Page 55 of Sealing the Deal

There’s a pleading in his eyes, and yet I hesitate. The Hay Barn is closed today, but I miss Izzy and Mama and Oakwood Ranch. I’d probably have gone out this afternoon under normal circumstances. A little voice whispers in my thoughts that I could still do all that tomorrow. It’s just one more day.

Grayson’s mouth curves into a small, hopeful smile, as though he can see I’m wavering. “I’ll buy you a croissant.”

I snort despite myself. “That’s your big bribe?”

“Hey, it’ll be the best croissant in the city.”

“Fine,” I reply, like I’m giving in when really the thought of staying in this city for another day with this man causes something warm and fizzy to bloom in my chest. My head might know with absolute certainty that this is too complicated to stand a chance, but damn if my body doesn’t ache for Grayson’s touch.

“But only because I don’t think I can fly commercial anymore,” I joke. I point my mug at him. “And the croissant had better be good.”

Grayson smiles wide, eyes crinkling at the side, promising fun. “Let me grab another coffee first. You want another one too?”

“Hell, yes.” I gulp down the contents of my mug and hand it to him.

He flicks on the coffee machine then turns to me. “Can I ask you something?”

I narrow my eyes.

“About the Stormhawks,” he adds.

“OK.”

“If you were the Huberts, if it was your team, what would you do differently?”

The question sparks through me, catching my interest. “Why are you asking?”

“Because you know a hell of a lot more than me. And because whatever the Huberts and management have been doing for the last few years, it hasn’t been working. We need fresh ideas, and I have a feeling you’ve got them.”

I grin. “It’s not going to be pretty.”

“Hit me with it all.”

I don’t need to be asked twice. “The Huberts did a good job of hiding their money problems from the world. Too good, actually. It made it hard for fans to understand the sale. But it got me thinking about the problems,” I say. “The team’s been bleeding money for years, right?”

Grayson nods.

“And actually, that makes sense. They’ve got legacy fans, sure, but game day attendance has been slipping, and that’s where the losses start. Empty seats mean less concession revenue, less merch, and less leverage with sponsors.”

He watches me closely.

“They do good work in the community. We saw that for ourselves, right? But they barely promote it. Fans don’t connect the good the team does with the brand itself. That’s a missed opportunity. The Stormhawks are still the beating heart of the city, but not enough people realize it. And that has a knock-on effect with game day attendance.”

I pause, choosing my words.

“The team are doing their bit right now. We all know the difference a Super Bowl appearance will make to raising their profile. It will make bigger sponsors pay attention. But it could dwindle in one season if the long-term issues aren’t addressed.”

Grayson hands me my mug. “Such as?”

“The Stormhawks fan base is over forty percent women, and not a single major sponsor is speaking directly to them. You’re so focused on those traditional sponsors—the cars and trucks, the sports drinks, the tech firms—but their adverts are all aimed at men. It might not be glamorous or sexy but ignoring sponsors for women is money left on the table. You grow the brand by reflecting the people who actually show up. That’s where the money is. Do you know how much money the beauty and skincare industry has to spend on advertising? Those are the sponsors you need to reach out to.

“And then there are the assets the Stormhawks have but barely use. The stadium rarely hosts concerts or corporate showcases. Musicians are booking in Boulder when they could, and should, be in Denver, filling up our stadium.

“The training facility is world-class—gym, catering, pools—and it sits empty too much of the time.” My voice hardens. “Convert one field. Just one. Ice rink. Basketball court. Whatever. Bring in Denver’s other pro teams, offseason programs, events. Make the facilities work year-round.” I take a long sip of coffee. “If it was me, that’s where I’d start. This isn’t just a football problem; it’s a business one.”

Grayson finishes making his coffee. I can see his mind working over what I’ve told him. “Will you come with me to a meeting I’ve got on Tuesday and say all that again?”

I grin. “Really? You want me to tell them?”