Page 2 of Coach Sully

“Do I get my minute or not?”

My head falls back, and I stare at the ceiling and shut my mouth, giving her a chance to plead her case. After a beat, she continues. “It’s not a date. Well, the dinner with Kendra isn’t, at least. She’s producing a new dating show. But hear me out, it uses AI to find your perfect match. It’s based on real-life compatibility instead of just interests and shit. They had a guy, but he backed out last minute. I told her you would sit down with her. You don’t have to agree to anything! All I’m asking is for you to get a free drink and listen to her pitch. If you still aren’t interested by the end of the meeting, just say no. It’s not a big deal. But please, she needs this. It’s her show, and it’s going toget scrapped if they can’t get a solid replacement. She’s worked really hard for this and deserves to see it through.”

I blow out an exasperated breath. “Micky, this is the first and last time you ever agree to anything on my behalf without running it by me.”

“I promise! Never again!” Her voice rises as the excitement shows through. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

“I’ll meet with her,” I grumble. “But that’s it.”

“I knew I could count on you! You’re the best. Okay, she’s expecting you tomorrow night at Urban Elixir. Seven o’ clock.”

“Got it. Your minute’s up. Bye, Mick.”

I take a long pull from the beer. There’s no way in hell I’m doing a fucking television show.

My foot bounces under the high-top table. Almost seven o’clock. I’m not nervous to meet Lee Sullivan, but there’s a lot riding on this. If we can’t license this show to the network, the production company will pitch something new. Which would make it the third time a show has slipped through my fingers.

The first time, funding got pulled. After that, the schedules couldn’t align. And now my lead forLove Algorithm, the dating show I created, has dropped out last minute. It’s a great concept, and I sold it to the production company as a package deal, one that locks me in as the producer. Do I care about the show? Not entirely, but I know it will work, and all I care about is getting the experience it offers.

Women’s hockey and the professional teams being formed across the United States are being discussed on the TVs mounted on the walls. Maybe this is a sign, considering I’mmeeting with Lee Sullivan, former captain of the Minnesota Lakes NHL team. I need him for my show. Sipping my cocktail, I roll my shoulders. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

It’s not like I’ve spent the last four months working tirelessly with engineers to perfect the AI algorithm. I’ve busted my ass and trust the system we’ve created to match singles based on artificial intelligence. However, starting with a new love interest means we have to move fast, because we’ve got to open another casting call for matches, plus run their background reports, carry out psychological interviews, and perform screen checks to make sure it’s not some fifteen-minute-Felicity looking to boost her Instagram following.

My racing thoughts are interrupted by a tall blue-eyed Norwegian drink of water ducking under the doorframe when he walks in the bar. Sully. Damn… He’s gorgeous. Even better looking than the headshots I pitched to casting… and those headshots were pretty great.

Raising my hand, I grab his attention, and he smiles.Oh shit, he’s perfect.I’m certain that smile is pouring butterflies into the stomach of every woman in his vicinity. Even my stomach did a little flip-flop. Ineedhim forLove Algorithm.

“Kendra?”

Game time. “Hi, Lee! Thank you so much for meeting with me tonight.”

“It’s no problem. I actually go by Sully—or Sullivan, whichever you prefer,” he says while taking a seat across from me.

God, he smells good too. We shake hands, and his palm engulfs mine. It’s huge. I steel my expression, slipping on my professional mask, to keep from nervously laughing. All I can think about is the damage those fingers could do to me—I mean, a different woman. A woman who isn’t me. Because this isn’t a date, this is a business meeting—and I never mix business withpleasure. Never. Especially not when everything I’ve worked for is riding on this show.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I offer.

“What are you having?”

“A Tom Collins.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Old school.”

“I preferclassic.”

The corner of his mouth tips up. “Just surprising for somebody so…”

Young. The word he’s looking for is young. I raise a brow back to him, daring for him to finish his sentence. “Somebody so…?”

I have a love-hate relationship with my age. I’m proud of what I’ve already accomplished at age twenty-three, but that number often gets me overlooked. They tell me it takes time to make it in the industry. I know that, but let’s face it, this industry is based around youth. As a young Black woman, the cards are stacked against me. I gotta make a name for myself early if I want to get somewhere.

Sully clears his throat. “I was just expecting you to order something like…”

He’s struggling, and I can’t help but enjoy watching him squirm, trying not to offend me. It’s cute. Why did he feel the need to even comment on my age? It’s a pet peeve of mine.

I take a sip from my straw as he stumbles over his words.

“Hennessy?” I suggest. That was probably a little much, but he had it coming. Don’t come for my age like that. If you make me feel uncomfortable, I will make you feel uncomfortable right back.

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