Public Relations, page 1
PUBLIC RELATIONS
NICOLE S. GOODIN
Public Relations
Published by Nicole S. Goodin
Digital edition
ISBN: 978-0-473-69514-9
Copyright 2023 by Nicole S. Goodin
All rights reserved. ©
This ebook is for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your favourite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
First published December 2023
All rights reserved. ©
Cover design by Nicole Goodin
Custom illustration by Karla Christiansen @karla__creates
Cover design by Nicole Goodin
Editing by Spell Bound
Created with Vellum
CONTENTS
Disclaimer
Author’s Note
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Thank you!
Also By
Playlist
About the Author
Upcoming titles by Nicole S. Goodin
DISCLAIMER
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, places, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental, if not a little inspired.
The author acknowledges all song titles, song lyrics, film titles, film characters, trademarked statuses and brands mentioned in this book are the property of, and belong to, their respective owners.
Nicole Goodin is in no way affiliated with any of the brands, songs, musicians or artists mentioned in this book.
For everyone who has been inspired by love.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This book has been written using UK English and may contain euphemisms and slang words that form part of the New Zealand spoken word.
Please remember that the words are not misspelled. They are slang terms and form part of everyday, New Zealand vernacular.
I.e: I’m from New Zealand and sometimes we say weird things down here… please try and be cool about it.
PROLOGUE
Elly
I’d love to organise a public execution for the moron who thought it was smart to stage the PR stunt to end all other PR stunts.
The most famous pop singer in the world and the golden boy of the NBA.
Two of the biggest names on the planet coming together, two totally different worlds colliding with a bang that is being heard in nearly every corner of the globe.
A love story for the ages, and an absolute circus for a public relations executive.
The brain behind this operation deserves to be strung up by their balls.
Only problem is, she doesn’t have balls, and if I really were to point the finger, I’d have to do it in the mirror, because the person responsible for making my life one hundred million times harder, is me.
This was all my idea.
I’m a genius, the best of the best at my job, and I have a feeling I’m going to wind up hating myself for it.
CHAPTER
ONE
Elly
“No, Morgan won’t be taking any interviews on this subject.”
I don’t even bother with the pleasantries of saying goodbye, I just end the call and wait for the next one to come, because it will. Oh god it will. The phone hasn’t stopped ringing for more than about thirty seconds all day.
Everyone is desperate for the exclusive on this story.
International pop singer Morgan Rhodes sits courtside at legend Tom Daniels’ game last night.
It’s all anyone can talk about.
I swear most people are more invested in this love story than they are in their own relationships.
Her being spotted there alongside the wives and girlfriends of the team in the VIP suite has sent social media into an absolute spiral. Her sitting courtside is another level entirely. TikToks with millions and millions of views, merch and ticket sales through the roof… the chatter is crazy. The frenzy is real.
The world loves them, both individually and even more together.
The fans are saying this is it, after all the heartbreak, that he’s the one for our girl Morgan. No more break-up ballads. They’re pretty much planning the wedding already.
I knew this was going to blow up, but even I had no idea just how out of hand it would get.
Talk about zero to one hundred. More like one hundred million.
We’ve left the fans following a very subtle trail of crumbs for a few weeks now, and while there was speculation something was coming, even the most onto it fans didn’t expect a launch quite this hard.
An in-person, game day, courtside appearance was straight A up the guts, full force, little warning and absolutely no lube, kind of hard launch.
The phone rings again, but I ignore it this time, rubbing my temples instead until the noise stops. I haven’t got another ‘no comment’ in me right now.
I wonder if Walker has his hands as full as I do.
Walker Brooks is Tom’s PR manager. He’s also his brother. And he’s also a gigantic pain in my ass.
It’s my bad really. If I’d known that Tom Daniels came hand in hand with what has to be the cockiest human on the face of the planet, I might have thought twice about this plan.
It’s too late now though. We’re in this together for as long as it takes.
Tom and Morgan are set to play the long game, and while I don’t really care too much about Tom’s reputation and feelings, I do care about Morgan’s. She might technically be my client, but she’s also one of my closest friends, and I won’t see her dragged through the mud again so soon after her last break up.
That’s the last thing I want to see happen. It’s a big part of why we’re here.
