Page 61 of The Situation
Air struggles to fill my lungs as Tate’s gaze lands roughly on me. It’s heavy. It’s intentional. And it’s chock-full of questions.
But as I squirm in my seat, feeling guilty as hell about lying to him about my name, and worried he’ll think I tried to pull a fast one over on him by screwing the owner of the company, I realize something: I have questions, too.
I level my gaze with his, only to receive a barely lifted brow in return.
“That’s not a problem,” Dan says, rocking back in his chair as Tate sits to my right.
I take a deep breath, searching for the notes of his cologne that I’ve longed for all weekend. He leans forward to place his coffee and a notepad on the table. It’s enough movement to fill my senses with amber and vanilla.
Lord, help me.
“Do you want to take the lead on this, or do you want me to explain why we’re here?” Dan asks Tate.
“Why don’t you do the honors?” Tate asks, his gaze sliding back to me.
“Excellent,” Dan says. “Team, as most of you have probably heard by now, Charlie McCabe has taken a leave of absence. There was a family emergency on the West Coast. We hope to have him back once things are situated, but right now, it’s up in the air.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jackson says.
“Where does that leave us in the rebrand?” Derek asks.
“We’re charging full steam ahead,” Dan says.
Jackson glances at me. “The visual deck just came in from the art department for the logo, colors, and mascot.”
“Charlie saw those come in before he left and made notes. They’re on my desk. I’ll send those to you as soon as we finish here,” I say.
“Great,” Jackson says.
“Do you happen to know when we can expect a final report from Good Day?” Derek asks. “We’ve been waiting on the market research for a week now, and Charlie said we should have it today.”
Tally nods. “Yes. There’s been a slight delay. I checked with Good Day’s project manager this morning. The data has all come in, but it’s still being analyzed. They amended the delivery date to Friday.”
I look at Tate out of the corner of my eye. He’s listening intently, as if this information fascinates him.
“I’m sorry,” Tate says, the corner of his lip twitching. “I missed your name.”
I bite my tongue. “Aurora Johnson.”
“Aurora Johnson.” He says my name slowly, as if tasting it on his tongue. “You seem to have a solid grasp on what’s happening here. What is it you do, exactly?”
“Mr. McCabe hired me to assist in the rebranding of the Raptors, specifically community engagement. While Derek and his team are working on more robust marketing strategies for the community at large, I’m focusing primarily on the fan experience.”
“I’m a big believer in creating a memorable experience,” Tate says, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
I steady myself, refusing to participate in whatever experience he’s striving for now.
“How do we convert an average hockey fan into a Raptors superfan?” I ask. “How can we turn the gameday experience into something special? How can we go into the community and build strong ties with our neighbors so they see us not as a money-grabbing sports franchise but a valuable tool that cares about the community?” I smile at him. “These are the questions I’m asking and hoping to answer.”
“Don’t let Aurora fool you,” Dan says, beaming at me. “She’s doing much more than that. She’s also rebuilding our … what do you call it? Spirit team?”
I nod. “We’re leaning toward The Talon Team but haven’t finalized that decision.”
“Aurora is also McCabe’s unofficial assistant,” Dan says, looking at Tate. “This woman is a sponge. She soaks up everything you give her.”
Tate fights a grin. “That’s great to know.”
I struggle not to roll my eyes.
