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“That I caused?” I poke him in the chest. “You’re the one who decided to go all caveman over Bailey—”
“Don’t talk to me about Bailey,” he says, his voice going low.
My stomach gets that weird weightless sensation when I realize Hicks is close enough I can feel his breath on my face, the heat coming off his body. I think he picks up on it at the same time and for one weird moment his gaze drops inexplicably to my mouth.
Like it did at the gala. I thought I must have imagined it.
It takes me a beat too long to realize the elevator is slowing to a stop. The chime announcing our arrival makes me jerk back a step.
“You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do,” I say, keeping my voice down as I step out into a small, mercifully empty foyer.
A firm grip on my arm stops me before I can walk too far. I pull away but Hicks doesn’t let go until I turn around.
“What?”
“What is your problem?” he asks. “You have been nothing but antagonistic toward me from the day we met.”
“My problem is that I’m late for a meeting that wouldn’t even be happening if it weren’t for you causing a scene in a room full of reporters.” That’s not the only problem, but it’s as true as any of the others. Hick’s mouth tightens.
“As I recall I wasn’t the only person involved,” he says, his voice hard.
Whatever brilliant, scathing reply I’m about to make is lost when Bob Greeley, an executive producer with Sizzle and the man in charge of the cooking competition, comes around the corner.
“Ah, there you both are!” he says. Greeley has the relentless, overly jovial manner of a lifelong salesman. Ten bucks says that’s where he started before getting promoted to VP of Whatever He Does.
Greeley waves us down the hall. “Come on. Now that you’re here we can get started.”
Ignoring Drew Hicks with every last cell in my body, I follow Greeley down the long hall to the conference room. It’s another expanse of gleaming professionalism—the long mahogany table surrounded by over a dozen empty chairs. There are a handful of other people already seated, tapping away at laptops, nodding absently as we take our seats. I make a point of putting an extra seat between Hicks and me. His quiet snort tells me the move isn’t lost on him.
“Let’s get started,” says Greeley. More nodding from the… assistants? Interns? I recognize at least one other producer, Kenna Burch, plus Hicks’s boss, Ty Wilkes, but that’s it. “Ty?”
“Right,” says Wilkes, laying a hand on the conference table. “We’ll keep this brief. As you all know, our first local cooking competition kicks off in three days. Cooper here,” he says, pointing to me, “is our host.”
“Glad to have you on board, Cooper,” says Greeley.
“Thank you.”
“It won’t be news to anybody that part of the reason you were chosen as host is because you have a dedicated online following,” says Ty.
More nodding from the room at large. I’ve built a pretty extensive audience the last several years, first with blogging, then with various social media platforms. Things really took off after I started making videos. I’m sure my experience is why Sizzle offered me the hosting gig—well, that, plus getting access to my audience.
“Which brings me to why we’re here,” says Ty. “The traditional media outlets are desperate for anything that’ll get them attention. Anything that might go viral gets a mention, and considering your name already draws a good amount of traffic online—” Ty lets the thought hang.
“Let’s just say we’d like to be careful about the type of attention you draw,” says Greeley.
“Which means no more scenes like the one at the gala the other night,” says Kenna.
“I thought there was ‘no such thing as bad publicity,’” I say, defensive despite my best effort to sound innocent.
“Yes, well,” says Greeley, blustering. “Given the current political climate, the board feels it necessary to maintain a certain level of decorum. Keeping things family friendly, you know.”
I can just imagine. Sizzle is owned by a middle-grade media company with delusions of playing in the big leagues, and Sizzle’s the most popular channel in their network. If they’re playing the political angle, this meeting makes total sense.
Except it sounds like I’m not going to get my knuckles smacked for bad behavior. So why are we here?
“I appreciate being kept in the loop,” says Hicks, radiating wholesome golden boy from every pore. Give me a fucking break. “What do you need from me?”
Ty Wilkes turns to Hicks with a pointed look. “You’re here to help,” says Wilkes. “I understand Cooper had some… challenges during your class this summer.”
