Page 3 of Coach Sully

His eyes lock onto my brown skin and grow wide. “What? No. I didn’t mean—I just meant because you’re more Gen-Z, you know?”

When he notices my smirk, the realization I’m kidding sets in and his broad shoulders relax as he shakes his head. “Do you know how Hennessy became popular in Black culture?” he asks.Is he serious right now?

I actually do know why, but I want to see if he does. “Because Tupac rhymed Hennessy with enemies and we ain’t been the same since?” I snark.

He laughs. “Hennessy was one of the first warehouses to employ Black workers and pay them equal wages. They also used Black models in advertisements and gave leadership positions to people of color.”

Guess he does know. Well done, Norway. “Some people argue that Hennessy exploited Black communities for profit, but I’m still impressed you know your history.” A slow smile creeps across my face as we call this bizarre truce. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fuck with you like that… You just looked like someone who’s…” My eyes rove up and down his body.

“An easy target?” He finishes with a raised eyebrow.

I raise my eyebrows and grin. “I was going to sayold, but…”

He gives me the full mega-watt Sully smile. His acute gaze flickers with mischief. Damn, he’s attractive, and I stare back with equal intensity. Thankfully, we’re interrupted by a bubbly server who asks for his drink order.

His eyes continue to drink me in for a beat before he peers at the petite server.

“What’s youroldestwhiskey?” he says.

Grinning around my straw, I take a sip of my Tom Collins.

“Oh. Um… I-I don’t know. I’m sorry. Let me go check—”

“Nah, that’s okay.” He holds the drink menu between us and scans it, then peeks over the top of the black book to glance at me. “Age doesn’t matter, anyway.” He winks at me, then returns his attention to the server. “Actually, I’ll have whatever stout you have on tap.”

“We have Black Beauty on nitro?” she suggests.

I laugh, and the corners of his lips tip up, and he slides his hands together.Those hands.

“Yeah. I really want that,” he says, looking at me.

Is he flirting? Wait, am I blushing?Shit. This is unprofessional. I avert my gaze. The server strides away to fetch his drink. He crosses his arms, sits back, and grins.

I’m here with one goal in mind: get him to do the show.

“Speaking of segue…” I say, clearing my throat and severing the heady connection forming between us. “Did Micky tell you why I wanted to meet?”

His smile falters now that I’ve killed our playful banter. He sighs and uncrosses his arms. “Something about a dating show.”

“It’s different from most other shows. It’s not likeThe Bachelor, where people are simply signing up and hoping to ‘win’ you. We do an in-depth analysis of what you’re looking for, we look at your lifestyle and values and use artificial intelligence to find the most fitting matches out of thousands of applicants also searching for love. They don’t know your identity prior to applying. We will narrow it down to ten women. As long as you’re honest in your answers, you’ll leave the show in love.”

He sighs. “And then what?” He’s already skeptical. I can’t totally blame him, with his level of popularity.

“We film your dates with the different women, evaluate your progress, and let America fall in love with you and one of the ten matches.” The server returns with his drink, and he takes a big swig of the obsidian beer topped with a creamy head.Creamy head?Goddamn, I can’t seem to pull my mind out of the gutter tonight.

“I’m burned out from dating. I’m tired of having the same conversations over and over. This sounds like all of that but doing it on camera. Respectfully, I’d rather rawdog a garbage disposal.”

Well, there’s a visual. “Except you’ll already have chemistry with these people. We’ve tested the system, it’s solid. By the time it’s been thinned down to ten women, the challenge is picking only one, because you’ll likely want all of them. I can guarantee you’ll depart satisfied.”

“If this works so well, how come you’re not starting your own online dating app or something? Monetizing the technology?” He nods to me. “Tell me whatyouget out of it, then I’ll consider.”

“What I get out of it doesn’t matter. This is about you finding love. You said you’re burned out from dating, so you’ve obviously been trying to meet people, and since you’re still single—”

“Kendra.” The way he says my name in that deep voice gives me chills and disarms me. “What’syourreason?”

I swallow, glancing down at my hands before sighing and coming clean. “I’m passionate about cinematography. It’s my greatest love. I’m the youngest Black woman to get a shot at producing her own show. Sure, I could sell the technology and make money, but let’s be honest, dating companies are already working the AI angle, it won’t be long before I’ll be competing with them, anyway. This is my ticket to do what I love. It gets me closer to production and network executives.” The sparkle in his eye tells me he’s satisfied with my answer. “This is dating on the next level; every date is a good date. Dating in the wild sucks. It’s a lot of work. But I promise, the hardest part of this show will be having to choose which one istheone.”

He drags a hand down his face. “I’m not a fan of being in the spotlight. Especially a dating show. This sounds messy and complicated. People’s feelings will get hurt publicly. Also, I hate reality television… No offense.”

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