The Ultimatum

Summer

"Absolutely not."

Summer stood up so fast her chair scraped loudly against the linoleum floor of Professor Harrison’s office.

“With all due respect, Ms. Sterling, I am a journalist. I have spent the last three years writing investigative pieces for the campus paper about the unchecked privilege of the athletic department. Jaxson Reed is a violent liability. I won't be used as a prop to clean up his mess."

Sarah Sterling didn't even blink.

She casually leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs.

“I’ve read your articles, Summer. That’s exactly why I want you. If we cast a sorority girl who swoons every time Reed looks her way, the audience will see right through it. It looks like a PR stunt. But you? You look at him like he’s something you want to wipe off the bottom of your shoe. That’s tension. That’s television gold."

"It’s dishonest," Summer countered, her chest heaving. "It’s a lie."

"It's a contract," Sarah corrected her smoothly.

She pulled a thick, document sealed folder from her designer bag and placed it on the desk between them.

“Let’s talk numbers, because Professor Harrison tells me you’re about to be dropped from the university roster due to non-payment."

Summer stiffened.

She shot a glare at her professor, who looked away with a guilty expression.

"Summer, be realistic," Professor Harrison said softly.

“The journalism industry is brutal. Millions of graduates compete for unpaid internships. HypeTV is offering you a direct pipeline to a major network network anchor track, on top of clearing your debt. You can use this experience to understand the business from the inside."

"By selling my soul?" Summer whispered.

"By playing a character," Sarah Sterling said, tapping the folder.

“Here are the terms. Twelve weeks of filming. You will attend all home hockey games, sit in the family box, and accompany Jaxson to three high profile charity galas. You will participate in up to four scripted 'date' segments per month for the show. In exchange, HypeTV writes a check directly to the university bursar's office tomorrow morning covering your remaining balance. Upon completion of the season, you receive a $20,000 stipend and a signed contract for an assistant producer role at our NYC studio."

Twenty thousand dollars.

Her tuition cleared.

Her future secured.

Summer looked down at her worn sneakers.

She thought about her mom, who was currently working double shifts at a grocery store to help pay for her younger brother’s braces.

She thought about her dad’s tired, broken expression when he told her he couldn't help her with school anymore.

If she refused this, she would be packing her bags by the weekend.

Her dreams of becoming a network reporter would die before they even started.

"What are the boundaries?" Summer asked, her voice trembling slightly. "With... with Reed."

"The contract explicitly states no forced physical intimacy beyond public displays of affection deemed necessary for the narrative—holding hands, a hug, a casual kiss for the cameras," Sarah said.

“We aren't producing an adult film, Summer. We are producing a romance. You two don't even have to like each other when the cameras are off. In fact, we prefer if you keep your distance so the on-camera chemistry stays fresh."

Summer closed her eyes.

She felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to take a leap into a dark, volatile canyon.

"I want a clause," Summer said, opening her eyes and looking directly into Sarah’s calculating gaze.

“I want full editorial control over any personal video diaries I record for the show. And I want it in writing that my name will not be associated with any PR defenses of his alleged assault. I am his girlfriend for the show, but I am not his legal defense team."

Sarah’s smile widened.

“Done. We’ll have the revised contracts ready for signatures at five o'clock in the athletic center VIP lounge. Your co-star will be waiting."

Co-star. The word tasted bitter.

Summer nodded slowly, her hand shaking as she reached out to touch the edge of the folder.

She had just sold her final semester to the devil, and his name was Jaxson Reed.