Quick Trick (A Rough Riders Hockey Novel Book 1) (15 page)

Grant nodded. “Yep. I get it.”

“Her blog posts will contain photos and videos that feed into all her social media outlets. In turn, all her social media posts will track back to her blog posts. And she’ll use a master link system that feeds all clicks through her affiliate links, so that no matter how a person finds their way to Home Depot or Lowes or wherever from her post, Faith will always be compensated for a sale.”

Taylor lifted her hand, index finger poised. “Now, once she has a following, she can start reaching out to companies to solicit advertising, sponsorships, and even partnerships. And if she wants to, she can create an online store where a person could go to buy everything they need to complete a project she’s demonstrated. She could even put together kits at cost and sell them at retail. Really, the sky is the limit here.”

“This is amazing.”

“She doesn’t even have to be an actress or have special equipment to produce these videos. As long as her space, presentation, and speaking are professional and easy to understand, she could use her phone to do it. Though, come to think of it, hers probably doesn’t have enough memory.”

“That’s okay. I’m leaving the camera, software, and laptop with her.”

“Really? She agreed to that?”

He looked over and found Taylor’s brows snapped together in disbelief.

“No.” He smiled, but it was subdued. “She doesn’t know it. I’m going to stuff them under her bed before I go. You get to be the bearer of that news.”

Taylor smirked. “Gee, thanks.”

“What are friends for?”

“But seriously, that’s incredibly sweet of you.”

Grant shook his head. In his world, that equipment cost less than his bar tab after buying drinks for the team when he’d been chosen MVP for the night. “I know she’d throw a fit if I tried to give it to her outright.”

“You got her figured out fast.”

He grinned. “She’s not exactly complicated. Proud, loyal, and mildly frustrating, maybe. But not complicated.”

Taylor’s smile was warm. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

He closed his eyes on a laugh. “Fucking incredible.”

Taylor reached out and squeezed his forearm. The affectionate gesture told Grant he’d passed the best-friend test. He only wished that was the biggest of the roadblocks facing him and Faith.

“Actually, the most popular tutorials are those that relate to the average Joe,” Taylor said. “And as you can see by the popularity of the segment you put up for her, her looks and sweet personality will be as big a hit on camera as they are in town.” She propped her elbow on the desk and rested her head in her hand. “Now, let’s talk about exactly how you got that video to shoot up in the views so fast.”

He lifted his brows. “You just said—”

“Uh-uh.” She made a cutting gesture in the air between them. “You’re talking to the expert here. I know that video had help. I want to know what it is.”

“Don’t tell Faith.”

“Can’t promise.”

He sighed. “Okay, don’t tell her right away. Let her have the excitement for a little while. She needs a little hope in her life.”

“Wow.” Taylor shook her head. “You’re almost too good to be true.” She narrowed her eyes. “If I find out you’re married, I’m going to hunt you down and cut off your balls.”

“Whoa.” He laughed the word and put his hands up. “I’m
not
married.”

She pointed at him. “You’ve been warned. All right, dish.”

“I posted the video, then sent an email to all the guys on the team and asked them to share it on social media.”

“Oh.” Taylor’s eyes glazed over as thoughts churned in her head. “
Oh
.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re a freaking marketing genius too?” More narrow-eyed looks. “I’m watching you.”

“I have been warned,” he echoed, smiling. “So, everything we just talked about gets you here?” Grant tapped the mid-six-figure number at the bottom of Taylor’s income sheet for the prior year.

“It does. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Why didn’t she do this a long time ago? When she saw it was working for you, why didn’t she start doing it then?”

“Her dad was pretty old-fashioned. Believed business should be between two people, face-to-face, and she didn’t want to upset him. Besides, she had too much going on. This is a serious time suck, one that doesn’t immediately pay off, and she was taking complete care of her dad and running the store. Toward the end, her father had to get angry for her to finally allow Hospice to come once a day.”

Grant dropped back in his chair, blew out a long breath, his gaze on the papers that signified limitless opportunities for Faith. A chance at the freedom she should have had in life.

“God, I’m so damned excited about this for her.”

