Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 88895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Me sassily ripping off another piece from the bone precedes the man beside me casually kicking a thumb towards the flat screen. “I meant the movie.”
Shame unforgivingly seeps into my complexion forcing me to hide with more food.
Dad nonchalantly dips a fry in blue cheese and shrugs. “But we can talk about the other shit instead.”
“We don’t have to.”
“But we can.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“Maybe we should.”
Dad’s counter successfully sends my stare to his.
“Mi pequeña rebelde…” the end of the fry gets abandoned inside the container near the wings, “I know that we typically treat you more like our little mijo than mija but that doesn’t mean you can’t express your feelings. It doesn’t mean we can’t talk about non-sports shit.”
Unhappy grumbles are attached to reaching for another wing.
“Were you actually fired?”
“Yes.”
“Like actually, actually fired?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Did she say those words?”
“She didn’t exactly say any words to me.” I bury my sadness in another bite. “Just about me.”
“Which were?”
“I should go. I should get in my car. I should not come to the office for an undisclosed amount of time.” Faster chewing is engaged. “All the normally equals fired bullshit.” Swallowing swiftly occurs so I can coherently proclaim, “Sorry if that little scene tanked the store’s launch stats. It wasn’t my intention. You know I would never-”
“Plan a publicity stunt like that?” He angles himself against the cushions as Bear protectively rests his head in my lap. “No. That’s your sister’s department.”
It’s impossible not to glare.
“And I’ve never been more convinced than I am now that she had had this planned for quite some time.”
My scowl deepens.
“Publicity stunts tend to gather more media attention – especially in this day and age – more attention means more customers, more customers means more sales, more sales means higher stats, which is exactly what we had thanks to your Sports Opera.”
Gagging and throwing the bone are done simultaneously. “You have got to be shitting me.”
He casually shakes his head on a small grin. “One of the highest opening weeks in the past decade.”
Fuck, I hate her.
I hate her so much.
How is it she managed to turn my pain into profit?!
What kinda fucked up sorcery is that shit?!
“She prevails and I get fired,” I sarcastically sneer. “Well…isn’t that just kick you in the taint during your MVP acceptance speech fantastic?”
“You don’t know you got fired.”
“Dad.”
“But if you did-”
“I totally did!”
“Then you will be pleased to know at dinner last night with Thunder-”
“Your old college frat bro?”
“That would be the one.” His hands fold politely in his lap. “You came up.”
“Not feelin’ like this is a stick tap moment.”
“Remember how he works for STN in their featured programs department?”
“Yeah.”
“They want you for a slot.”
Nearly choking on my chicken can’t be helped. “Wh-” One cough becomes two more. “What?” Bear nudges my leg in question prompting me to reassure, “I’m fine. Promise.”
He angles his head to one side.
“Swear that Grandpaw isn’t trying to kill me.”
My dog huffs and slowly lowers his head back to my lap.
“But is he fucking with me right now?” my head rolls back to him. “Because that’s the last shit I need.”
“Nope.” Dad maintains a serious expression. “He’s admired your work for quite some time, and your bitch fit-”
“Goditwassuchabitchfit.”
“-actually landed quite well with out of league viewers. That clip has garnered over a million views – and counting-”
“Ohmygod,” gets muffled behind more meat.
“Plus, it sent an unexpected surge of traffic to the leagues website, social media pages, and the Dragons sales page.”
“No…”
“People like drama.”
“I don’t like drama!”
“Consumers like drama,” Dad corrects in a snarky tone and reaches for the remainder of his fry. “Helps them connect to what they’re consuming better. According to Thunder, STN believes you could play a key role in transitioning part time fans to full time ones by exposing the harsh reality of the sport by mixing the mini docu shit you did with Frosky with the raw outbursts you had at LMC. Like a sports reality T.V. thing.” He chunks in the tiny bit. “Someone from his office should be calling Monday to set up an interview.”
Disbelief drops onto my shoulders buckling me slightly forward.
Seriously?
Is my network dream about to come true?!
“Speaking of calling,” he waits until he has my full attention again, “has the not not boyfriend?”
I guiltily nod.
“Texted?”
Repeating the action is instant.
“Come by?”
“Only the night of. He’s been on the roadskie ever since.”
“And you didn’t answer?”
“I deadbolted the door.”
You know in spite of Bear’s unhappy barking.
“And you haven’t answered the others either?”
“Why the fuck would I answer?” seeps free in a displeased murmur. “What the fuck am I supposed to say?”
“What do you wanna say?”
My mouth immediately flies open to respond yet nothing escapes.
Because the truth is I don’t know what I want to say any more than what I should say?
Sorry, I got you traded?
Sorry, I got myself fired?