Page 111 - Just Deserts

The Sirocco Lites 26K Run for the Money

company that wants to get into the sports sponsorship racket, and it’s
willing to pay plenty for the privilege. But those guys sitting in the
corner offices in their three-piece suits don’t have a clue how to go
about setting it up. That’s where you come in.”
Ace blinked, but his vision did not improve. “Tobacco? I know
they’re tied into a tennis match somewhere, but that can’t be the
same outfit. What brand is it?”
Brainard held up his cigarette package. “This one: Sirocco Lites.”
The promoter contracted his edematous features in obvious
concentration. “Nope. Can’t think of anything they’re associated
with. Not every tobacco company wants to get involved with sports,
you know. All that bad press about health hazards. Scare tactics by
the government, if you ask me.”
“Yeah,” nodded Brainard. “Look at me: been smoking since I was
a kid. Hasn’t hurt me any.”
“Me neither,” wheezed La Manza. “So what do they want to
sponsor? Basketball? Skeet shooting? The whole damned Olympic
Games? They could afford it!”
Boyd laughed.
“You really crack me up, Ace. You’ve got a great sense of humor:
anyone ever tell you that? Well, they wanted something outdoors,
because all of their advertising shows people being active out in the
woods and places like that, not in a stadium. So I looked around, and
I found the perfect thing: a marathon race in a beautiful town on the
Pacific coast. The city council is on the verge of canceling it because
of budget problems.”
Ace pursed his lips. “Sounds promising. But you can’t just go
waltzing into a place like that and take over their little claim to fame.
It’s got to be approached properly, through the right people, if you
know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean, and I have some names already.
A little grease will go a long way in that town, believe me. I’ve also
got a great angle on the logo presentation. So, what do you say, Ace?
Can I count you in? Hey, there: bartender! Mr. La Manza’s glass is
empty!”

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