This whole thing started when Tom and some of his friends showed up in a VIP tent at one of Morgan’s shows on her current tour.
He’s a big name in sports, an even bigger man in person, and with all due respect, he’s off-the-charts hot.
The Rhode Runners noticed.
The world noticed.
You can’t look like that, dance and sing along like that, and not get noticed.
The fact that he had a huge sign asking her out on a date raised above his head for half the show, certainly didn’t do anything to die down the hype.
A few phone calls, endless endorsement deals, airtight contracts later, and here we are. As far as the world is concerned, they’ve just launched their budding relationship to the world.
It doesn’t matter that it’s all fake.
It doesn’t matter that it’s all about money and marketing.
It doesn’t matter that this was specifically engineered to shift focus from one thing to another.
The fans believe what they want to believe. They believe what I want them to believe.
And right now, they’re eating out of the palm of my hand.
All those viral videos where the events match up perfectly with themes and lyrics from Morgan’s songs… not so coincidental.
I guess I have to give some of the credit to Walker, he and his team came up with a lot of it, and it’s a lot more romantic than I would have thought they’d be willing to get. For a slick NBA player, Tom pulls off sweet and dreamy much better than I expected.
It’s all a stroke of genius. I’d hate to have to admit that to Walker. The last thing he needs is praise. He thinks enough of himself as it is.
The guy is a nightmare. Sexy as hell, and he knows it all too well. Like his brother, he’s tall, built, handsome and charismatic. Unlike Tom, Walker is also pushy, arrogant and overly confident.
Six months to a year, I remind myself.
I can put up with anything for a year.
Things will die down in a month or two, and I might be able to breathe again. For now, I can remain professional and do my job. It’ll make one of us.
My phone rings again, and I resist the urge to throw it over the balcony of my twentieth-floor apartment.
It’s lucky I don’t, because it’s Morgan calling this time.
Finally, someone I can actually have a real conversation with without wanting to rip my hair out of my scalp.
I feel my headache ease as I hit the answer button.
“Well hello, future Mrs. Daniels, how is the happy couple this morning?”
Her soft laugh tinkles down the phone. “Morgan Daniels doesn’t have the worst ring to it. I can picture it on the front of the next album.”
I lift open my laptop and look at the follower count for Morgan’s Instagram. We’re up one hundred thousand in just one day. I flick to Tom’s. His has grown by over four hundred thousand now.
The power of this fandom is insane. She’s got the most dedicated following I think I’ve ever seen. They’ve seen she’s excited about him and they’re excited too.
“So, how was it?” I ask her.
“Crazy,” she breathes. “I still don’t know how word gets out so quickly, but the fans were everywhere after the game. We snuck out the back.”
I already know all this, of course, but I let her tell me anyway. Sometimes I think she forgets that even when I’m not there, I’m everywhere. I co-ordinated the viral clip of the two of them sneaking out the back of the arena, not that they probably needed instruction.
“I didn’t know he could drive a motorcycle. It was pretty cool.”
“It suits him,” I agree. “That was their idea.”
“It was a good one.” She sounds impressed.
I am too, if I’m honest. The bike was a nice touch by the boys. Those video clips have fitted perfectly with her song Escape Route, where she sings about taking off on the back of some guy’s bike. It’s like handing the fans content on a silver platter.
The whole thing is a stroke of genius. Perfection. They’re trending everywhere.
Ten out of ten, if I do say so myself. The followers are eating it up.
“And the after party?”
“So much fun. I thought some of those women would have been bitchy as, since they were friends with his ex and everything, but they were all so nice. I had a few drinks, we danced. He’s funny. You did good with him.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d say she had a little crush.
Maybe if her last boyfriend hadn’t ripped her heart clean out of her chest eight months ago, I might believe it.
Poor bitch has only just started to recover from that. It was brutal, the worst one so far, and that’s really saying something. It resulted in a great album though.
I never liked that guy, but at least he was good for something.
“Your fans are in love,” I tell her.
She giggles again, and I frown. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her giggle like such a girl before. Interesting.
“He did make a three pointer in the last few seconds to win the game,” she brags.
