Sparks Like Ours

by Melissa Brayden

  Gwendolyn wasn’t done. “Some sort of new spicy corn chip company with tons of venture capital dollars to help put them on the map, and do you see that guy?” She pointed with her eyebrows, which was, c’mon, impressive. “That’s Theo Trowebridge, their marketing guru. Make nice with him. He has money to spend.”

  “Got it.” Gia nodded and sipped her sparkling water. No alcohol for her tonight. She’d noticed a dip in her timed sprints that she should remedy.

  “You look stunning, by the way,” Gwendolyn said. “Fantastic look.”

  Gia laughed. “Thank you, my friend helped dress me, but don’t I pay you to say that?”

  “Last I looked it wasn’t in my job description, but it’s true, sweetheart.” Gwendolyn was a good fifteen years older than Gia and had taken on the maternal older sister role in her life.

  “Well then, I will tell my personal stylist.” In other words, she’d high-five Hadley, who had come through as always, putting together slim black pants with a flowing white top that showed off the physique she worked so hard on. She’d pulled her hair back and let it fall to her shoulders, which Hadley said was a softer look for her.

  “Well, son of a bitch,” Gwendolyn said in a huff.

  Gia swiveled and followed her eye line to see Elle Britton chatting up the corn chip guy. She had to laugh. Of course Elle would already be in the know and two steps ahead of Gia, sparkling like the crown jewel. Gia watched as she laughed along with that Theo guy, touching his forearm briefly and nodding along with whatever he was saying. If there was a networking playbook, Elle had surely worn it out cover to cover, if she hadn’t written the damned thing herself.

  Gwendolyn gave her a shove. “We gotta get you over there.”

  Gia balked as they moved toward Elle and Theo. “Why?” she hissed.

  “Because you never know when you’re going to need additional sponsorship, and a juicy, plump endorsement deal wouldn’t hurt your portfolio. You don’t have enough of ’em. Now, get over there and play in the sandbox.”

  She hated the reality, but Gwendolyn had a point. Given her high ranking on the tour, she really should be pulling in more from external sources. She tended to shy away from those opportunities unless pushed. “All right. All right. I’ll talk to him.” She glanced back at Gwendolyn. “You’re a bulldog.”

  Gwendolyn growled in response. It frightened her. She gave herself a quick shake and brightened into a smile.

  “Well, if it isn’t the rankings climber herself,” Theo said as she approached them. He shook her hand heartily. “Gia Malone, your name’s all over the place these days. Theo Trowebridge, marketing director for Trainers. Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise. I’m a fan of your product.” A stretch. Corn chips were corn chips. Apparently, Trainers were a healthy alternative to the stuff already on the market. That’s about all she knew.

  Elle grinned at Gia like they were best friends, but then she did that with everyone. “How are you tonight, Gia?”

  “It’s a good night. And you?”

  “I’m having a fantastic time. Everyone looks great.” Well, no one really came close to Elle. Her hair was down and a little wavy tonight in an understated, glamorous kind of way. She wore a patterned skirt and a sleeveless top that really brought out the blue of her eyes. Not that Gia had noticed. Though the men in the room sure seemed to, stealing not-so-discreet glances at Elle’s legs as they passed. The world was a virtual meat market.

  “Wait,” Theo said, glancing between the two of them. “Have you two seen each other since Fiji and the big final?”

  “Not since Fiji, no,” Elle said sweetly.

  His eyes widened. “So, this might be a little awkward. I read about the controversy.” He made a face that said yikes.

  Gia held her smile. Tried to. “I don’t think there was anything too controversial about that final.”

  He seemed thoughtful. “Lot of folks thought there might be an interference call on that last wave of Elle’s you dropped in on.”

  “I didn’t drop in. I wasn’t anywhere near Elle,” Gia told him calmly. “I think she would agree that she had every opportunity to capitalize on that wave outside of any interference from me.”

  Elle held her thumb and forefinger close together. “You were a little close.”

  “That’s not what you said at the press conference afterward.” Gia felt her defenses flare, though she would hold that damn smile if it killed her.

