Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“That’s awesome. Good for him to find an outlet like that. Do his students love him?”
“I get the impression they do. They seem pretty engaged.”
“And it sounds like he’s chosen wisely when it comes to sports. Did I catch on correctly that he’s a Renegades fan?”
“He goes to every home game.”
“I love him already. You’re pretty close to him? You see and talk to him regularly?”
“Yes, I try to visit him at least every other weekend. We’ve always been close. He’s the person I’ve turned to for career advice over the years. He’s never led me astray.”
A huge smile crosses Jones’s face. “Love that. Just love it. That’s how it should be, you know? Being able to lean on and depend on your parents, your brothers, your sister.” He tilts his head and scratches his chin. “But I’m curious about something. What did he think you’d do on the drive up?”
I grumble, “Sleep in the car.”
“You managed the ride to Stinson the other day without napping. But that was a much shorter drive.”
I wave a hand and fix on a grin, giving my best perky face. “I won’t fall asleep. I’m wide awake.”
But in thirty minutes, I’m yawning as we pass the San Rafael exit. As we cross to Novato, my eyes flutter shut.
True to form, I wake up forty-five minutes later in Wine Country with my head in Jones’s lap.
My head is in his lap.
I don’t move. This might be a dream. I blink. The world is sideways, and Jones’s hand is in my hair. He’s actually running his hand across my hair. Gently. Casually. Sweetly.
It feels better than it should.
It feels so incredibly good. Like comfort I didn’t know I needed. Like friendship I wasn’t sure we had.
I close my eyes, and pretend to sleep until the car pulls into the lot at the winery. This is all I will ever get of him, and I want to savor these last few minutes with his hands on me.
A curious orange kitten scampers over a wine barrel then climbs to the next one above it, balancing beautifully. He’s like the king of the jungle—or the king of the winery where we’ll shoot today’s picture for the month of March. The winery is attached to a hotel, and we’ll be spending the night here.
As the humane society rep watches the furry-faced creature, my phone beeps with a text message. I slide it open to see a note from Liam McHenry, the guy who owns Paleo Pet and is overseeing the new deal. He’s arriving any minute, he says. I excuse myself to wait for him out front.
When a pickup truck pulls up, and a tall, trim, and surprisingly handsome sandy-haired man with a fair complexion steps out, I’m surprised he’s Liam. But the license plate—MEOW ARF—is a big tip-off.
I’m surprised because I expected Liam to have a driver. That’s what I’m accustomed to when guys from big sponsors show up. I figured he’d be sporting a tailored suit, too, rather than jeans and a crisp button-down. I researched him, too. His family’s from Scotland originally, but he’s lived in the United States his whole life.
His smile shows off straight white teeth and he sounds like he’s spent most of those years right here—he’s got a California accent. “You must be Jillian. Ford Grayson raves about you.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Liam.” We shake hands. “And a little bird told me Cletus raved about your dog food.”
Running a hand through his hair, Liam laughs. “Man, we are thrilled about Jones. Love that guy. Love his commitment to excellence. To healthy eating. To being the best in every single game. He just delivers on the field, doesn’t he?”
“You can’t argue with fifteen hundred and two yards for the season and fourteen yards on average per pass,” I say, sharing Jones’s stats from last year. “Not to mention his love of animals. He’ll be a great face for your brand.”
“I’m stoked, Jillian. When I found out about him and Cletus, I knew he was the guy I needed to take us to the next level.” Liam rubs his hands together. “He’s such a fan favorite already, and we really want to make sure the heads of household who buy our dog food love him the way we love him. So many dogs and cats these days are just like family.”
I make a mental note to remind Jones that Paleo Pet sees itself as a family-centric brand. “You need to come see Jones’s co-star today, then. This little kitten will melt your heart, and we can also take a shot of just you and Jones to post on social—something to show you’re now in business with him.” A picture like that can help spread the word about the sponsorship and continue to present Jones in a new light. A true win-win. The calendar teaser shots, though? Those I keep for the team feed.