Page 48 of Cockpit
“Advertising?”
“I’ve pulled in double the advertising than what we normally do. Possibly because I’ve opened the option to advertising more male-oriented products—”
“Why?”
“Because women are looking at this contest side by side with the products. They assume that these men use them, and it tempts them to click and buy.”
“Okay.” The word comes out in murmured consent.
“And according to the hits on the site and for each link, it seems to be working. We’ve had a fifteen-percent increase for the advertisers’ links, and overall, the website has seen a twenty-percent increase in traffic.”
He makes a noncommittal sound, but I know it’s because he’s writing all this down. The man loves his numbers. “How do you plan to sustain this?”
“Why are you asking? I’ve never seen you this involved in the day to day of your other magazines. Don’t you have a set of managers who would love to ask me all of this?” I tease, knowing he would likely double-check their work too.
“Yeah, well, it isn’t every day I have my daughter doing such great work.” Is it sad that a part of me sags in relief over not having let him down and the other stands tall from his praise? “So . . .”
“So?”
“How do you plan to maintain this level of interest?”
“I’m working on that. I’ve sent out press releases, have a social media marketing plan in place when the next round of voting begins, and—”
“I was pleased to see the numbers on my report. I was more than happy to know you were applying yourself. Rissa has reassured me that she’s given you a
few challenges to deal with and she’s confident that you won’t let her down. Let’s see that you don’t, because her word is what will either earn or lose you the position at Haute.”
“I won’t.”
“So then why are you letting me down?”
“What?” I hate the sudden jolt of my heart in my chest at his words.
“I placed a call to an old friend down there, and the first thing she talks about is how you are in today’s newspaper, kissing one Grayson Malone. That doesn’t happen to be the same Grayson Malone who is on Modern Family’s website as a contestant, is it?”
Words fail me as I fumble with the keys on my computer to bring up the Sunnyville Gazette. I scroll through the home page of the local newspaper, and right there in the Tuesday gossip column is a picture of Grayson and me. Or more specifically a picture of the kiss I planted on his lips in the middle of the bar. Both of my hands are on the sides of his cheeks, and my lips are more than slanted over his.
“I can explain that picture. It isn’t what you think.”
“Hmm.” I hate that sound. “It is you in that picture, right?”
“Yes.” My voice is barely a whisper. The high from getting his praise moments ago comes crashing down with the sudden disappointment heavy in his voice. Feeling like a reprimanded child, I try to explain. “He helped me with a situation, and there was a party, and I was thanking him—”
“Whether you are sleeping with him or playing Yahtzee with him . . . how exactly do you think it looks to have the person running the contest for my magazine also mentioned in a newspaper gossip column as dating him? Because, from my vantage point, it would seem a little fishy if, say, said contestant ended up winning the ten-thousand-dollar purse.”
“But I have nothing to do with the voting whatsoever.”
“Do you think the public will believe that? Do you think they care? All they see is bias.”
“Dad . . . it isn’t as if this is some formal election . . . it’s a fun contest.”
“For you maybe, but for some of these guys, the prize money is a handsome amount. It isn’t their next reservation on a private jet, it’s how they are going to pay off their credit card bills or put a down payment on a house.”
I sigh. There’s nothing else I can do to get him to see my side of things. And sadly, while he has a point about voter perception, it’s all quite ridiculous to be so serious about the whole thing.
“Dad. I assure you—”
“I assure you that this isn’t something the editor-in-chief of Haute would be caught dead doing.”