  “Well, that was neither the time or place. Did you take some liberty on that drop-in? Yes. But those press events should be more about the love of the sport.” If there had been popcorn nearby, Theo would have grabbed a bowl as he listened in fascinated amusement. This was probably not what Gwendolyn had had in mind.

  “I guess I try to be up front and honest with whoever I’m speaking with.”

  Elle’s perfect smile faltered. “Why have you decided that I’m disingenuous?”

  “You kind of just said so.”

  Theo’s head swiveled to Elle for her response, and Gia inwardly cringed. She was behaving badly in front of a potential networking mark.

  Elle scoffed uncharacteristically. It was nice to know she was capable. “You know what? Never mind.”

  Theo held up a hand. “I’m sensing some hostility.”

  “Not at all,” Elle said, brightening, probably remembering where she was. “Just some post-tournament playback. Gia and I have always had a healthy, if not competition-laced, respect for each other. Right?”

  Gia shrugged. “Sure.” And then thought better and amended that. “Yes. We have.”

  “Just what I was hoping you’d say. I have a proposition for you both.”

  Gia and Elle exchanged an uneasy glance. For the two of them? “And what would that be?” Elle asked.

  “A Trainers campaign featuring the two of you. Highlighting the rivalry in the water and out. You’d be joint spokespersons, and the stars of our campaign.”

  “There’s no rivalry,” Elle said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

  Theo raised an eyebrow. “I beg to differ, and so do most surf fans. But even the people who have no clue who you are will love the spots we’ll put together for you.”

  Gia was skeptical. “So, you’re proposing an ad campaign based on—”

  “The race for number one,” Theo supplied. “Who’s going to end up with the top ranking by the time this season closes out?”

  Gia could tell from Elle’s understated smirk that she didn’t really think the ranking was up for grabs. Gia knew differently. If she could turn in just a handful of successful tournament showings and take Elle down another time or two, she’d have the points. It wouldn’t be easy, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. She was currently two in the world. World champion was within her grasp, and she was making steady progress. Apparently, others had noticed.

  Elle paused and adjusted a strand of hair off her cheek. “It’s an intriguing proposition.”

  And would you look at that? Theo ran with the encouragement, looking like a dog with a giant, meat-filled bone. He stepped forward, energized. “I see commercials, magazine ads, billboards, all cleverly put together and all showcasing Trainers. Listen, the chips are about a healthier snack option, and what sport showcases athleticism and the human physique the way surfing does?”

  Gwendolyn would kill her if she balked. “I guess I’m with Elle. Sounds cool, but maybe we can get a few more details to fully understand where you’re headed?”

  He nodded. “I’ll draw up a formal proposal and send it over to your people.” He pointed at each of them. “This could be a really fantastic partnership.”

  “I, for one, hope so,” Elle said.

  “Me, too,” Gia lied.

  “I’ll leave you to your bickering, then,” he said, eyes dancing, as if he’d just located his own personal pot of gold. “And please, whatever you do, keep it up.”

  Once they were alone, Elle turned to her. “If we do this, w
e have to pinkie promise each other that we’ll keep it classy.”

  Gia turned her face and regarded Elle out of the side of her eye. “Did you just say the words pinkie promise?”

  “Is that too pedestrian for you?”

  “It’s too sixth grade for me.”

  Elle sighed. “Fine. Blood oath at midnight it is. Whatever works for you. The point here is that this campaign could be a really good thing for both of us, if it’s done right.”

  “Agreed. I want it to be just as tasteful as you do.”

  “As tasteful as you dropping in on that wave?”

  Gia smiled. It was a good barb. Points for Elle. “Something like that.”

  Elle pushed a fist into Gia’s shoulder as she walked away. “Train hard. Just know I’m training harder.”

  “Bet on it.” Wait. That came out wrong. “Bet that you’re wrong!” she called lamely to Elle’s retreating form. Instead of turning back, she offered Gia a wave of her fingers over her shoulder. Damn that woman. How did she always seem to come away with the upper hand? Gia blinked after Elle and watched as a waiter did a double take as she passed, his eyes zeroing in on her ass, her long, tanned legs. Gia shook her head at him, not at all noticing them herself.

