AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Tonight was the first playoff game, though, so everyone had to buck up. Jackson Athletics was sponsoring a hot dog eating contest between the first and second period, and I’d thought everything was handled for that. Until I saw the promo photo. After nearly pissing my pants, I made a beeline for the art department at the ripe hour of four p.m.
“Teri, is this a joke?” I asked, walking into the office of the director of art and media.
“Um…what?” she asked, not even looking up from her computer.
“Teri.” I put the mock-up I’d printed out down in front of her. “Is it a hot dog eating contest or soft porn night at the Mavericks game?”
She blinked, as if seeing the photo for the first time. It showed a young teenage girl staring at a hot dog, eyes wide and lips parted like she was on the verge of going down on it.
“I don’t…” Her voice trailed off. “Jesus fucking Christ. I never saw this. I was out the last two days—my kids are sick—so I told Manny to handle it. Fuck fuck fuck.”
“Can we just reshoot it?”
“The game starts in three hours! Where are we going to find a model? Shit, I could get fired for this. I have two kids in braces; I can’t get fired.”
“We’ll figure it out. Don’t you know anyone? What about one of the guys on the team?” I immediately thought of Nash, but he was a wreck right now, and he had enough pressure to play tonight. I couldn’t imagine asking him to do something like this.
“After what happened to Sawyer’s wife, I don’t think so.” She was rummaging through an old-school Rolodex.
“How long have you had that?” I asked curiously, since the only other person I knew who still had one was my old managing editor at the newspaper, who was in his sixties.
Teri smiled. “My husband gave it to me the day I got my first job out of college. It’s more sentimental than practical.”
I smiled back. “Well, hopefully, you’ll pull a rabbit out of that dinosaur.”
“I got nothin’,” Teri muttered. “I don’t really deal in models because we use very few. Most of our program covers are either players or the mascot, and the vendors usually provide their own.”
“Well, we better think of something because the doors open in just under two hours and a Twitter mob could make an entire comedy routine out of this photo.”
She squinted up at me, carefully looking me up and down.
“What?” I asked in alarm, looking down to see if there was a stain on my shirt or something.
“You were Miss Teen Missouri and you’ve got cheekbones to die for. This is right up your alley!”
“Me?” I squeaked. “No. My modeling days are long gone. No way.”
“We’re desperate and you qualify. Go touch up your makeup.”
“No, I don’t think—” I was cut off as Teri got up and nudged me toward the door.
“Desperate times, desperate measures and all that. Think of my two kids in braces and my youngest, whose teeth are going in seventeen different directions already. Go. I’ll round up one of the photographers and we’ll knock out a new promo still in ten minutes.”
Good grief.
I spent so much time avoiding the limelight and now I was being thrust back into it whether I wanted to or not. For hot dog porn, no less. Despite the situation, I chuckled. I was going to ask for a bonus for doing this.
I grabbed my purse, hoping I had enough makeup to make myself presentable and I’d just gotten to the ladies’ room when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. To my shock, there was a text from Rob.
ROB: Hey. I’m sorry it took me so long to respond. I didn’t mean to be a douche, but I just can’t meet you in person and I can’t tell you why. Believe me, it has nothing to do with you. There’s just some shit I have to handle first. Take care, Rob.
I stared at it for a little too long, a plethora of emotions washing over me. Sadness that he didn’t want to meet in person, frustration that he wouldn’t tell me why, and anger that I’d invested so much of myself in this strange relationship. Was he married? Otherwise involved with someone and now having regrets?
Ugh. Men sucked.
I couldn’t change him or his feelings, though, so I’d pull up my big-girl panties and move on.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the house when they did the video tribute to Annie just before the game started. Even some of the stodgy veteran sports reporters in the press corps seemed misty-eyed, and that was saying something. The crowd was respectful, but in all honesty, the tribute was more for those of us in the Mavericks organization than anything else, so seconds after it was over, the volume in the arena hit eleven. People were on their feet and from where I sat in the concourse, the hot dog eating contest was going to be a hoot.