“Right? I’m really excited you got her started. Between the store, my work, and Caleb, we’ve both been so busy, we haven’t been able to work out a time to get it together. Again, this is no Holy Grail in marketing. No perfect system. And there’s a huge amount of work involved, not to mention an incredibly steep learning curve. The results yielded are based on the work put in—”

“You get amazing results.”

“Because I’ve already climbed those mountains. So, I will be doing my best to cut her learning curve into a very flat plateau.”

Grant nodded, but his brain kept repeating:
“And she can do it from anywhere.”

His cell rang. He reached for his back pocket. “Hope that’s Faith. She was going to call when she was ready to put up the tables.” But it wasn’t. He glanced at Taylor. “My agent.”

“Oh, okay.” She stood. “We’re done. I’ll get all this from Faith later.”

Grant stood too. “Thanks so much. Faith’s lucky to have such a great friend.”

Once Taylor climbed the basement stairs, Grant answered, “Hey, Nick.”

“Hey, how’s Twisted Christmas?”

That was only one of his agent’s nicknames for Grant’s hometown. But Grant wasn’t in the mood for Nick’s wry humor. “Did they clear me?”

“Not yet.”

He was both frustrated and grateful. “Why not? This is taking freaking forever.”

“Danbar’s on vacation in the Caribbean.”

Doctor Danbar was the last signature Grant needed on his release forms. “Fucking A.” He threaded his hand into his hair. “This is ridiculous.”

“Relax. He’ll be back tomorrow, and I’ve already talked to Max,” Nick said, referencing the team’s manager. “You’ll go right back to first line when you hit the ice. Hey, I’ve got something that will cheer you right up—the perfect way to get you out of that backward little Christmas town and into a place where we know how to do it right.”

Grant squeezed his eyes closed and dropped his hand. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re going to a special event at the sight of the National Christmas Tree and the VIP After-Party hosted by the National Park Foundation. Ted made a big donation to the Foundation this year,” he said, referring to the Rough Riders’ owner, Theodore Hennessey, “and he and Fiona are in France for the holiday. So he’s sending you, Croft, Savage, Donovan, Hendrix, Andrade, and Lawless to represent the team. This is an awesome photo op for you to get your face back into the light after being out eight weeks.”

“Ah, wow, Nick…” His chest tightened. His skin crawled. “You know, I don’t—”

“They’re putting special lights on the tree, selling gourmet hot cider, hot chocolate, roasted chestnuts, shit like that. They’ve even got
Giselle Diamond
singing Christmas carols. Can you believe that? I mean, I guess I can. She’s a huge proponent of charity, and the proceeds benefit the US Sports Foundation. I’m sure when she heard that, she jumped on board. And, evidently, the president’s daughters are huge Diamond fans.”

This just kept getting worse. “The president is going to be there?”

“It’s
his
Christmas Tree. In front of
his
house. But he’s just showing his face to raise his numbers in the polls. There will be other local celebrities there and a portion of the donations will go directly to the US Hockey Foundation...”

Fuuuuck.
Grant dropped his head back. He was all for charity. Sometimes felt like he participated in more charity events than hockey games. But this one day, he really wanted to spend with Faith.

“Nick—“ Grant tried to break in.

“I’ve already got all of you guys the
hottest
dates on the planet. You can thank me later. You’re escorting Bridgette Ferreira.”

Grant winced. Bridgette was okay, and if he hadn’t met Faith, he’d be happy to return to the sheets with the model-turned-broadcaster, but now…no. The only woman he wanted in his sheets was Faith.

“The event is, of course, tomorrow,” Nick said, “and since you’re in Nowhere, USA, I had to book you a crazy flight schedule to get you out of Twisted Christmas and into DC in time for the event. You’re leaving tonight.”

“Just hold on.” Grant rubbed a hand over his face and started to pace. “Remember why I’m here in the first place? Ted was the one busting my ass about spending too much time with women like Bridgette. Ted was the one who forced me to choose something ‘meaningful’ to do with the rest of my rehabilitation time. So, I’m here, doing that. He can’t just wiggle his nose like a fuckin’ witch and bring me back to DC whenever he wants.”

“Uhhh, yeah. He can. He pays your salary. These events are in your contract. I thought you’d be offering to name your firstborn after me when I gave you the news.”

