Release Blitz incl Exclusive Excerpt: Lucas Malone – Hard Count: Book One of the Piper Ashton Saga

CHAPTER SIX
Los Angeles: Mid-September

Vivienne Cross arrived exactly ten minutes late.
Carmen Vale never got tired of being annoyed with Vivienne. Ten minutes was Vivienne’s signature act, not late enough for someone to leave, but late enough to establish that she was a bad bitch or so she thought. Carmen had known her for fourteen years, and Vivienne had never arrived first.
She slid into the seat across from Carmen at The Ivy like she was bothered to be there and had better things to be doing. Her Prada sunglasses stayed on just long enough to feel intentional before she removed them and placed them on the table. Carmen was more focused on her burger and fries than the show being put on by this woman who she couldn’t stand.
“Sorry,” Vivienne said. “Traffic.”
“Bitch, you live four blocks away. Eat something you look like the ghost of Karen Carpenter.”
Vivienne smiled faintly. “So I’m on the shot, so that’ll be a no for food. You know if I arrived early, you might think I was excited to see you.”
Carmen lifted her martini. “Facelift is finally settled, I see. Congrats. I was starting to worry.”
“Nice play, I see what you’re doing here with your jokes and your burger,” Vivienne said. “I don’t get facelifts. I get results.”
Vivienne’s smile widened just slightly. They had been doing this long enough that the insults had lost their edge but it still gave both of them life.
The waiter appeared with sparkling water. Vivienne waited until he left before speaking again.
“Your quarterback,” she said.
Carmen took a slow sip. “Your quarterback.”
Vivienne’s eyebrow lifted. Carmen slid her phone across the table. ESPN headline.
THE LEAGUE’S NEW RIVALRY: ASHTON VS. REYES.
Vivienne read it. Laughed softly. “Well.”
“Opening week of the season, and it’s official,” Carmen said. “That’s how long it took.”
“The league loves this shit and so does my bank account.”
Vivienne handed the phone back. “Nothing sells like two men in tights trying to destroy each other on field. It’s like a bunch of fucking buff Peter Pans prancing around acting manly.”
“Especially when they’re both beautiful.”
“That too.”
Vivienne leaned back, scanning the restaurant once, checking for any sports agents, but all she was getting was Hollywood pricks jerking each other off. Then she folded her hands. “They’re building a marketing narrative around the rivalry.”
“You saw the ratings for their first meeting.”
“Thirty fucking million watched.”
Vivienne slid a folder across the table. Carmen opened it. Her eyebrows rose by a few degrees. “Designer underwear?” Carmen asked.
“No expense is spared. Digital. Commercials. Billboards. Broadcast. Streaming. All the things, bitch,” Vivienne replied.
“Both of them?” Carmen asked.
“Both of them,” Vivienne replied with a sinister half smile.
Carmen was quiet for a moment, not reading. “They understand,” Vivienne said, her eyes narrowing. “That putting those two men in the same room with that much skin and fucking baby oil is going to generate a certain kind of attention. There will be a certain amount of backlash, but frankly, backlash sells outside of racist celebrity Tweets from 2014.”
“Bitch, this is dangerous as hell,” Carmen said, tensing up at the thought of all that could go wrong.
“The league will want credit for the demographics,” Vivienne said, clearly ignoring Carmen’s warning of impending doom.
“The league can have it,” Carmen interrupted.
Vivienne set the folder down. “I’ll need to speak with my Piper first,” Vivienne said.
“Of course.”
“He’s particular about his image,” Vivienne said with a wink.
Carmen smiled. “So is mine. He’ll do it anyway, he loves being naked on camera, remember how big his Sports Illustrated spread in the Body Issue was post-MVP?”
Vivienne looked at her steadily. “I sure do, Piper has refused that issue three times. He is such a fucking prude sometimes. You sound certain about Noah?”
“I know what Noah wants.”
“And what does Noah want?”
Carmen finished her martini. “Another shot at Piper Ashton.”
“Easy, bitch,” Vivienne replied, and then continued. “We are still 1-0 against each other.”
Vivienne considered that. Then she closed the folder and picked up the menu. The decision was made.
“Lord help us,” Vivienne said.
“Into the eye of the storm we go, two bitches, and their quarterbacks,” Carmen replied as she took a bite of her burger. Her eyes were fully rolled to the back of her head at that point.

***
Hollywood

Vivienne’s office had a view of the Hollywood sign and deliberately uncomfortable chairs, a combination that was intentional. Piper sat in one of them and kept his posture where it was, because giving Vivienne the satisfaction of watching him shift around wasn’t something he wanted to show his agent/manager combo.
She flipped the campaign proposal across the desk.
Piper barely caught it, and opened the first page.
“Oh, fuck no,” he said.
Vivienne leaned back. “Read it again.”