Fighting for Love

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© 2024 Dakota Quinn. All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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(Sinead)

“Next agenda item, marketing and public relations. Lee-Anne, you have the room,” I say, my eyes still glued to the agenda open on my laptop while my mind is already jumping to the last few conversations I had with my Director of Marketing and Public Relations. I’m dimly aware that she’s activated a PowerPoint presentation that is now displaying on the big screen in front of the board room table. There’s an excited hitch in her breathing that makes me look up.

“Overall, it’s pretty much business as usual across all fronts,” she begins, and I sense that she’s just rushing though this bit to get to whatever has her this excited. “Media coverage from across the globe is generally positive, so is customer sentiment and the food poisoning issue in Thailand has fizzled away by itself after the mother realized that she’d given her child food from a street vendor a few hours before the symptoms started.”

She flicks through different slides as she speaks, showing statistics and bar charts and a screenshot of the email conversation with the mother who claimed her kid got food poisoning from our resort in Thailand.

“There is one thing I would like to present to the executive committee, though – a new opportunity that I think we need to consider seriously.”

Ah, there it is. I sit back in my chair at the head of the table as my eyes flick towards the screen. The heading reads ‘UFC 632 – South Africa’.

As I give Lee-Anne a nod to proceed, she jumps straight in, her voice filled with enthusiasm. “We’ve been approached by the UFC organizers to potentially hold the round after next at Savannah City in South Africa. They’re going for a ‘rumble in the jungle’ kind of thing, and Savannah City would be the perfect setting.”

The moment she takes a breath, I take my opportunity to interrupt. “Wait, hold on. Maybe just take a step back. What is UFC?”

Heads swivel my way, some of them with an incredulous look on their faces. Almost enough to make me squirm just a little. But I don’t betray even a smidge of my discomfort – confidence is key.

“Uhm, it’s the Ultimate Fighting Championship. You know – that mixed martial arts competition with the different weight classes? The one that literally draws hundreds of millions of viewers from across the world?” Blake, my Director of Finances, pipes up. Heads right across the table nods as he speaks. I don’t miss his tone of voice, like he’s speaking to a child.

Thanks to my werewolf genes I may look like I’m only 20, but in reality, I’m older than 40-something Blake. So I don’t appreciate the way he and a few others around this table speaks to me sometimes without realizing it. I’m their boss, after all.

I return my attention to Lee-Anne. “Carry on”.

She jumps straight back in, outlining the benefits Eterna Resorts would reap from hosting a round of UFC fights. I’m starting to warm to the idea slightly, but I’m not quite there yet.

“Have you considered the public relations fallout of offering violent fighting contests where sports betting and other potentially unsavory practices runs rife, being offered at a family-friendly venue like Savannah City?” I ask, my mind racing to cover every possible angle before saying yes to the proposal.

Lee-Ann is ready with an answer though. “Yes, miss Hunter. I had my team run surveys on sentiment around UFC and we’ve found that its surprisingly well supported by all age groups. Unlike those staged wrestling contest that graced our screens for a decade or two, these fights offer an authenticity that seems to be lacking in many of today’s combat sports. The millions that tune in to watch the matches are fascinated by the sheer strength and skill of these fighters.”

The heads around the table bobs again, everyone clearly agreeing with those surveys and her words.

“What kind of crowds are we looking to host?”

She’s quick to answer yet again. “The thing about these match rounds is that it’s not just the main event that attract crowds, it’s the whole build-up to it too. There would be at least two weeks of intense media presence, the fighters and their entourages – which can be quite large – and then the people who come for the spectacle. That’s mostly males between the ages of 30 and 45, but not excluding even children. They’d be coming from right around the world, but we can expect to draw a huge local crowd too.”

Kurt, my head of IT, interjects with more information. “Heck, you’ll be looking at the same kind of numbers that can fill a stadium – around 40 to 60 thousand depending on the venue.”

“We can’t house that many at Savannah City, and the nearest actual city from the resort is a two-hour drive away. And our events arena there isn’t nearly as big – maybe only with a 20 thousand capacity?”

“Which is perfect, really,” Lee-Anne answers. “The event itself can be marketed as ‘more intimate’ than usual. We house the journos and the athletes and anyone who is considered a VIP at the Savannah City hotels, all at premium prices of course, and raise the price of any remaining room so that those who are willing to pay to be among these guys have the opportunity to do so. Then, those thousands who comes only on the day of the main event will arrive well before the start of the actual fights, paying day attendance fees while spending money in the waterpark, the casino, the curio shops and the bars.”

“And viewership? You mentioned millions?”

She smiles, knowing she has me hooked now.

“The last UFC round reached a global live TV audience of 300 million and had a total of 8.8 billion global social views. Part of our hosting deal would include free advertising before, during and after the matches for not just Savannah City, but for Eterna Resorts as a whole. And my team is already working on a much larger PR strategy that centers around the journalists in attendance. We’re going all out with open-vehicle safaris and special spa experiences. We’re also thinking about providing a branded bus service from Pretoria and Johannesburg, that will depart once every hour from as early as eight in the morning, and departing in a convoy an hour after the matches ended. There’s too much to mention right now, but we’ll have the plan ready for you to review by tomorrow afternoon.”

I nod, thinking of the other implications and impacts an event like this could have on the company.

“Okay, before we make a final decision, I want reports on my table by close of business tomorrow – everything from where the South African government stands on this to the impact hosting the event will have on security at Savannah City, additional staffing needs and liaising with border controls at the airport for any VIPs flying in directly to the resort. I want a full cost benefit analysis and, of course, the whole marketing and PR strategy and promotional contract with the UFC organizers. Please highlight any potential risks, political or economic sensitivities and a detailed timeline. Speaking of which, when is this planned for, Lee-Anne?”

“It’s scheduled for September, miss Hunter. That gives us six months almost to the day.”

“That soon? Right, get on it people. Six months sounds like a lot, but it would be on us sooner than you think, and big events like these usually takes years of planning. Do the organizers have an events team that we can liaise with?”

“They do, and it’s not their first rodeo, so to speak. We’ll have to lean heavily on their experience and expertise while we bring the local flavor and Eterna magic!”

I smiled at Lee-Anne’s enthusiasm before I glanced down at my agenda again.

“Well then, let’s move on to our next agenda item. Kurt, you’re up. Please start with the cyber security breach we had in our Malaysia office last month. What’s the latest?”

The meeting swiftly moves on from the UFC proposal and, while I’m attentive and ask the right questions at the right times, a part of my brain is pondering the whole proposal. I probably have come across the UFC concept somewhere before, but not paid attention to it. I bet my brothers would know more – and definitely all the pack warriors.

I make a mental note to ask them about it when I’m back in Moon Lake. It will be three days before I can leave New York and head home for breathing space with my pack. Three days before I can hug my little baby sister Tallulah. Three days until I can spar with a few of the warriors and get an itch scratched with Kyle. Hmm. Can’t wait for the three days to pass.