Page 108 of Red Zone
And she looks every bit the golden girl her social media makes her out to be: perfectly styled blonde hair in a sleek ponytail, full lashes, flawless skin, PCU warmup jacket fitted like it was tailored just for her. Even her sneakers are spotless.
“Hi, Savannah,” I say as I stand to greet her, forcing my best professional smile. “Thanks for meeting with me today.”
She slides into the chair across from me without offering a handshake.
“Yeah,” she says, already scrolling through her phone. “Of course. Megan said you’re my…handler or whatever now?”
I keep my smile in place and sit back down. “You could say that. I’ll be managing your NIL deals going forward—fielding offers, presenting options, making sure everything aligns with your goals and brand.”
At that, she glances up and arches one perfectly shaped brow. “My brand is me. Everyone already wants me. I don’t really think I need help making sure of that.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and nod, scribbling a note just to keep my hands busy.
“Understood,” I say calmly. “But with everything that happened this week, it’s important we control the narrative and set you up with brands that support your image long-term.”
Her eyes narrow slightly at my mention of “everything that happened” but she doesn’t correct me.
Instead, she leans back in her chair, arms crossing over her chest.
“Well,” she says, her tone clipped now. “Just so we’re clear—there are brands I absolutely won’t work with, no matter what. No exceptions.”
“Of course,” I say quickly. “If you have a list, I can?—”
“I don’t need a list,” she cuts in, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder. “There’s one in particular. Posie and Company.”
I pause, pen hovering over the page. “Posie and Company?”
She smirks, like she’s just waiting for me to ask.
“That’s who Avery Daniels signed with last month,” she says, her tone dripping with disdain.
“She’s mediocre at best, and she only got the campaign because her dad knows someone at corporate. So, no. Absolutely not. I won’t be seen in the same lineup as her. Ever.”
I jot it down, keeping my expression neutral, even though inwardly I’m already recalibrating everything I’d researched about potential partners.
“Got it,” I say smoothly. “Posie and Company is off the table.”
Savannah hums in approval, already scrolling through her phone again.
For a second, I let my pen hover over my notes, glancing up at her carefully.
I jot another note, then glance back up at her, forcing myself to keep calm and professional.
“Is there anything else you think I should know? Anything that’s especially important to you that we haven’t covered yet?”
Savannah taps her manicured nails against the table, pretending to think. “Just remember what I said—bigger and better. I don’t care what anyone else on this campus is doing. I’m not here to play second to anyone. Make sure the brands you pitch understand that.”
I nod, closing my notebook. “Understood.”
I start to stack my folders, relieved to finally have an excuse to leave, when my phone buzzes against the table.
I glance down instinctively, only to see his name light up the screen.
Quarterback.
Savannah’s eyes catch it immediately. Her smirk is sharp enough to cut glass.
“Well, well,” she drawls, her gaze flicking from the screen to me. “Is that Carter Hayes?”