  Deep breath.

  Not at all.

  Sometimes she really hated herself.

  * * *

  Gia sat on a green cushioned couch in the outdoor seating area at Seven Shores while she looked over the Trainers paperwork Gwendolyn had sent over. It was late in the day, and the loss of the sun overhead left the air chilly. Gia didn’t mind. For whatever reason, the window from late afternoon until dusk was Gia’s favorite time of the day. It made her feel like something exciting lay in store as evening encroached.

  The contract looked fine to her. In fact, it was a damn good offer, and with Gwendolyn’s stamp of approval, and her attorney’s, she was ready to sign. The i’s had all been dotted and the t’s had all been crossed. She tried not to think in depth about the fact that she would actually be working on this campaign with Elle. At least she would be paid a hell of a lot of money to do it.

  “Oh! Is that the chip contract?” Autumn asked, joining her. She’d taken to working shorter days at Pajamas since the pregnancy and dropped her apron on the chair next to the one she’d plopped down in.

  “Yeah, I guess we’re a go.”

  “I have to buy them now.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Do, too.” Autumn ran her hand through her springy red curls as if to bring life back to them after a long day. “Understand something. If Gia Malone says I should eat these chips, I’m going to eat ’em.”

  Gia laughed. “I had no idea I had that kind of power. Gia Malone also thinks you should give her free coffee for the rest of time.”

  “Strangely, that one didn’t work as well,” Autumn said seriously, and then moved right along. “This means you and Elle, your number one rival, will grace the screen together.”

  Gia sighed. “Apparently.”

  Autumn raised an eyebrow. “Competition be damned. She’s hot. You guys will look great together. That marketing guy is no idiot.”

  “She is not hot,” Gia said, and felt the lie burn her tongue.

  “Okay, if you say so. Except she is.”

  Gia let it go.

  “So, when was the last time you got laid anyway?” Autumn asked.

  Gia stared at her, water bottle stalled midway to her lips. “What kind of segue is that?”

  “On reflection, it feels like an effective one,” Autumn said. “We were talking about a hot girl and now we’re talking about what one does with hot girls. So, dish. Laid. When? Go.”

  “I don’t know.” Gia shrugged. “There was a girl a few months back at a tournament in Hawaii. A local. Just a one-night thing.”

  “A groupie? You’re doing it with groupies now? That’s a thing?”

  “No,” Gia said, figuring out how to explain. “It’s not a thing at all. It was a drunken, celebratory mistake after a big win, but you asked, and I don’t lie.”

  Autumn grinned. “I got laid this morning.”

  Gia sat back against the couch with a laugh. “Aha. This was just a front for you to gloat. Isabel would call this sex-gloating.”

  “And sex-gloat I shall. It was glorious, G.” Autumn’s eyes lit up and she shook her head as if the mere mention transported her back in time. “There were stars and rainbows. Glitter fell from the heavens.”

  Gia shook her head in appreciation. “Maybe Kate deserves a medal for more than just firefighting.”

  “Good God, that woman does things to me. And with the pregnancy hormones hitting, let’s just say it’s happening a lot more often. Speaking of which, I’m feeling a little tired. Might head inside.”

  “I see straight through you, Carpenter.”

  Autumn grinned. “Yet I feel no shame.”

  Gia watched as her friend made the short trek to the apartment she shared with Kate on the bottom floor. The same apartment that had led to their meeting the year prior. There was a cosmic justice in that, Gia decided. It was also nice to have Autumn living so close by.

  “Hey, is that the contract?”

  Gia glanced at the gates to see Isabel enter the courtyard, hand in hand with Taylor.

  “Yep, they want to get started right away.”

  “For the corn chips, right?” Taylor asked. “They’re not bad. I gave them a try.”

  “I’ll take not bad. What are you two up to?”

  “Just here to grab some clothes. I’ll be at Taylor’s for the next few days, since it’s closer to work and we’ll be pulling some long hours. Fat Tony is coming, too.”

