I could feel the pink on my cheeks. "Yes. He stopped by to discuss a few things.”
I saw the smile on her lips. It was either wishful thinking, or she knew things about him. I couldn’t tell which.
“Sorry I wasn’t here to show him in.”
I spoke through a mouthful of chicken salad. “It’s fine. He let himself in.”
“Watch out for that one.” She giggled. “He’s a sweet talker.”
“Oh?” I wanted her to tell me every piece of dirt she knew about the wide receiver.
She nodded. “He’ll say whatever he has to, to get a girl he wants. Just be careful. He’s only in it for the fun.”
I blinked. “But you’re ok with that? Right?”
“Oh yeah. I love fun. He’s great for that, but he’s not exactly boyfriend material.”
I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation. It was completely inappropriate as her boss.
“I don’t think that will be an issue. I’m not having personal relationships with team members,” I stated it as if that could erase the way I reacted to Dylan and Isaac.
She shrugged. “That’s your business. But, you only have 15 minutes until Steve Drucker arrives. He's the PR director."
I shoved chicken salad in my mouth, wishing it was already the end of the day. I didn't know if I could take another round of hearing how awful the Warriors were and how unfairly everyone had been treated.
“Where’s Charlie? I thought she was my grandfather’s go-to.” She’s had cleaned up more than one mess for this team. No one could believe how she had turned Luke Canton’s career around. She was a miracle worker. I needed one of those right now.
“Charlie Maine is a freelancer. Want me to call her and see if we can get her in the office this week?”
“No, it’s all right. I’ll meet with Steve first and go from there.”
“You sure?”
I nodded. “Let me know when he’s here,” I replied. It wasn’t Candy’s fault I was having a shitty day.
“I sure will.” She smiled. "And if you have any more meetings with half naked members of the team you can let me know." She winked as she left the room.
I barely had time to collect my thoughts before the PR meeting.
The door opened and in walked a short man with a receding hairline and wearing a suit that looked as if he had pulled it from his dad's closet. I pressed the napkin to my lips to stifle a giggle.
“Ms. McCade, I'm Steve Drucker, the Warriors PR Director.” He shoved his hand across the desk. “Sorry about your grandfather. He’ll be missed around here.”
I took his hand. He had the kind of handshake that crushed my fingers until they were numb. I tried not to grimace.
“Thank you. I’ve heard a lot about my grandfather today. Nice to meet you, Steve. I'm anxious to hear your thoughts on the direction of the franchise. I should go ahead and warn you, I'm only gathering information today." It seemed like a good disclaimer to have at this point. “I’ve had a lot thrown at me, and its only lunch.” I tried a softer approach with him, just clinging to the idea that maybe this guy could be my ally in the company.
He shook his head. “We have to do more than that.” He was frantic. His face was red, and his forehead was dotted with perspiration. "We have to act immediately. There’s really no time."
"What are you talking about?" I asked. I wasn't in the mood to make any kind of decisions. It felt as if every time I took a breath, more of the floor moved out from under me. I couldn’t catch my footing.
"Our numbers are in the nightmare range," he explained. "I've never seen them this low." He shoved a piece of paper in front of me scattered with charts and graphs. I tried to read the fine print at the bottom of each bar graph.
I looked at him. "What does this mean? Why don't you explain it to me?"
"Ms. McCade, the Warriors are the least popular team in the league. We need to act fast and do something that brings them back into the fans’ hearts."
"I don't understand." I shook my head. It didn't make sense. The Warriors meant Texas football. People loved Texas football. They grew up either a Warriors or Wranglers fan. There was no way our numbers could be this terrible. He had to be exaggerating.