Page 5 of Just for the Cameras
When we enter, a balding man in a navy blue suit with an annoyingly cheery disposition greets us. His eyes light up with excitement as we approach—he’s clearly a fan despite our terrible reputations.
Gretchen clears her throat and says, “I would like you to meet Phil Foreman. He’s the VP of public relations at the zoo. We’ve spent a great deal of time on the phone and he can’t be more excited to have you three here, helping and bringing more awareness to the zoo. Phil, please meet Bennett, Oden, and Graydon.”
Phil steps forward and shakes our hands. I offer him a curt smile and try to erase the permanent scowl from my forehead.
“What an absolute pleasure to meet you,” Phil says as he clasps his hands together in front of him. “When Gretchen proposed the idea of having you come out and help around the zoo, I must say, I squealed in excitement.”
Squealed?
Who says—
“I might have squealed myself,” OC says, rocking on his heels. “Love animals.”
Oh, that’s who.
What a fucking kiss-ass. Jesus, and he thought we were going to be friends and commiserate? Not going to fucking happen.
“Then you’re in the right place,” Phil says. He turns to Gretchen and asks, “Have you informed them of what they’ll be doing?”
Gretchen shakes her head and smiles. “I thought I’d give you that honor.”
“Oh, wonderful. Well then, follow me.”
Follow him?
Why does this feel like a setup?
He leads us out of the building and straight into the main area of the zoo. I half expected a media session with cameras and a photo opportunity, but instead, he offers us a seat on a three-row golf cart.
Huh, maybe the media opportunity is somewhere else.
Since I’m the biggest guy here, I hop on the back of the golf cart on the rear-facing seat, only for OC to slide in right next to me.
“What the hell are you doing?” I snarl at him, trying to move my shoulder away from his.
“Catching a ride. Not going to fucking walk next to the golf cart.”
“Sit next to that Phil guy,” I reply, wanting to spread my goddamn legs.
“There’s a cooler up there.”
“Are we fighting?” Gretchen asks, turning around from where she’s seated next to Bennett.
“Nope,” I say as I try to move my body as close to my side as possible, but I feel like a sardine next to OC. The guy isn’t as big as me, but he’s still fucking huge, and I’m sure it’s a comical sight watching us try to fit into this golf cart together.
“Hold on,” Phil says as he starts the golf cart and pushes forward. “Whoa, this baby has probably never carried around this amount of muscle.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes as we move through the zoo, onlookers pointing as we drive by.
Camera phones point at us.
Visitors gawk.
And I can feel my defenses rising.
I’m already uncomfortable.
And it’s been five minutes.
