Page 115 of Big Stick Energy
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 yourown 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 likethatone,” 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.
“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’sjealous, 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 likeyouat 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.
