Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Maybe they’re not,” I agree. “But that’s on them. I got a new tux for this wedding, and I’m ready to show it off while I walk you down the aisle. And I promise that I’ll deal with that photo of my mother’s if it shows up here.”
She smiles, even as her eyes brighten with tears. “Thank you, Eric. Seriously. You have no idea…”
“Actually, I think I do.” I pull her in for a hug. “It’s okay, Belly. You’re going to have a beautiful wedding, and it’s not your job to worry about my parents.”
She gives me a fierce hug. Then someone else calls her name, and I wave her off. I take our drinks and head back to the table, where Darcy is still talking to her dad. Watching them together is interesting. Mr. Randolph might have been a terrible husband and a sketchy dad, but the expression on his face tells me he loves his daughter, and he’s thrilled to see her on this beach.
“Eric!” he says as I approach. “So glad you could make it. How’s your hotel room?”
As I hand Darcy her wine, we share a conspiratorial glance, seeing as the question is directed at both of us. “It’s magnificent.”
“Good, good!” He beams. “Let me know if there’s anything you two need. How was your trip up here? And Darcy—how is your mother?”
Her smile tightens. “Mom is fine. The trip was smooth. We stayed at Eric’s parents’ house last night.”
“Oh, of course,” Mr. Randolph says grandly. “You must not get to Massachusetts much during the season, eh?”
“That’s right,” I agree.
“At least your parents don’t have to travel very far to see you play,” he says. “Amtrak to New York gets them within a few blocks, right?”
As if. “They’re big fans,” I lie.
Darcy’s father nods along. “You know, Eric? I was thinking—you must spend a lot of time in hotels.”
“So much.” I chuckle. “I have almost as many points on my account as Darcy.”
He grins. “And how do you feel about Wayfair properties?”
“Love ’em,” I say immediately, and it’s not a lie. “The Wayfair always has great staff and a great gym. I stay at the Wayfair Seattle every time we’re in town. Also, Chicago and Raleigh. Oh—and LA. Love the swimming pool there.”
Darcy, inexplicably, gives me a heated glance. Maybe she likes LA, too.
“That’s great to hear,” her father muses. “I’ve been hatching an idea. Would you ever consider a sponsorship arrangement with Wayfair? We’re trying to draw a younger crowd.”
I blink. “Well, sure. Of course. It’s a great brand.”
He nods thoughtfully. “Let me discuss this with the marketing department. I know they were talking to some golfers already. But hockey is a sexier sport, and I think it hits the younger demographic. It’s edgier, you know? It would be a fun look.”
“Yessir,” I say a little too quickly. “My agent would be happy to take that call.”
“Fantastic,” he says. “I’ll work on it after the wedding.” Then he smiles at his daughter and asks her a question about the classes she’s taking this summer.
I take a sip of my soda and play that conversation back in my mind. A national sponsorship with Wayfair? I’d love the paycheck, of course, and maybe they’d want to shoot the campaign at some gorgeous destination. Plus, I’d probably get Brie and grapes in my hotel rooms for life.
Winner winner chicken dinner.
Mr. Randolph moves on to greet more of his guests, and Darcy turns to me. She glances over her shoulder to make sure we’re alone, and then she squeezes my wrist. “Eric! A sponsorship! We didn’t even have to hold up a bank!”
I laugh out loud. “Are you sure? It’s not a done deal. And your father basically agreed with my agent, if you think about it. I’m only a bad boy if you stand me next to a golfer.”
She claps a hand over her mouth and laughs. “Whatever it takes, right?”
“This wouldn’t bother you, would it? If I ended up taking a sponsorship from your dad?”
She gives me a confused frown. “God, why?”
“Well…” My eyes track over to the man in question. “You have a complicated relationship with him and his money.”
“Oh, that.” She waves a hand dismissively. “That’s my issue. And someone is going to get that sponsorship. Why not you? Don’t let some boring golfer have it out of spite.”
We both cackle. “Sushi next? I think they just brought out the swordfish and risotto, too.”
“My body is ready,” Darcy insists. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 23
Valuable Minutes
Darcy
Eric and I take full advantage of the buffet. Meanwhile, the hotel staff has built a bonfire. Then they pass out s’mores kits and marshmallow roasting sticks.
“Oh, sweet,” Eric says, inspecting his stick. “How’s your marshmallow game?”
“Pro level,” I brag.
“I always get impatient and light them on fire,” he says, piercing a marshmallow.
“Amateur.”
The glance he gives me sparkles with competitiveness, so I give it my best effort. And we each toast a perfect marshmallow on the first try.