The Kiss That Launched 1,000 Gifs (3 page)

Jan ignored their barbs at each other and pressed on. “These two were the most extreme of the shots we’re choosing from, so I thought I’d show them here in case there was pushback. But we think that this visual campaign combined with you two raising the heat on each other online could really give the show the lift it needs to have a good shot at a renewal.”

“Heat?” Grace asked, growing still. “What kind of heat are you talking about?”

“Nothing physical or anything like that,” Emily jumped in. “We are all well aware of your relationship with Phillip, Grace. We don’t want to do anything that throws that into question. But we do think it would help ratings to raise the friction level with Ashton a bit.”

When Grace said nothing, Ash knew he wasn’t the only one who was lost.

“Yeah…” he said. “You’re going to have to spell that out a little better for me. We dudes need exact instructions.”

“It’s simple stuff, really,” Jan said, focusing in on Ash. “Ideally we would get you hooked up on a social media platform and have one or two interactions each day be something that polarizes followers. And we need it to be you, Ashton. Your listeners know you really well, and they would sniff out a stand-in pretty quickly, I think.”

Ash fought back a groan. “So I need to start posting on Facebook?”

“Instagram would be better,” Grace said from his left, and Ash looked to Jan and Emily for confirmation.

“Each site has its pros and cons,” Jan said. “Twitter is for business and influencers, but given that most of your fans are stay-at-home moms, that’s not your best bet. Moms use Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest.”

“And they would not want to see any Pinterest page Ashton created,” Grace said with a grin. “Plus, we can duplicate anything he does on Instagram straight over to Facebook and get double the traction. Images get more responses on both platforms. We can just take something he says and meme it, or…”

“Or?” Jan prompted.

“We can catch each other doing sexist stuff and post it for feedback,” Grace said. “I think the few shippers we have might multiply if Ashton and I post pictures of each other.”

Ash sent Grace a playful scowl. “You’re just trying to get me onto social media.”

“Yes,” Grace said without blinking. “I am.”

Jan smiled, ignoring the tension building between them. “We talked a lot about that in our meeting, actually. And I think calling Ashton out online is a good way to keep him engaged, and tagging and one-upping each other would go over very well.”

Ash literally did not understand what Jan was talking about, but apparently Emily did and jumped on the train.

“We think it would be great to ride this rivalry into an event that kind of organically appears in the fray of you two picking on each other. We can watch the comments and see what people want, then create an event right before our renewal D-Day to show management how much support you two have.”

“We?” Ash echoed. “Who is ‘we’ in all of this? And who’s going to get me up to speed?”

Emily grinned. “I can. I can drop by your desk, walk you through everything and coach you on how to respond.”

Ash returned her smile, liking how she blushed lightly when he said, “I’d like that.”

Next to him, Grace picked up her phone. “Sounds good. Want me to get the rivalry going now?”

“Now?” Frank asked, his brow arching with curiosity.

“Yeah,” Grace said. “On Instagram?”

Ash felt himself tense. “Wait. Shouldn’t I get an account first?”

Grace sent him a skeptical look. “And when is that going to happen? Right after you text me your Christmas list?”

Ash rolled his eyes. “It’s June.”

“Exactly,” she said, looking over at Jan. “Say the word and I’ll get this ball rolling.”

Jan and Emily stared at each other for several beats before Jan smiled and said, “Word.”

There was no hesitation on Grace’s side. With a flick of her finger, her screen lit up and she got to work doing something Ash was pretty sure wasn’t good for him.

“What are you doing?”

Her eyes stayed on her screen, her finger swiping sideways. “You’ll have to get an Instagram account to find out.”

“I’m doing an interview after this,” he said, more nervous than the situation probably required.

“Well, we all have priorities,” Grace said, fingers still working.

He felt his jaw tense. “It’s called work, Grace.”

She didn’t look up. “And isn’t it amazing how one of us manages to do both social media and in-person job responsibilities at the same time?”

Frank let out a treacherous chuckle as Ash tried to a peek at Grace’s screen. She angled it away and out of sight.

“If you’re throwing me under the bus right now, I have a right to know,” he said.

Grace nodded, typing something on her phone. “Ashton, I am totally throwing you under the bus right now.”

He reached for her phone. “Let me see.”

She gave her phone one last decisive tap then turned the screen black again. “Sorry, buddy. You’re going to have to get on Instagram to see it.”

Ash looked around the room for help and saw everyone was smiling—well, everyone but the intern. That guy just looked like he’d checked out of the meeting as soon as it began.

“Oh, c’mon. I have a right to know if I need to respond immediately,” he pled, but not even Emily looked sympathetic to his plight.

“No, I think this is fair,” Jan said. “I have no idea what she just posted, but my feminine intuition tells me that you should get an account sooner rather than later.”

Emily’s curiosity was clearly piqued because she picked up her phone and began to do some swiping of her own.

“But I don’t even have a smart phone.”

“You have the company phone you never use,” Frank reminded him.

Oh. Yeah. That. It was somewhere in his desk. It had to be, since that’s where he had stowed it the day Frank had given it to him. Crap. He did have a phone, although it probably needed to be charged at this point.

Frank cleared his throat. “As mentioned, this meeting has to be short because both Ashton and Grace have TV assignments they need to get to, but I feel good about our direction. I’ll approve the budget and we’ll get those billboards up.”

Across from him, Emily’s eyebrows shot up before she showed her phone screen to Jan. They both sent looks Grace’s way and Ash saw the distinct look of feminine approval in their gaze. In their eyes, Grace had just scored a solid point for womankind.

“Ashton?” Jan said. “I’d get on Instagram pretty quick. Your cohost is playing hardball with you.”

