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)
“The pleasure is ours,” he says, setting a Wayfair-branded credit card down on the bill folder. “Hey—we’ll have to get you one of these.” He taps the card. “And Diamond status, of course.”
“Like Darcy,” I say with a smile.
“Yeah, about Darcy.” He lifts his gaze to mine. “My daughters don’t get along so well, have you noticed?”
“Of course,” I say immediately. It’s not Darcy’s fault, either, but I stop short of saying so.
His eyes flick in the direction where Tessa has gone. “We’re so excited to welcome you to various Wayfair properties over the next couple of years. But it would be better if Darcy didn’t accompany you on any of our photo shoots.”
“Wait, what?”
He studies me with familiar blue-green eyes. “Tessa will be working closely with me. And I feel she’ll be better able to concentrate without her more successful sister around. Tessa gets intimidated.”
“Intimidated,” I repeat slowly.
“Of course.” He smiles. “Darcy is a self-made woman. Just like her dad. Could have been raised by wolves, that one. But Tessa is a sensitive soul and still growing into her power.”
Sensitive? This level of bullshit glitches my brain, and I just scowl at him.
“She’s jealous, Eric.” He glances over his shoulder to make sure his daughter is still out of earshot. “She’s in a vulnerable place. And the timing is difficult. To see Darcy pairing up with a guy like you at this delicate moment in Tessa’s own life is just something she’s struggling with. You understand.”
“I understand,” I say numbly. Yeah, I understand a lot of things, and none of them are good. I reach under my chair and find the folder with the contract in it. The satisfying weight of it in my hand is something I’d been looking forward to.
But now I can’t remember why.
I take a slow breath, and then I make a decision. I set the folder down on the table across from Mr. Rudolph. “Thank you for lunch. But I don’t think this is going to be a good fit for me after all.”
He blinks. “Now, hold on—which part?”
“The part where you sacrifice Darcy’s feelings for no good reason.” I push back my chair. “Thank you for the opportunity, sir. But I can’t say yes. If Darcy isn’t welcome on a trip with me to her father’s hotel, then I don’t feel welcome, either. It wouldn’t be authentic.”
“But…” he sputters. “Let’s discuss this. Maybe we can work something out. Tessa can come to some of the shoots, and Darcy to others.”
“No, thank you.” I rise from my chair. “I don’t think we’ll see eye to eye on this. Sorry, sir, but this opportunity just isn’t for me.”
“We were going to pay you three million dollars!” he calls after me.
Heads swivel in my direction, but it means nothing to me. I’ve never felt more secure in any decision I’ve made. Not ever.
I walk right out of the restaurant and into the summer sunshine. Phone in hand, I call my agent as I cross Spring Street.
“How did it go?” Bess asks breathlessly. “This contract isn’t half bad.”
“Tear it up,” I tell her. “Sorry to waste your time, but it’s not a good fit.”
She’s quiet for a long beat. “Eric, brand-wise it was a good fit. And you’ve wanted this kind of splashy sponsorship for such a long time. So what’s the obstacle?”
“It’s the management. I thought I could work with Mr. Randolph, but I don’t think I can.” Then a terrible thought occurs to me. “God, it was a lot of money. The commission you would have made! I’m so sorry.”
“No, no, stop,” she insists. “Don’t be sorry. I need you to feel great about everything you sign. But it would help me to understand the problem with this deal, so we can do better next time.”
“It’s complicated. I might…” I heave a sigh. “I might be a little in love with one of Randolph’s daughters.”
“Oh,” Bess says.
“But maybe it’s even bigger than that. I thought I wanted a big sponsorship. I thought I was supposed to want it. Maybe I was just feeding my ego. I don’t like what it says about me.”
“Hey, sponsorships aren’t just about ego,” she says gently. “Or even money. It’s about expanding your brand. An athlete with a big platform has more choices when retirement inevitably comes around.”
I stop walking and lean against a brick wall. Looking up, I see a sky that’s impossibly blue. Retirement feels a long way off, but that’s an illusion. Bess’s job is to cushion the blow when it comes, and I appreciate that. “I hear you. I really do. Except you always tell your players that it’s your job to get us what we want, but we have to know what it is first.”
“That’s right.”
“I thought I knew what I wanted, but I was wrong. I was following other people’s playbooks, and it wasn’t right for me. But I think I finally found something I really care about.”