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)
This is really happening.
“Don’t worry about the terms,” Mr. Randolph says. “I already sent a copy to Bess, and I’m sure she’ll vet it thoroughly. She wouldn’t want you to discuss contract details, right? Which means we can focus on the fun stuff.”
“Like… photo shoots?”
“Exactly!” Tessa says brightly. “Since the hockey season is already starting, and your schedule is a bear, we know we won’t get a block of your time until June of next year. But we were hoping you could spare a day in Los Angeles in November, when you’re scheduled to be there on a road trip. We’ll put you in the executive suite at our property there and shoot for a couple of hours in the room and at the pool.”
“That’s probably doable. We always stay at the Wayfair in LA.”
“Wonderful.” She beams. “Our next opportunity after that will be when you play Seattle in December. We’d repeat the same trick, grabbing a day of your time on the road. We’d want shots of you in the spa and at the rooftop bar.”
“I like it. Is there anything I’d need to bring?”
“No way. We’ll take care of everything,” she says, waving a hand across the table. “We’ll hire a hair and makeup guy for the set. You’ll provide your measurements ahead of time, and on the day of our shoot, a stylist will arrive with wardrobe choices. Even a bathing suit for those thirst-trap shots by the pool.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.
I keep my expression neutral, because I guess that’s exactly what I’ve signed up for—people’s eyeballs on my body. My teammates do this all the time, so it shouldn’t give me the ick, right?
Maybe I’ll need to work on that. “Sounds like a plan,” I tell her. “Get ready to color-correct those photos, though, because a hockey player is very pasty during the season.”
She laughs like I’m hilarious. “Noted! But then in June, the real fun starts! We’ll do a beach shoot in California or Mexico, and you can work on your actual tan.”
“I want some golf shots, too,” her father adds. “On the fairway at the Wayfair. It has such a nice ring to it.”
“Yes! And on the beach.” Tessa’s gaze takes a lengthy tour over my torso. “Next June, we’ll go down there a week ahead of time. We’ll play the golf course together and show you around. You can spend some time on the beach. We want you to feel authentic about everything you do for Wayfair.”
I force another smile. “That sounds great. I really appreciate it.” Except for one big problem. Darcy is still not speaking to me, and I can’t picture myself spending any length of time at a Wayfair resort without her. I wouldn’t even want to.
“We’re working with our advertising firm on some concepts,” Mr. Randolph says. “One idea was to do something humorous—like having you use your hockey stick on the putting green.”
“All right, that’s kind of funny.” I like this better than just a thirsty beach shot. “And not just the putting green. How about shuffleboard, too? Or wait—badminton? I could make it work.”
“Yes!” Tessa shrieks, and they both laugh.
“You’re a good sport, Eric,” Mr. Randolph says. “The contract also calls for you to put some sponsored Wayfair content on your own social media accounts. But it doesn’t have to be a hard sell. Just some organic shots of you at our properties.”
I expected that, so I just nod. “The voice would be just, like, ‘another great meal at the Wayfair.’”
“Sure,” Tessa agrees. “Or you could say something about how you always get a good night’s sleep at the Wayfair. A comfortable bed and a hot cup of coffee. That sort of thing.”
“Authenticity is better than a sales pitch,” Mr. Randolph agrees. “Like that marshmallow picture on the beach.”
“Well, not like that one,” Tessa says tightly, and her father’s eyes cut over to her.
“Not exactly like that one,” he says gently. “But the casual vibe is nice.”
The rest of lunch goes well enough. We get onto the topic of fishing, and I don’t have any trouble spending twenty minutes on the merits and risks of using live bait versus lures in saltwater fishing.
And it’s all… fine. I’m not nearly as excited as I expected to be after a guy handed me a seven-figure deal. Not when I still don’t know where Darcy’s head is.
The waiter brings the check, and Tessa excuses herself to visit the ladies’ room. I know from experience that it’s all the way downstairs. But still—now I’m only minutes away from escaping this claustrophobic sit-down, and it makes me feel generous. “Thanks for lunch, Harvey. It’s a pleasure. And it’s true when I say the Wayfair never lets me down.” Especially the one in Massachusetts, which will forever be my favorite now.