Page 11 of Hard Count
Vivienne handed the phone back. “Nothing sells like two men in tights trying to destroy each other on field. It’s like a bunch of fucking buff Peter Pans prancing around acting manly. ”
“Especially when they’re both beautiful.”
“That too.”
Vivienne leaned back, scanning the restaurant once, checking for any sports agents, but all she was getting was Hollywood pricks jerking each other off. Then she folded her hands. “They’re building a marketing narrative around the rivalry.”
“You saw the ratings for their first meeting.”
“Thirty fucking million watched.”
Vivienne slid a folder across the table. Carmen opened it. Her eyebrows rose by a few degrees. “Designer underwear,” she said. “No expense is spared. Print. Commercials. Billboards. All the things, bitch.”
“Both of them.”
“Both of them.”
Carmen was quiet for a moment, not reading. “They understand,” Vivienne said carefully, “that putting those two men in the same room with that much skin and fucking baby oil is going to generate a certain kind of attention. There will be a certain amount of backlash, but frankly backlash sells outside of racist celebrity Tweets from 2014.”
“That’s the point.”
“The league will want credit for the demographics.”
“The league can have it.”
Vivienne set the folder down.
“I’ll need to speak with my Piper first,” Vivienne said.
“Of course.”
“He’s particular about his image.”
Carmen smiled. “So is mine. He’ll do it anyway, he loves being naked on camera, remember how big hisSports Illustratedspread in theBody Issuewas post-MVP?”
Vivienne looked at her steadily. “I sure do, Piper has refused that issue three times. He is such a fucking prude sometimes. You sound certain about Noah?”
“I know what Noah wants.”
“And what does Noah want?”
Carmen finished her martini. “Another shot at Piper Ashton.”
“Easy, bitch,” Vivienne said. “We are still 1-0 against each other.”
Vivienne considered that. Then she closed the folder and picked up the menu. The decision was made.
“Lord help us,” she said. “Into the eye of the storm we go, two bitches and their quarterbacks.”
Carmen took a bite of her burger, her eyes fully rolled to the back of her head at that point.
***
Vivienne’s office had a view of the Hollywood sign and deliberately uncomfortable chairs, a combination that was intentional. Piper sat in one of them and kept his posture where it was, because giving Vivienne the satisfaction of watching him shift around was not something he wanted to show his agent/manager combo.
She flipped the campaign proposal across the desk.
Piper barely caught it and opened the first page.
