Page 16 of Kiss & Collide
“Who’s your PR person? We need to set up a meeting ASAP.”
He turned to face her and leaned back on the edge of her desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
“No, your personal PR person. You have one, don’t you?”
“Of my own? No.” A lot of guys did, but that always seemed like one of those luxuries you got when you ascended up the ranks, which had decidedly not happened to him, until now.
Her eyebrows drew together. “Who handles your media?”
He shrugged. “If someone wanted to talk to me, they went through Hansbach. Their PR person set it up. Didn’t happen often enough to be an issue.”
Violet sighed and pressed her fingers against her forehead. “Do you have someone coordinating your sponsorships for you?”
He scoffed. “There’s not much to coordinate. My agent handles the contracts.”
Violet glanced around the office as though looking for patience. “How have you survived this long?” she muttered.
“I’ve done just fine, Violet.”
“Chase, you’ve been a bottom-feeder when you could have been astar.”
“What are you talking about?”
She stabbed a finger in the air, in the direction of the conference room down the hall. “That,” she said. “Today. As much as it pains me to admit this, you werebrilliant.”
“I was? I hardly said anything. You wouldn’t let me.”
“That’s the thing. You spoke for two minutes and every person in that room was in love with you. Dieter was in there for two hours and I doubt any of them can remember a second of it.”
“It’s just press stuff.”
Violet crossed her arms and he couldn’t help glancing down at the swell of her breasts cresting over the edge of her bustier. That thing was just unfair.
“That ‘press stuff’ is fucking important. Look, Pinnacle’s got a lot of liabilities. Oscar, who wouldn’t recognize innovation if it bit him in the ass; Reece, who is a walking media disaster waiting to happen; Dieter, who is about as appealing as that fermented fish thing they eat in Sweden. Right now, we have one asset, and it’s you.”
“Look, I know I’m a good driver—”
“I’m not talking about your driving! I’m talking aboutyou.” She waved a hand at him. “The face, the hair, the smile, the fucking American charm. We are making you a star.”
“Violet, this is nice and everything, but I’m not into that stuff. I just want to drive.”
“Do you really not get how this game is played? It’s all the same thing. The press coverage leads to attention. Attention gets you sponsorships. Sponsorships mean next year the budget is bigger, and the car gets better. Sponsorships mean, Chase, that next season, you get re-signed to a Formula One team instead of getting bounced to Formula E or Rally Car or something. Press keeps you behind the wheel.”
That caught his attention. He really wasn’t interested in hawking watches and men’s cologne or whatever, doing thepromotional stuff he’d seen the big drivers do. But if this could keep him in the car …
“What do I have to do?”
“Whatever I say.”
Despite the serious turn the conversation had taken, he couldn’t help but grin. “Didn’t know you were into that, but okay.”
She huffed. “Will you pay attention?”
He laughed and held up his hands. “I am, I am. I promise. So you want me to, what … do some interviews?”
“I’m thinking bigger than interviews. I’m thinking photo shoots, publicity events, parties … Maybe we’ll find you someone to date.”
“Hey, I donotneed help with that.”
