Series: Fever Falls Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“Oh, wow. Sounds like I need an attorney for this.” He pondered for a moment. “Commercials? I’d be like the GEICO Gecko?” he asked with a wink.
“Probably more like Progressive’s Flo, but that’s actually a pretty good idea of what you’d be doing.”
He chuckled before throwing his head back to enjoy a good laugh. He took another sip of his beer before saying, “This is some crazy shit, Dax, right?” I confirmed it, and he said, “Listen, you have to bear with me for a second. This has all been a lot to deal with recently, and so far outside anything I’m used to. I’ve spent most of my life in Fever Falls, and stuff like this just doesn’t happen unless you happen to be a big-shot sports celebrity like Ash Carmichael, who for the past few months had paparazzi hounding him after being outed online. But after my picture got big, I was getting all these calls, so much that I had to change my number. I even stayed at my mom’s place for a few days because people were hiding in the bushes outside my house to get pictures. It was out of this world.”
As I’d suspected, the guy was in way over his head. I almost felt bad that I would be persuading him to get himself in this that much deeper.
“You’ve gotta enjoy some of it, though.”
“Oh yeah. It’s a little fun, and it’s awesome having people and even kids coming up and asking for autographs. And I got Mac out of it, so…”
“Mac is…”
“My little Shar-Pei.”
I laughed. “Of course. He looked like a Mac, so good name selection. So…what do you say, you interested in being the face of a brand?”
“Me, the face of a brand?” He laughed out loud, as though that was the funniest shit he’d ever heard. “But what exactly does that even entail?”
“For something like this…a year commitment to the endorsement deal, but a longer non-compete clause. You’ll be expected to, at the drop of a hat, head off to any city, worldwide, for photoshoots and commercial shoots. You know how singers go on tour? Or like Miss America? You’ll be doing something similar, but to represent the brand at events, fashion shows…”
“What about the station?”
“The fire station? You would have to take time off to make this commitment, but we could likely work something out for you to work too.”
He bit his lip, as though that was his greatest obstacle.
“I think maybe I need to tell you, we’re talking high six figures here. I’m not dicking you around, flying out here to bullshit you with some offer that won’t be well worth your time. This would be lucrative for everyone involved.”
He sighed. “Yeah, I just don’t know. I’m sure you know this isn’t the first pitch I’ve heard since all this started, and…well, it was especially hard to handle when everything was happening those first couple of weeks. I like my life. I like my job. I like my little Shar-Pei.”
“Oh, we would expect the Shar-Pei to be part of the deal,” I assured him, finding the whole situation fairly comical. By the way he laughed at my comment, he seemed to as well.
He shook his head. “It just doesn’t seem like me. Hell, this whole thing started over a dumb picture.”
“Jace, it might have been a dumb picture, but it’s not: it’s gold. An opportunity like this is like winning the lottery.”
“Six figures? Yeah. Damn.”
Our food arrived, and I nibbled on my chicken tenders as Jace devoured his steak and fries.
He swallowed another bunch of fries before saying, “Well, you’ve definitely given me something to think about. Why aren’t you eating your chicken?”
“I’m eating it,” I said defensively, and he offered a cross look in response.
“What kind of diet is this?”
“A lifelong diet. Apparently, the gods gave you the metabolism of a titan, but I have to fight this shit off if I want to look even close to that picture of you.”
“Ah, you must have a pretty hot body. Come on.”
Again with him catching me off guard.
He must be closeted…or something. I hadn’t seen anything online about him being gay or bi, but maybe I’d just overlooked it.
“Well, my body under this is a direct consequence of my diet, so I think I’ll keep with my tenders and let you lay waste to your platter.”
“I do love food,” he acknowledged before continuing right along.
I gave him some time before finally picking up where we left off. “So what are you thinking, now that you’re digesting what I said and the food?”
He pressed his thumb against his cheek, eyeing me in a way I couldn’t read.
“I think you should meet my mother.”
“What?” I asked, totally thrown.
“Yeah.” He nodded subtly. “You need to come meet the fam. My mom’s a great judge of character. If she likes you, which is rare, then maybe I’ll do this.”