Page 51 of Offensive Plays

Libby, I need your help with something. Call me.

That's interesting. Rina and I are friends, sure. Maybe more like acquaintances. But for her to reach out, it must be something important.

I quickly dial her.

"Oh, thank God," she sighs out.

"Rina? Are you okay?"

"Listen, Libby. I hate to have to ask you for this but I'm desperate here. The boys are in the middle of the playoffs and I'm getting product placement offers and ad execs reaching out like crazy. I’m still looking for a marketing director. You know this world. Would you...I don't know, be willing to help me out for a bit? I'm in over my head here."

She never talks that fast. Rina is slow and calculative. Always in control, but today, her voice sounds stressed and needy.

"I mean, yeah. But what do you need help with?"

"I need someone to manage social media. Think of it like a consulting gig. Just until we're through with the post-season, I can find a full-time person, and everyone can finally take a vacation."

From the sound of her voice, she's in desperate need of one.

"And that would entail?"

"Making sure the players are fulfilling their deals with the companies that sponsor them by actually posting to their social accounts. Getting everyone on board to get the word out about our charity events and work in the city. Making their personalities shine. They're hockey players first and foremost, so I get that this isn't their forte. But it's necessary at this point for our franchise."

It's definitely in my wheelhouse. As a model, I practically live on social media—not so much these days. But how does that old saying go? "Those who can't do..."

"I'll help you, Rina. Just tell me what you need me to do first."

She breathes deeply. "You have no idea how much this means. Ok, well first things first. Our boys have their date-a-player dates that need to be shot and posted. You can start with yours and Fergie's to get a good feel of what to capture."

I nearly drop the phone. "Me and Fergie. Yeah... ok."

"Something wrong?"

"Nope. I'll... yeah I'll get right on that."

"You're my hero, Libby."

I'm something, that's for sure. A people pleaser. A pushover, even. But a hero? I'm a far cry from that.

"We can talk more tomorrow,” she says before we disconnect.

Well, looks like I have something to do after all. And that something is dating Michael Ferguson.

Chapter 13

Michael

The girl of my forbidden desires is currently walking toward me.

She's wearing tight leggings and a light windbreaker looking like she just time-warped from the 90s. Her hair floats behind her as she walks up to me and pauses just a few steps in front of me.

"You ready?"

She eyes the Space City arena before saying, "Lead the way, Fergie."

She knows exactly what to say to get under my skin. Calling me by Fergie and not Michael is one of those ways.

"You know," I say, as I open the door for her. "You were way nicer to me when I was making you come with my tongue."