  “Cool.” Isabel’s cat, Fat Tony, had slowly become the hateful little mascot of Seven Shores. They took turns feeding and tending to him on weekends when Isabel spent her days and nights at Taylor’s. When it was Gia’s turn, she’d stay an hour or two and play hide-and-seek with the moody cat, allowing him to leap out from under the couch and attack her feet. She feigned surprise for his benefit, but let’s be honest, he was fooling no one. As far as Isabel and Taylor went, Gia wondered why the two of them didn’t just bite the bullet and move in together already. They seemed adamant about not rushing but were so insanely in love, she didn’t really get the point. To each their own, her mom always said.

  “Do you know she has her own calendar?” Taylor asked. “The other surfer, Elle Britton.”

  Gia nodded. “I’ve heard that somewhere.” She’d heard it everywhere. They sold that calendar at vendor stands at the tournaments. Those things flew off the shelves and people lined up in droves for Elle to sign them. Some of the photos had her in action, shredding like she was born to do it. Other months were a little more…sexy in nature. Elle in a swimsuit, simply holding her board. She’d thumbed through it once or twice, purely out of curiosity.

  “How did you come across an Elle Britton calendar?” Isabel asked, scratching her head.

  Taylor scoffed. “One of my writers used to have it pinned to their cubicle at work.”

  Isabel turned to her, amusement plastered all over her face. “And you just happened to notice one day as you breezed through? ‘Oh, would you look at that! A hot girl in a bathing suit!’”

  “Not hot,” Gia supplied.

  They ignored her.

  Taylor held up both hands. “I will completely admit to finding those shots…motivating.”

  Isabel laughed. “That motivation is causing you to blush. Oh! And it’s spreading. This could get embarrassing. Look out, everyone.”

  “You’re awful,” Taylor said, now the impressive shade of a tomato.

  “Of course I am. I don’t have my own calendar or anything. Not even a desk version.”

  “There’s always Christmas,” Taylor said innocently. “I’ll need something under the tree. I don’t think you even need the swimsuit.”

  Isabel’s mouth fell open. “And now I’m blushing. Perfect.” She shook her head. “
I think posing naked might be a little beyond me.”

  Taylor smiled. “Not if memory serves.”

  Gia held up a hand. “You guys get that I’m sitting here, right?”

  Isabel laughed. “My fault. C’mon, let’s get my stuff,” she said to Taylor. “G, you’re in charge of the complex until I get back. No loud parties, understand? Larry Herman rule.”

  “On it.”

  Gia rolled her shoulders, wondering what was in the air that had her friends all sexed up. If there was time to be jealous, or the smallest burst of energy available, she would have been.

  “Oh, wow! Is that it? Is that the contract?”

  Gia stared hard at Hadley as she approached, keys jangling from her hand. Her hair was swept up in that posh way she did it for work in some sort of blond twist. Her designer clothes only confirmed where she’d been. “You guys planned this? Isabel put you up to this, didn’t she?”

  “Planned what?” Hadley asked.

  “To all open with the exact same sentence? It’s like Groundhog Day.”

  Hadley shrugged, dismissing it. “It’s cuz we all live together. Mind meld. It’s real. Now, is that the contract we’ve been waiting on?”

  “It’s the contract.”

  Hadley stared in awe. “Can I hold it?” she whispered.

  Gia passed the stack of papers her way. “You’re so weird.”

  “I’m reverent.” Hadley held the contract to her chest as if to soak it in, swaying slightly as if backed by a choir. “There’s a difference, and this contract is huge for you, which makes me extra happy. Next level stuff, Gia. I’m proud of you. You should be proud of you, too.”

  Hearing Hadley gush made it hard to hide her own smile, because Had was right. This was the kind of exposure she’d been looking for, and with exposure came opportunity, and those were the kinds of things that kept a career afloat and tournament fees covered into the future. Leave it to Hadley to remind her of life’s little business truths. “Yeah, well, sometimes I get caught up and forget to celebrate the small victories.”

  “Not small. Huge. This is a huge victory.”