, but my attention turns to Jules. She’s across from me at the table, so it’s easy for me to look at her without anyone noticing. She stares at her nails, the wall, the phone on the table—giving everything in this room her attention except me.
I know it’s for the best. I’m tired, worried about Audra, furious at Kyle. I’m not in my best frame of mind. But I think that’s why I’m so drawn to her in this moment. She has a way of making the rest of the world go away, and I want that. Badly.
Deb’s voice pulls me from my daydream. “I don’t know if he’s been up all night playing private eye, but his posts have a lot of detail. He knows, based on Audra’s post before the game last night, that she’s not in Vancouver. He’s speculating about the marriage and what Lucien might know.”
“What the fuck?” I drop my brows, my anger leveling up. “Who is this guy?”
Deb’s lips part. “I don’t know ... a guy who spends too much time online?”
“His name’s Craig Melvin,” Jules says. “He’s a YouTuber and a Crush superfan who follows our socials very, very closely. He comments on every post and follows everything. Our flight times, where he thinks we might be staying, who the players might be dating.”
“Jesus,” I mutter. “Is he mentally well?”
“I think so. He’s just a huge fan. He makes videos every day, and he’s always dressed in a Crush jersey and hat. He likes feeling like he has an inside scoop, even if it’s not much. He has a following.”
“This is all good to know,” Hanover says, writing on a notepad. “Can you send Deb some links so we can get a feel for him?”
“Sure.” She looks like she’s about to say something else, but she doesn’t.
“What else?” I ask.
She meets my gaze, my chest tightening. “There’s often a heightened interest in the lives of celebrities and pro athletes. People want to know them. I think the more we feed that, the more speculation it will create.”
“What if not saying anything will just make people like him dig harder?”
“I recommend someone from PR reach out to him today. Invite him to tour the locker rooms and give him some merch and great seats to the next game.”
“That’ll just encourage him,” Deb says.
“It’ll build loyalty,” Jules says. “And it’ll keep him busy. I’d give him an all-day tour and ask him to pose for a million photos. Show him every supply closet and concession area.”
“It’s a great idea,” Hanover says. “By the end of the day, our short statement will be out. That’s all we’re going to say. Coach, I’d even tell your players and staff to lean on the statement. Only repeat what’s in it or tell reporters to refer to it.”
“It’s only going to say we wish Macintire well in his recovery, right?”
He nods. “Absolutely. Nothing about being sorry, or our suspended player.”
“I agree. Is that it?”
“That’s it,” McClain says. “Get some rest. It’s a game day.”
“Should we meet again this afternoon?” Deb asks.
“No.” I’m already standing up to leave. “We have work to do for the game.”
Jules flicks her gaze to me, then tucks her long hair behind her ear and looks at the faces on the computer. “Deb, I’m here for anything you need. Unless you want me to come back. I won’t be filming content today.”
I answer before Deb can. “Stay. It’s good to have someone from PR with us.”
That’s just a bullshit excuse, but Deb nods her agreement. The meeting ends and Caroline, Shawn, Robbie, and Jules head for the door.
“Jules, can you stay a minute?” I say.
“Sure.”
Caroline turns to look at me from the doorway and says, “I’ll be upstairs.”
She’s catching a flight home in a few hours, and she didn’t have room in her bag for the Nanaimo bars she always brings home for her wife when she travels to Vancouver with the team. I’m swapping carry-on bags with her so she can take them.
Once Caroline leaves the room, Jules just looks at me, her lips set into a no-nonsense line.