“That’s an amazing way to explain it. Why didn’t I think of that? I get too focused on the details, and it gets too technical. Not effective for speeches.”

“Your speeches are great. It’s just this issue, it’s already complicated, it’s easy to miss the forest for the trees.” Yash’s plan was seventy pages long. “And you’re passionate about it, mostly the public just wants to see the passion and know that there are viable details that are turning you on.” Rico smiled because, honestly, the details totally turned him on too. “Even if you just showed them the passion and stayed on message about reducing cost and supplying funding, I think they’d trust you with the rest.”

“You want to read through the rest of my policies and come up with bite-sized spins for those as well?”

Rico already had.

Ashna looked even more like she was going to hurl, so saying that was pretty much out of the question. “Come on, anyone can do that.” Which didn’t mean he didn’t want to be the one to do it.

The idea of helping Yash made Rico’s heart beat in that primal way it beat when he ran out to the pitch. Something he hadn’t ever expected to feel again.

“You were the face of your team for a reason, I see.”

He tried to avoid Ashna’s perceptive gaze. She looked distraught at what she saw. “A sports team is a PR nightmare waiting to happen. Especially today with the direct spotlight of social media. All the shit blokes pull, believing they can get away with it because their success makes them invincible, it’s all out in the open now.”

“And no one’s buying the Boys Will Be Boys Kool-Aid anymore,” Ashna said.

“Right,” Rico said, meeting her eyes. “About time.”

“Exactly,” Yash said. “But you kept them looking squeaky clean for almost a decade, and their image was quite a horror when you came in.”

“Thanks. It’s all about understanding and respecting the public’s interest in you. They want something from you all the time: either you feed them or they come after you for it.”