Page 112 of The Situation
“First, I’d get rid of that terrible Raptors mascot and replace it with something elevated yet relatable. We’d build an iconic logo that’s fresh and marketable—something that looks great on merch. That sounds crazy, but it isn’t. Great merch is easy marketing, and the best brands have it figured out.”
She’s right. Spot-fucking-on.
“New colors that don’t scream Midwestern US high school basketball.”
I laugh. She’s not wrong, though.
“With that said, we’d update the facilities and overhaul the arena. Give people a reason to want to come and spend their money here. Make it a good time.
"We need people who are a draw. People love winners, sure, but they also love people with a story. People they can root for or against. It doesn’t matter.
“Stronger digital platforms. Involve the fans and increase engagement. Start traditions. People love a tradition!”
Every word out of her mouth is inspiring, thought-provoking, and invigorating.
My girl is a superstar. I can’t wait to watch her take hold of this project and mold it into something we’re both proud of … because it would be ours.
“Might as well start building shit together now because I have no plans to ever let her go.”
I’ve fallen in love with her, and I fucking hope the feeling is mutual.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Aurora
“What are we doing? Tate asks, stretching out beside me on his bed.
“Rotting.”
“Rotting.” He tests the words on his tongue. “What the hell doesrottingmean?”
“It means we rot.”
He makes a face. “Which means what?”
“It means we’re going to lie here and do nothing. No effort. We’ll get up to go to the bathroom and refill drinks. That’s it. Think of it as if you’re charging your batteries.”
He grabs his cock and shakes it. “My batteries don’t charge unless I’m plugged in.”
I laugh as I curl up next to him.
We’ve spent every day together for the past couple of weeks, and every day it feels a little more like we’ve been doing it forever. We have our routine—Tate gets up an hour before I do and wakes me before he leaves. I usually get back to the house before him, so I start dinner, and he comes home at the end and helps me finish the recipe.
For someone who hasn’t lived with anyone before, at least as far as I know, Tate has adjusted very quickly. Surprisingly, he’s easy to live with, too.Not that I’ve moved in—that would be way too fast.
His circle has also been kind to me. We had dinner with Renn and Blakely one night, and his brother Ripley swung by to borrow something. He was a slightly different version of Tate, and we got along great.
So apart from Tate’s not-so-subtle suggestions about getting married, it’s been pretty perfect.
Work, on the other hand, is a different story. I’m not sure what the hell is going on there. Energetically working toward new goals and a new direction has just … stopped. Tally and I have very little on our plates. If anyone knows what’s happening, nobody’s saying a word.
Not even Tate.
Shouldn’t he still be leading us and overseeing the department's functions?It’s so … weird. And I don’t know what to make of it.
“What do you think about taking a vacation next week?” he asks. “Let’s get through the weekend, then spend a few days away—just the two of us.”
My chest constricts as I read between the lines.
