Double Score

I felt uneasy. There was nothing reassuring about Steve. At least with Charlie, there was some successful team history. She was tough as nails, but her methods worked.

“What is the plan you propose?” I asked, skeptical he could fix this with a marketing strategy.

“It’s a radical idea, but I’m counting on it to work.”

“Ok. What is it? I’m listening. If there is a way to fix the nightmare, then let's do it. I don't want any of the players to leave. We need them. The season starts in two weeks. We can’t have opening night with an empty bench.”

Steve looked at me, forming a thin line with his lips. I could tell he was used to living at a frantic pace. Everything he did was quick and fast. All his movements were erratic. Maybe that was the life of a PR director, I didn't know. He made me feel anything but calm. I wondered if working for the Warriors did this to him.

“I think there is a way to show the fans that the team loves the new ownership. The players are excited about the new changes. It’s a way that will bring ownership and the team together in an unbelievable way. It’s going to give us great press. Positive stories. Headlines that could last us the entire season.”

"What is it? I'd love to hear this fantastic idea of yours." At this point I would take any ideas. I didn't have a single one. I had no plan how to rebuild the team my grandfather had run into the ground with his greed. He had reaped all the rewards and benefits while he worked them into exhaustion and hatred.

I waited for Steve to give me the magical answer.

“Ms. McCade, you need to get engaged.”

I had been able to prevent it all morning, but the ground gave way as if there were a gaping hole under the desk. I staggered, grabbing the edge.

“What are you talking about? Engaged? I’m not even seeing anyone.”

“Yes. Engaged. I checked into your personal life before this meeting. You’re going to need to up your profile activity on social media by the way. You haven’t posted anything in months.”

I stared at him. “This has something to do with how many vacation pictures I post?”

Steve chuckled. “No, sorry—off track. You need to get engaged to one of the Warriors.”

I felt my heart beat in my chest, pounding wildly. My palms became sweaty. I didn't know if I had enough space in my ribcage to take a full breath. My chest was closing in on me.

“Are you crazy? That’s your plan? You want me to marry one of the football players? That’s not even possible. I can’t do that. It’s unprofessional. Unethical. No way.”

He presented another graph. I didn't bother to look at it. Nothing made sense right now. I just had to keep myself from falling through the floor, and sinking deeper into this universe of nonsense he had created.

“If you look at the numbers here,” he explained. “You'll see that fans react well to interpersonal relationships with the team. And I don’t think interpersonal relationships get any stronger than engagement. You are a young beautiful woman who has just inherited the team. A team that has sent out a clear message of hatred toward ownership. But if one of these guys will agree to be your fiancé, at least through the end of the season, then it will look as if he represents the entire team and that the team is united. They don't hate ownership, they love ownership. Love ownership so much that one of their own is going to marry her."

“This is the most insane thing I have ever heard.”

“Just listen, Vanessa. This one man will represent the entire team. You’ll be like their queen bee. And he is the figurehead who says to the world the whole team would marry you if they could.”

“There’s no way. I have only met a few of them today. And on top of that, I don't want to get married. My grandfather just died. It wouldn’t be appropriate.” I waved my hands in the air, I knew I was acting as erratic as Steve, but it felt like the world was spinning out of control. “I'm not getting married. It's not going to happen.”

“We can spin this several ways. Think about all the support you need in your time of grief. Falling for someone during that time would make sense to the fans.”

I shook my head. “I’m not getting married.”

“Listen, you don't have to actually marry anyone. You only have to be engaged for the season. We need the publicity. And there's nothing better for publicity than a love story,” he assured me.

“Your love story will change the entire perception of the team. You can turn everything around for the Warriors. It’s your job to protect this corporation. Isn't that what you want?”

My eyes flashed to his. “Of course that's what I want. I don't want the team to fall apart. But what you are suggesting is a lie. You want us to trick the fans and mislead them. I can't do that.”

Steve looked agitated. He pressed his palms into the front of my grandfather's desk. The desk that was now mine. I noticed how worn his fingernails were. He was the nervous type. The kind that chewed his nails to the quick when he didn't know what else to do. It was a gross habit. I was starting to dislike him more and more.

“Vanessa, I have come to you with the perfect solution. This will get the team on your side. This will get the press on your good side. I’d rather roll out a plan for positive press than try to deal with the fallout of a scandal.

“Think about it this way. Staying in the headlines will lead to the higher paying stations wanting a better schedule for their lineups. Imagine Sunday Night Football. Monday Night Football. They call that money. And money equals higher paid players. Do you see where I'm going with this? It's all connected. The more money you bring in, the more you pay the guys. The more negotiating power you have to find better coaches and trainers. It just keeps getting better, and everyone is happy.” He folded his arms across his chest, remaining still for the first time since I had met him.

There was something to his argument. As insane and ludicrous as it sounded, I saw where he was going. If the Warriors really were somewhere on this confusing list of spreadsheets and graphs labeled as the most unpopular team in America, I had to do something to get them back on top. I knew that much.