“They do, but I —”
“Carlos!” a gritted voice called and without turning to look, I could tell it was Renee by the way my body tensed at the sound of her.
“Oh hey, Ms. Hall,” Carlos said, turning to Renee with a bright smile. I was really tempted to book it while she was distracted yelling at Carlos. But I wasn’t going to be the one to back down. So I turned to face her, mirroring Carlos’s smile.
“Hi, Renee,” I said, trying to inject my voice with the same sticky sweetness she uses.
“Kodi. Surprised you’ve got a shirt on,” she huffed.
“What?” Carlos stammered, his head snapping to me, eyes wide.
“It’s an inside joke. We went to college together,” I explained through gritted teeth.
“Oh, seriously? That’s so cool! Small world, huh?” He laughed, completely unaware that Renee and I were staring daggers at each other.
“Yup,” I said, popping the P. “Small world.”
“Did you know each other well? Or was it a big campus?”
“Carlos,” Renee snapped.
“Yes, ma’am.” He bolted straight up.
“Go stretch. I want you ready to play when we get ten goals ahead.”
“You got Coach to approve that?” Carlos beamed.
“Of course I did.” Renee waved Carlos’s amazement away. “Just make sure you make good use of this opportunity.”
“Will do!” Carlos pumped his fist before jogging off to the locker rooms.
“I saw you made Kean an Instagram,” Renee said with a sharp click of her tongue.
“Mhmm. And did you see the first post this morning?” I’d edited the video of Kean’s reaction to his fan account and sent it to him last night for approval. There were some things I felt comfortable posting without getting his okay; clips from the game, professional photos included in his profile, stuff like that. But this clip was a little more intimate — it showed a soft side to him that he didn’t show often.
That sort of vulnerability meant, to a certain extent, he trusted me. And like hell was I gonna blow that progress by posting something he didn’t want anyone else to see. Even though Iknew in my bones this post would go viral. It had everything we needed to hit it big, that vulnerability, the connection to a fan, and first-post excitement.
And once Kean gave me the thumbs-up — literally, that’s how he replied to my request — I was proven right.
The post was nearing one million views when I last checked, with a few hundred comments and thousands of shares. Some of that was from Kean’s teammates, most of them commenting that they didn’t know Kean had a soft side.
It was the perfect first post, gained him over 100,000 followers, and was featured on Stadium Statements, a soccer media outlet.
But for all the good a viral video could do, it’d be worthless if I let this moment die. So Ihadto find more ways to push Kean, to make him marketable, get his jersey sales up, or something to prove I was good at this and get the job Ireallywanted.
“It was fine,” Renee scoffed. “A lucky break. You’ll lose all those followers just as quickly as you got them.”
“I’m fully aware of how to take advantage of a viral moment,” I said through gritted teeth.
She hummed, looking farther down the hallway. Then all of a sudden her eyes brightened and a sneer spread across her face. “Speaking of viral.”
She hopped next to me in full sorority girl mode, grabbing onto my arm and spinning me around.
“Hi, Mr. Marshall!” she said with so much cheer that my stomach dropped. God, this fucking bitch, she knew exactly what she was doing.
But the twist of anxiety this bitch incited was nothing compared to the sight of seeing Kiran Marshall again and up close. Because hot damn, this man wasfine. Retirement, forced though it may have been, was treating him well. He still had theslim athletic build, but there was a little more heft to him now than when he played.
“Have you met Kean’s new PA? Kodi Davey,” Renee said, bursting my ogling bubble.