It’s really going to help that she’s such a basketball fan. This would have been a real tough gig if she had to feign enthusiasm for a bunch of guys throwing a ball around a court. It’s so genuine though. It feels authentic because it is.
The Bears are two-time NBA champs, and on track to make it a third. Tom was part of the team that won last season, and he’s desperate to make it a back-to-back double.
“I saw. It was a hell of a shot.”
I hear chatter in the background around her. I try to listen, but I can’t make out whose voice it is.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at Tom’s hotel. Zayn and his wife are coming over for breakfast.”
Talk about committing to the bit.
I don’t quite know what to make of that, but she’s a nearly thirty-year-old woman, if she wants to sleepover at her fake boyfriend’s hotel room, then she can have at it. They’ll be doing a stellar job of convincing those closest to him that they’re the real deal, if nothing else.
I don’t think it’ll be hard to make anyone believe it.
They’re kind of on the same vibe. I could see them being good friends. I hope they can be when this is all said and done.
“You did good. Enjoy your breakfast and give me a call later today when you’re home. We’ll talk over the scope of the next week. Shall I get tickets for the home game?”
“Ooh yes, can you try and get me like half a dozen? I talked to Cam and Liv, and I think Adam and Jones want to come with as well.”
She’s bringing out the big guns. Next thing she’ll be cuddling up to Tom’s ma.
“Sure thing. Should I just get five then?”
“And one for you.”
“Me?”
“Yes you. You’re coming too. It’s so fun. You’ll love it. You’re taking the day off and we’re going to have fun. We’ll stay in the suite this time.”
“Morgs, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
Me and fun don’t really belong in the same room anymore.
“Fine then, you’re working that day, and I need you to come to the game to make sure I’m not messing things up.”
I roll my eyes. She’s something else.
“You know, I can feel it, I’m going to say something silly to the wrong person. Maybe I might get really drunk again and dance badly. The media loves that,” she carries on.
“Fine. I’ll come. You don’t need to threaten me.”
She laughs. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”
The last time she promised me a fun night out, we ended up absolutely hammered, doing a runner from her security – that I personally hired – to sneak into a McDonalds for a cheeseburger. I don’t know where the logic went that night, but it sure as hell wasn’t with us.
We got swamped by fans. Never did get that cheeseburger.
“If you say so. I’ll send a car for you in about an hour? He can wait until you’re ready to head to the airport.”
She’ll already have three members of her personal security close by – they go wherever she does, and they have their own vehicle, but she doesn’t like riding with them. She thinks it makes her feel like someone is going to come at her with a bomb or something.
“Thank you, Elly.” She says it like she’s thanking her mother.
“Just doing my job.”
“You’re doing amazing, sweetie.”
I laugh at the reference. It’s been too long since we had a Kardashian binge.
“Talk to you later,” I tell her.
“See ya, love you, bye,” she replies cheerily.
I end the call and see I missed four calls during that short conversation. Far out. I can’t even keep up. I put it on do not disturb, just for a while. It’s not life and death. It’s just gossip and money. The world will keep spinning if they don’t get the tea.
It’s only going to get worse once she turns up to the next game. People are still speculating to a certain extent, but a reappearance will confirm it. Some people think she was just there because he openly told her that she’d have to come see him rock a sold-out crowd the same way he watched her, others are convinced they’re just toying with the media.
But she’ll be back, and they’re only going to get more and more comfortable in front of the camera. The league is eating it up.
He’s the most eligible bachelor in the NBA and she’s possibly the most famous person on the planet right now. Heads are going to roll. It’s going to blow the roof off the place.
There’s already talk of his bitch of an ex doing an exclusive tell-all interview. I don’t know what she thinks she’s going to tell; the guy seems like an open book, unless he’s got some weird kink fetish.
I’d be willing to bet there’s not a single thought that crosses his mind that doesn’t immediately come out of his mouth.
What you see is what you get with Tom Daniels, and I think half the women in the world would be more than happy to get what you see when you look at him.
The guy is gorgeous.
It amuses me how quickly these things move though. He’s a multi-millionaire, he’s a legend of the game, easily one of the best shooting guards to ever grace the court. He’s a big deal on his own merit, but throw him together with someone like Morgan, and suddenly the money grabbers appear like magic.
