Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“No.” She smirks. “But I like it. You like him?”
“As my client, I want him to succeed.” I look at her point blank, and she raises her eyebrow at me. “He’s my client, and I don’t date my clients,” I say.
“Then we are both on the same page,” she says. “Why don’t I give you a call next week, and we can go over a couple of things? Maybe come up with a plan.” I don’t want to tell her that I won’t take the meeting unless Ralph is there, and he approves of things. At the end of the day, he is in charge.
“That sounds good,” I say, and then I see the shield that she had up come down. Her gray eyes go a bit softer even.
“I’m glad he has you in his corner,” she says and walks over to the store’s owner.
I take a picture of Manning also, and when it’s done, and there is no one else, I have them both pose for a picture together. “Okay, you two, let’s do some cross-promo,” I say, and Manning rolls his eyes.
“I told you I’m not going to be on social media,” he says. “Especially not Instagram.”
“What do you have against the ’gram?” I ask, putting my hands on my hips.
“I am a private person,” he says. “I don’t want an Instagram account, I don’t want Facebook, and I don’t want a website.”
“I want that,” Ralph says, pointing at Manning. “Why can’t I have that?”
“Because you gotta be the captain to have all the perks,” he says, slapping Ralph on the shoulder. I shake my head. Out of all my clients, he has to be the most private man I’ve ever met. No social media ever, and he answers and gives interviews only during the season. He is never in drama; he is never in anything. He is the best defenseman, and he’s also a monster on the ice with the hardest shot. He’s the nicest man you will ever meet, and he’s married to The Wicked Witch of The West. When I first started doing his social media, she poured a glass of champagne over my head, thinking I was trying to sleep with him. Needless to say, he’s been apologizing for her during his whole career. “I have to run. I have to pick up the kids.”
“I’ll touch base with you next week,” Becca says to him. He walks over to her and kisses her cheek. He’s about to come to me when Ralph steps in front of him.
“Enough with the kisses, Romeo.” He puts out his hand, and I see Becca’s just watching the scene.
Manning laughs and looks over at me. “Keep me off social media,” he says, walking out. His blue eyes glitter at me as he puts his glasses on.
“My job is to put you on social media,” I call out, and he just holds up a hand. “I don’t even know why I try.”
“He pays you double,” Becca says, laughing.
“That might be it.” I laugh, then turn to Ralph. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah.” Turning his head, he spots something. “What is that?” he says, walking to the hanging picture. Following him, I gasp when I see the picture of Evan when he was in Dallas. “Look at this.”
“That was taken right before he got traded,” I say of the picture. “It was his one-hundredth point in one season. He was at the top of his game.” I hear Ralph laugh beside me. “I mean, he’s still at the top of his game, he’s just . . .”
“You look so young,” Ralph says, his eyes on me in the picture.
“I was young, and I was such a bitch,” I say, and he gasps. “I was horrible and selfish. I even tried to break up Zara and him.”
“No way,” he says, shocked, and I nod. Taking my phone out, I snap a picture of it and send it to Evan. “I can’t picture you being anything but amazing,” he says, his voice going low as he looks at me. The two of us don’t break eye contact, and my heart beats so fast I hope he doesn’t hear it. “I should call and see how Ari is doing.” He finally looks away.
“Of course,” I say, walking next to him while he calls. Suddenly, he stops.
“Why is she crying so hard?” he asks, and he looks around. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He puts the phone down and looks at me. “She’s hysterical.”
“Go,” I say. “I’ll catch an Uber.” He looks at me, not sure what to do. “I’m fine, go.” I almost push him out of the store, and when he finally gets in his truck, that is when I finally blow out the breath I was holding.
“This is not going to end well,” I say to myself. “It can only end with your heart being broken,” I mumble.