The Aubrey Rules (14 page)

Chapter 20

The Aubrey Rules To Live By, Rule #20:
When attending a client meeting, one should be actively engaged-listening and taking notes, remaining focused on the conversation, and participating if you can contribute in a meaningful way.

**Amendment**
When Beckett is the client in the meeting, it is IMPOSSIBLE to stay focused on a presentation when all I want to do is stare at how he’s so cute with a black eye. Therefore, the occasional drift of thought to his black eye is completely acceptable.

**Amendment #2**
Or drift off to think of his super-hot hockey abs. This is acceptable as well.

**Note**
Hockey abs are a beautiful thing.

**Note #2**
GAH, I have NO abs. Need to work on this before Beckett sees them. Will do 100 crunches tonight. And run on the treadmill.

**Note #3**
With the way I’m feeling about him, he will see my abs sooner rather than later.

**Note #4**
Make that 600 crunches.

“Beckett, Evan, thank you for coming back to ChicagoConnect on your day off,” Tom says, smiling at them from across the conference table. “We’re excited to present our final pitch to you today.”

I stare down at my notepad, hardly daring to even glance at Beckett. It’s Monday, and I’m in the client meeting to win Beckett’s business.

This is so weird. I’ve made out with the hot guy across the table. I’ve slept in his arms. We’ve shared stories and laughed together, and I’m crazy about him. So it’s strange to be in the same room with him and not acknowledge him in any way, other than a “hi” when he first walked in the door.

“After our first meeting,” Tom says, standing up, “my team went to work to further flesh out a social media and website strategy for you. Mallory, if you’d please present some creative ideas for the Beckett Riley brand, the floor is yours.”

Mallory rises from the seat next to me. I watch as she confidently strides to the front of the room, wearing her brand-new Theory black sheath dress. How do I know it’s new? I had to run to Neiman Marcus to pick it up, and then she told me this was business because she needed a power dress for this meeting.

“Good afternoon,” Mallory says in a bright, cheery, ultra-fake voice. “It’s so good to have you back at ChicagoConnect, Beckett.”

Okay, I have to look. I glance across the table at Beckett, who seems as though he’d sooner take fifty pucks to the face without a visor on than listen to Mallory.

“Thanks,” Beckett says, his voice showing no excitement of being here whatsoever.

I bite down on my tongue to keep from laughing. I shift my gaze to Mallory, who is standing there with a frozen smile on her face. It’s a good thing she’s perfected that expression, because if she presents that Tinder plan to Beckett, she’s going to need it.

“Neilson, if you could start the PowerPoint please,” Mallory asks.

Why do I feel as if I’m about to watch a train derail right in front of me?

“Beckett, you’re a young, handsome, rising star in the league,” Mallory says. “What we would like to do is two-fold: increase your marketability with sponsors and advertisers and . . .”

I zone out as she goes into strategy speak. I know I should be concentrating, but since Mallory is an idiot, I decide not to waste my time putting her thoughts in my head when I’m going to delete them and dump them in my mental trashcan instantly anyway.

She drones on and on in her super-excited, fake positive-energy voice, and I briefly shift my attention from Mallory to Beckett. He’s watching Mallory, his face completely blank, and I know he isn’t having any of this. He
hates
fake people, and Mallory is without a doubt one of the top five fakest people I’ve ever met.

“And we’ve come up with some innovative ideas to expose you to new fans and have you interact with them, with linkage to sponsorship and other media opportunities in mind. One such tool,” Mallory says, following the new slide that has popped up on the screen, “is Tinder.”

I jerk my head up. Ah! She is hellbent on using Tinder! I glance at Beckett, who is staring at the screen with a WTF expression on his face, even though I warned him this would be headed his way.

“Tinder?” Beckett asks, wrinkling his brow.

Mallory nods, oblivious to the fall she is about to take. “Beckett, you are young. Single. No doubt dating, right?”

I can’t help it. A surge of jealousy hits me.
No, he’s not dating,
I think, staring at the Tinder proposal.
He’s with me.

Okay, so he’s only been with me on three dates and could decide by tonight it’s not going anywhere according to logic and common sense dating rules.

But my heart knows he won’t.

And right now my heart is having none of this Tinder crap.

“Right,” Beckett says, answering her question.

I inwardly wince. Okay. Okay. What else was he going to say?
“Well, I spent the night last night at your coordinator’s house, and spent all day with her yesterday, and have plans to cook dinner with her after work?”

Still. I don’t like this.

I chew on my lip as Mallory dives ahead.

“You could date on Tinder, Beckett,” Mallory says excitedly. “So many athletes and celebrities are doing it. And what if we could package this as a segment on
Inside Chicago Buffaloes?
We could film your dates, get a sponsor for it, and then see if you find your love match?”

I turn my attention to Beckett. He’s rubbing his hand against the side of his face. He’s embarrassed by this idea, and worse having to hear it in front of a group of strangers. Oh, this is so, so, not good.

“No,” he says firmly.

Mallory freezes while Tom’s eyes widen.

“Um, well, it was merely an idea,” Mallory says breezily. “Now, Neilson, if you’ll advance through—”

“If you had done any homework on me you should have known this was a
horrible
idea,” Beckett says, coming right back to Mallory. “Because not only do I
hate
this idea, I would never do this in a million years.”

Haaaaaaaaaaaaa! Mallory’s mask falls. Her face pales. Apparently she isn’t used to a client calling her out so bluntly.

“Well, Beckett, we know you won’t agree with every idea presented,” Tom says, rallying to save Mallory. “But our job is to push you out of your comfort zone on occasion to build your reach.”

