I knew going into this that the biggest challenge was going to be Quinton not feeling like I’m on his team. I mean, I am being paid by someone who wants him to stop doing something that’s very important. So him including me in this, no matter how minor it may seem, is a giant step to this plan succeeding.

“First, don’t go on Twitter or any other social media platform from now on. That’s my job. I will schedule posts for you if you want to keep a presence online. The last thing you need is to get caught up with online trolls.” I’ve spent enough time on social media trying to gauge people’s reactions to him to last a freaking lifetime. I doubt he wants to see all of the “spoiled millionaire complaining over nothing, why don’t we send him overseas and see if he can respect the flag then” and the #ShutUpAndPlay tweets. People also seemed to forget that he led a team to the championship. Way too many people were saying he sucks and isn’t worth the trouble. “But yes, it is possible. I know it sounds difficult and it can be. But there are things we can do to keep the focus where we want it to be. Big companies do it all the time.”

“Big companies? Like the one we both work for.”

Oops.

And just like that, we’re back to square one.

“Yes, just like the company we work for.” I don’t even try to mask the truth; that will only cause his distrust for me to grow. “But lucky for you, you’re the one in charge of this. You control the narrative and can pretty much demand that they support you.”

Fuck. Loose lips again. That was probably not the best thing to tell him. But it’s true. And maybe if he can realize the power he has here, he can focus on finding another way to express his feelings.

And let me help.

He nods his head—that hopefully isn’t getting even bigger from his newly held power—so I continue. “From there, we’ll want to appoint your board, create bylaws, and then the fun part: setting up funding guidelines and picking the first organizations you’ll fund.”

“That all sounds really good. I did some research last night into foundations and what was needed to get started.” He pushes his chair back and opens the drawer to his desk. Pulling out a spiral notebook, he eyes me as if he’s still deciding whether or not he should trust me. Then I guess he decides he does because he opens the notebook and hands it to me. “I listed out some potential members for the board, some ideas on what I want the mission statement to say, and a few organizations I think would benefit from funding.”