Ash let himself into his sister’s house and nearly walked into a shipping box. It was nearly as tall as he was and leaning against the inside door frame like an oversized wizard’s staff. Apparently his sister had made yet another online purchase.

Ash checked the tag and saw that the package had been shipped from Portland, so he guessed that whatever was about to join his sister’s unique approach to home decor, it was overpriced and hipster-made. He glanced around the living room, wondering where in the world his sister would fit something so large. The walls were already filled with a collection of feminist memorabilia Fawn Miller had found interesting at one point, mounted on the wall, and since forgotten about.

It was a miracle his niece was even marginally normal after growing up in a home where half the decoration consisted of feminist interpretations of the female reproductive system.

Needless to say, Ash’s niece had never been a big fan of inviting friends over.

“Megan?” he called out, glancing at his watch before moving the tall box farther from the door. He had forty-five minutes until volleyball practice. He wasn’t sure how long it took to get dialed into Instagram, but hopefully he had enough time to get something done.

“Over here,” his niece replied from the dining room.

Ash hated how alone Megan’s voice sounded in the empty house. His sister was off teaching a night class at the university, and while Ash knew his niece was a self-sufficient teenager, the house just felt too lonely.

Up until last year Ash’s parents had been around to fill the gap and watch over Megan, but they’d finally embraced retirement and moved to San Diego. Now it was just Ash and Fawn taking care of Megan right as his niece was heading into high school. Two more months, and Megan would be a sophomore. And whether he said it out loud or not, that fact terrified Ash.

Despite the fact that Fawn had given birth to Megan, she had never really seen herself as a mother—more as the cool older sister. Ash’s parents had been the main caretakers of Megan for the first fourteen years with Ash as a backup. Fawn had used getting her PhD and other studies as an excuse to be away from home more often than not. When Fawn did come home, she tended to spend time with Megan for as long as it was fun. When things got taxing, it was always time run off and “study” more.

Ash’s parents had debated moving away for years. It was the debate between enabling their daughter’s irresponsibility and abandoning their granddaughter.

Which was worse?

But with Ash promising to fill the gap, they’d finally made the hard choice and moved to their dream retirement community. But if Ash’s mom had walked in tonight to an empty house with Megan alone inside, he knew they would have moved back in a heartbeat.

Stomach twisting with guilt that he wasn’t doing enough, Ash crossed the living room and found his niece at the table surrounded by a laptop, books, and notepad. It was summer, but Megan wasn’t one to let that slow her down. The girl had a vision of receiving her Master’s degree by 20 and a PhD at 24—four years earlier than her mother had.

So far she was on track, even when that meant studying on a summer evening.

“How’s my little Ravenclaw?” Ash said, fully expecting the rolled eyes he got in response.

“Seriously?” Megan said, shutting the book in front of her. “I’ve been over that for, like—”

“Like, nine months now?” he teased, taking the seat next to her. “I know. Harry Potter is, like, so over once you become a freshman, right?”

Megan shrugged. “A girl’s gotta trade up sometime.”

Ash frowned. “Hmm. That sounds like something my uncle ears don’t want to hear about.”

“Probably not,” his niece said with a smirk. “You said you needed my help with something?”

“Yeah.” Ash pulled his charged work phone out of his pocket. “I’m supposed to get on Instagram for work. How does that happen?”

Megan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “My unplugged uncle is about to dial in? I don’t know whether to be proud or disillusioned.”

“Probably the latter, since I’m doing this by command of ‘The Man’… although The Man is technically a woman in this case.”

Megan’s lips pursed knowingly. “Grace?”

“It was actually Jan, the head of the marketing department,” Ash said, turning the phone on. He knew how to do that much.

His niece’s young eyes studied him with more wisdom than he expected from a fifteen-year-old. “But Grace was there to incentivize you, right?”

Ash fought the urge to fidget. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I follow Grace on Instagram and I saw what she posted today.”

“Really?” Ash said, equal parts relieved and nervous. “What did she post?”

Megan grinned. “Let’s get you set up, and you can see for yourself in five minutes.”

Ash handed his niece the phone. “It only takes five minutes?”

“If you’re not a tech-tard, sure,” she said. “All we have to do is download the app, set you up and you’ll be good to go.”

“Huh,” he said, settling in to watch her do all the work. “That sounds easy enough.”

“They try to make it foolproof,” Megan said and thirty seconds later a progress bar showed that the phone was downloading Instagram.

“Why don’t you just tell me what she posted?” Ash said, watching the bar crawl.

“Because I want to see the look on your face when you see it and hear your side of the story,” Megan said. “Although, it’s been out there for several hours with no comment from you, so I don’t know how much any defense you have will matter at this point. She totally caught you. You’ll lose points if you deny it.”

Great. Even his own flesh and blood was being coy about the matter. That couldn’t be good.

Megan leaned back in her chair. “What do you want your username to be?”

“Can it just be my name?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she replied. “But there are literally millions of people on Instagram. It’s pretty likely that there’s already an Ashton Miller.”

“Huh. Then maybe something from the radio show? Something Grace would say?”

“Like SuchAnAsh?” Megan offered.

“Yeah. Like that.”

Megan picked up her phone and started typing. “It’s taken.”

“Seriously? Then something that isn’t taken, then. I don’t care.”

“Mmm-hmmmm.” Megan typed away on his phone for about two minutes before sharing the screen with him. “For time’s sake I made your username UncleAsh, which is totally creepy to anyone but me, by the way. You can change it to any other unused name at any time, though. But do it quick. Once your station publicizes the name, people will be looking for it.”