Art Heaux

Stroke Eight

"You need a better social media presence," Damita offered, scrolling through Spencer's Instagram feed. "The mystery is great but it can come off as unrelatable real quick. You need some type of personality on here that doesn't get too personal but personal enough to make you appealing."

Spencer hired Damita to help with his Public Relations and social media. They met in college and had a small fling before deciding to just remain friends. She was one of the premiere Public Relation representatives in Los Angeles. Most of the athletes she represented appeared more personable and she was a lifesaver in public relation nightmares. Spencer trusted her to help him with his image with all of this being new to him.

"So you want me to put more of my personal life on my social media? You know I like to protect that part of me, D," Spencer argued. "There's gotta be another way to do that right? That's what you're getting paid for...to be creative."

"Oop, boy, I'll let you slide on that one. But you didn't even let me explain before you decided to be a smart ass. I say you do a giveaway or something. We can do a signed jersey or football to help you connect with the fans," Damita suggested, typing away on her laptop. "Before you leave, we need to schedule an IG Live."

"Whoa, slow down. What's the IG Live for? You doing a lot of planning and we've barely talked about any of this," Spencer continued, rummaging his fridge for a post workout snack.

"You hired me to help your image," she shot back, peering over the screen of her laptop. "I know all you care about is the balling part but your image is what carries your career after you're too old to run 30 yards without breaking a hip. You're doing the IG Live. Make sure you look pretty and we'll be on at 5pm. I'll go ahead and have Dionne post about it on your socials."

Damita didn't give Spencer a chance to respond before she was on another call and stepping out onto the balcony. He loved his team, even when they stressed him out. His entire team consisted of black women who had his best interests at heart. With Damita's help, he was introduced to other successful black women working in the world of sports that formed the remaining parts of his dream team. Before he could even blink, Dionne had already posted about his upcoming IG Live.

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The Los Angeles sun beat down on Olivia's skin as she sat outside of the smoothie shop. She went back and forth on whether she would simply refund Scottie his money and tell him he wasn't allowed to have a piece of her art or having Jordan make the delivery for her. Not wanting to ruin her reputation and business before she got it on its feet, she decided to meet with him in a public place for the exchange. She even offered to mail it to his home address but he insisted on picking it up himself. Olivia knew this was Scottie's way of having access to her again. Since their embarrassing breakup, she completely cut herself off from him. So her mother telling him that Olivia was now in Los Angeles was a bit of a nuisance.

As she waited, a notification from Instagram let her know Spencer was live. "Really," she mumbled, opening the application to make sure the football player had not been hacked. There he was, with the most uncomfortable smile on his face, holding up a football as if it was a foreign object. Spencer James wasn't a social media guy. When you met him, it was obvious. He was private, even though when fans came up to him in the streets, he was gracious and very personable.

Olivia loved that about him. His quiet yet confident demeanor made him more enjoyable to be around than the self-absorbed baseball player currently staring at her from the parking lot while he signed autographs. Suddenly her skin grew hot as her temper matched the blazing sun. Seeing Scottie in person ignited the embarrassment and anger she felt when they broke up. That sly grin he always wore went from being attractive to being one that frustrated her. He was grimy, even when he was attempting to be charming. Her nails tapped along the cardboard box that held the canvas.