“I thought your job was to help me build a platform that is genuine,” Beckett challenges. “Swiping chicks on Tinder is
not
me.”

I adore my Captain Smart Ass.

“Again, simply an idea,” Evan says, nodding at Tom. “Let’s see what else they have to say.”

“Okay, moving on–” Mallory begins, but she’s quickly interrupted by Beckett.

“I want to know what Aubrey has written down on her notepad,” Beckett announces.

Gah!
What is he doing? I feel heat rise in my cheeks. Everyone is staring at me, and I know they don’t understand this odd fascination this hockey captain has with the girl with no experience.

“Um,” Mallory says, her face pinched into smile, “why don’t I finish up this presentation first?”

“Good idea,” Tom echoes, once again finding himself in a position to try and get the captain under control.

“Doesn’t it say on your website that contributions from all staff levels are encouraged at ChicagoConnect? Or was that some PR bullshit?” Beckett challenges.

Whoa.

Now I know why he’s such an amazing captain. He’s quick. He does his homework. And while he’s shy and soft-spoken, he will attack when needed. He stands up for himself and what he needs. For what his teammates need.

And I realize he’s now standing up for what I need, too.

Tom clears his throat. “It’s not bullshit. So Aubrey, would you care to share your notes with us?”

My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure Beckett can hear it across the conference table.

“Okay,” I say, ignoring the daggers that are flying from Mallory’s eyes. “First, I don’t see Tinder as a platform for Beckett for the same reasons he voiced. I can see him doing fun things on Twitter. Going out for dinner and posting a pic of his food. Posting pics of when he’s out with friends. Showing him doing regular things. Fans are desperate to see this side of his life. So I see Instagram, Connectivity, Facebook, and Twitter as easy ways for him to start to connect with his fans on a more personal level.”

“What else?” Beckett asks, studying me.

“The website. We only had designs for menswear. Women
love
Beckett. You only need to spend five minutes searching for him on Twitter, Pinterest, or Tumblr to see that. If you had clothing and yoga pants and pajamas for women with the BR design, it would fly.”

“Pajama bottoms,” Beckett says, his large brown eyes sparkling at me. “Girls dig pajama bottoms?”

Oh, I’m so getting him back for this later.

“A lot of girls wear them,” I counter.

Beckett flashes me that oh-so-sexy crooked smile. “Gotcha.”

Suddenly I have an idea for it’s a ‘Messy bun, pajama bottoms and Captain Riley’ kind of day T-shirt. Before I lose the thought, I scribble it on my notepad.

“She gets it,” Beckett says, interrupting my thoughts. I glance up, and Beckett is staring straight at Tom. “I’m willing to sign on, but only if Aubrey can accompany me out to some events so she can help guide my social media.”

What? With a jolt, I realize this is what he meant yesterday.

Beckett is laying the groundwork for us to be seen out together in public.

“You want Aubrey to accompany you as your
consultant?
” Mallory squeaks, unable to keep the repulsion out of her voice.

“Yes. She gets it. And if she’s going to represent me and my voice, she needs to see what my life is about. Come to some practices. Games. If I have a photo shoot or signing, I want her to attend.”

I hold my breath as Tom takes in his proposal. I see Tom wrestling with this. He wants this account so badly, to build a sports arm, but yet he knows this is not normal to put the account into the hands of a brand-new employee.

“We can
try
it,” Tom says slowly, leaning forward in his chair. “As long as Aubrey is okay with the arrangement and working strictly on this account.”

Ahhhhhhhhhh! I want to jump out of my chair with joy, but I need to portray a thoughtful, mature response.

I pick up my pen and tap it against my lips as if I’m considering this and weighing out the pros and cons of working with Beckett.

“I would love to have the opportunity, Tom,” I say slowly.

“Okay. I think it’s best that Aubrey report to me on this from this point forward,” Tom declares.

Ooooooh! Mallory has been removed from the account! She stands at the front of the room, her mouth open. But when she feels my eyes on her, she abruptly closes her mouth.

“I think at this point we can end the meeting,” Evan says. “ChicagoConnect handles the social media and website for the Beckett Riley brand, with Aubrey running the social media accounts.”

“I’ll get with Aubrey, and we’ll develop a new plan for you, Beckett. And Alyssa will work on some women’s wear designs to show you as well,” Tom says.

“Okay,” Beckett says, nodding.

Tom finishes up the meeting, with new deadlines set for another proposal, and he encourages me to set up my own meetings with Beckett, too.

As hands are shaken and people leave, Beckett clears his throat and turns to Evan.

“I’m going to take a minute to talk to Aubrey, I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“Okay,” Evan says, nodding.

“Here, let me walk you out,” Tom says.

Finally it’s just me and Beckett.

“Well played,” I say softly to him.

Beckett flashes me a smile, and my pulse burns in response.“We have a lot of work to do.”

“I know, you’re terrible at social media,” I quip.

I can tell Beckett is trying really hard not to laugh.

“I’m a dork. You need to change that.”

“No, you’re not,” I say firmly. “But I’m going to put you out there more.”

“You’ll have to come to practice tomorrow. Games.”

“I don’t know how I’ll manage it,” I tease.

“We’ll have to have strategy meetings.”

“Agreed.”

“I have an autograph session Wednesday night,” Beckett continues.

“So apparently I have plans.”

“Apparently you do.”

Happiness radiates through me. Not only am I going to do Beckett’s social media exclusively, but we’re going to spend time together in the only way we can right now. Well, at least according to my rules it is the only way we can, but I’m going to be with Beckett. In the real world.

And I can’t wait to see him in action with fans on Wednesday night.