“Thank you for saying that.” Giggling, Kara nods her head. “I’ll go get the busboy to bring over some bread and water for you. Your server will be out soon.”
As she disappears, I reach inside my jacket and pull out a book. One of the first days I landed here I’d walked around the town to get a feel for it and stumbled into the coolest little bookshop, Falling for Books. One of the employees had taken the time to talk to me about what I was feeling like I needed to read right now, and she even gathered quite the selection. I left with five new books that day, but tonight’s book is intentional. With the way I’d been feeling about practices and our lack of gelling as a team, I’d brought alongYou Are a Badass Every Dayto get some motivational help.
Yes. I am a man who likes a good self-help book, and I ain’t too proud to talk about it nor show the cover.
As I turn the pages, though, my chance encounter with Willa comes to mind. Again. I’ve spent the last few days since our run-in thinking of her. Pffft. Who am I kidding? I’ve spent the last few years thinking about her.
Do I recall that particular day on her set? Yes and no. It wasn’t my best moment. In fact, I ended up in rehab about a week later, and a month after that, I cleaned house and fired all the team I had around me. My PR staff, my agent, managers, all of them. Anyone who had helped enable me over the years,because that is what it had come to. I was a money-making machine for them, never mind I was drowning.
The thing I remember most about that day, though, was locking eyes with the photographer the moment I walked on that set. She had the kindest, most innocent air about her. Like a wicked genius who had no idea the power she held over me. I’d looked her up before the shoot and researched the work she’d done. I was excited I had the chance to work with her. When she talked to me, it felt like she could see through me, and—not gonna lie—it freaked me out.
To the point I requested that my publicist run out and get me more tequila. Nothing like more booze to put a Band-Aid on last night’s hangover, right?
The shrill ring of my cell phone breaks my thoughts. Swiping it from its spot on the table, I see my current agent’s name flash across the screen and I grin.
“Travis. Good to hear from you, man. What’s going on?”
“Just over here making deals for you, my friend.” He chuckles in my ear. Travis Richards is the agent not only for myself but for a few of my teammates in River City. He’d come to me highly recommended by my friend Dixon, the goalie for the Renegades. “Are you settling in okay in Maple Falls?”
“Believe it or not, I am. Reminds me of that TV show my niece used to watch … about a mom and her daughter. I think they had the same name.”
“Stars Hollow,” Travis laughs. “The show is calledGilmore Girls, and it’s my sister, Riley’s, favorite show of all time.”
“Noted. Hey, you’re here, in Maple Falls now, right?”
“I’m at The Regent’s Hotel. This town is really quaint.”
“Yeah, it’s the perfect small town in a lot of ways,” I say as my eyes land on Molly who is watching me like a hawk as she pours a drink behind the bar. “It’s also a little clingy, but what’re you gonna do?”
“As long as you’re staying out of trouble,” he teases. That’s what I like about him: we talk openly about my past, but heknows I am who I am now. The old Noah, he’s gone. “I’d come to meet you, but I’ve been invited by Zach Hart to some fancy party at the house of some family who are, like, local business owners or entrepreneurs or something. I was hoping you were going.”
“Nah, not for me. I’m at dinner, then going to get an early night. I want to hit the ice ahead of everyone tomorrow to get my head into the game, you know?”
“Of course.” Travis pauses for a beat before he presses on. “While I have you, let me go over a few things with you really quick.”
“Hit me with it.”
“First, we need to discuss the dinner you’re having with a local fan while you’re here.”
I fight the urge to sigh. Travis knows I’m not the best when it comes to one-on-ones, but I also trust him and know he wouldn’t have me doing this unless he had a good reason.
“Fine. Who is it and where is it?”
“I’m still firming up the details, but Charlie Arnold is a thirteen-year-old who has been dying to meet you. The Arnolds want to extend an invitation for you to come to their place for a home-cooked meal. I told them I’d ask, so it’s up to you.”
“Home cooked sounds better and less public than out in a restaurant.” Plus this fan is only thirteen? Travis knows my weak spot. I’ll do anything for the kids. “Of course I’m happy to go to their place for a meet, greet, and eat.”
“Awesome,” Travis says with a snicker in my ear. “Now, something less fun is that Cecilia is trying to get in touch for tickets and she wants to know your schedule. How do you want me to handle it?”
“Ignore her. I’ve told her no when she’s messaged me, when she’s emailed, and when she’s had her assistant reach out to my publicist. No means no. She is toxic and I don’t want her here.”
“Well, that makes that a simple answer. I’ll let her know that your people want her to steer clear.”
“Please, just do your best to keep her away. I’ve got enough on my plate.”
“Speaking of plates, pass yours down because I’ve got more to pile on it. We’ll call this the Thanksgiving priority list.”
“Ha,” I say, sliding the menu in front of me and scanning it as Travis ticks down his to-do list. “What’s next?”