Grant dropped his head back and glared at the ceiling.
Noooooooooooo!

“I’m here for the kids, Nick. I don’t want to bail on them.” It was true, but he was picturing Faith in his mind. “This is charity too. I’m bringing in a lot of money for my high school team. Just tell him I can’t make it and pick someone else.”

“Dude,” Nick said in his what-the-fuck-do-you-mean-no? tone. “What’s wrong with you? It’s Christmas and all the other guys just finished five fucking grueling away games. One of the reasons Ted chose you guys is because all of you either live locally in DC or don’t have kids. And may I stress
Ted chose you
.”

Which translated to
Go if you want another offer when your current contract runs out.

Grant hung his head. “Right, sorry. My parents are making me crazy. And I promised these kids—”

“This isn’t negotiable. This is contractual. And if you’re not on that plane, you’re in breach of that contract. All you’ve got to do is be seen, get that pretty face on the news tomorrow night at the event. Sign some autographs and get a few photos with celebrities at one of the parties you go to while you’re in town. Make Ted happy. Ticket’s in your email.”

F
aith’s mind
kept winding its way back around to “what if” and “maybe” as she tested the last string of lights illuminating the ice-carving stations. She’d already packed up her gear and stored it in one of the storage sheds on-site. In a few days, she’d come do this all over again—in reverse.

By then, Grant would be gone. He’d come and gone from her life in what seemed like a flash, yet he’d left an indelible mark on her—heart and soul. She couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take her to get over him. How long it would take her to move on. Or whether she’d ever find a man like him to love again.

Love…?

She thought about that a few seconds, trying on that new description.

Not only did the feeling fit immediately, the rightness of it wrapped her in warmth and joy.

And those damn maybes and what-ifs filled her mind again.

When Faith flipped the switch and all the bulbs in the last row of lights glowed, she knew she was done. Her first year setting up without her dad. Without anyone.

Now she knew she could do it on her own.

Instead of that knowledge relaxing her or bolstering her, it depressed her. She was tired of doing everything on her own. Her mind drifted toward the puzzle of continuing to see Grant when he returned to DC. She spun the pieces in her mind, tried to make them fit. When they didn’t, she took out those pieces and tried others. Still no good.

H
er phone chimed
, and she smiled, anticipating a text from him. But when she pulled her cell from her pocket, she found a new email. From Natalie.

“Ugh.” Dread and guilt twined as she tapped it open, wondering what snarky comment Natalie had delivered now.

But no words filled the email. Just photos. Image after image after image of Grant with different women. Faith’s gut tightened automatically, as if fending off a punch.

They all looked like paparazzi pics or event photos. None were provocative, but they all clearly displayed Grant as an attentive, affectionate half of a couple.

With her stomach aching, Faith shored up a framework for her thoughts. She knew Grant was a player. A player was exactly the kind of man she’d been trying out when she’d gone into this fling. He’d never made promises. Never led her to believe anything in his life would change once he left Holly for DC or any other city. He owed her nothing.

But, no, that didn’t magically erase the pain.

She blew out a slow breath and focused on the single line of text below each image.

Miriam Birovski, CFO, Birovski Vodka.

Daphne Johnson, corporate attorney, Oracle.

Tiffany Shapiro, model.

Bridgette Ferreira, model, broadcaster.

Faith continued scrolling, scanning over a dozen photographs, names, and titles while the uncomfortable tightness beneath her ribs became a stabbing pain.

At the bottom, Natalie’s parting message hammered every one of Faith’s insecurities home:
You’ll never belong.

She forced her eyes closed and turned off her screen. None of that mattered, because this wasn’t permanent. This wasn’t
real
. This was a fling.

“There you are.” Grant’s voice startled her, and she pivoted toward him. He was smiling, but not in that light, happy way she’d come to love. “I thought you were going to call me to help you set up the tables.”

He wore his parka and jeans. His knit hat was covered with snow.

“You were already spending all that extra time looking at my books and working on a marketing plan with Taylor,” she said, starting in his direction.

When he was beneath the arena’s cover, he pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his hair while he looked around at Faith’s setup. “Man, this looks
fantastic
.”

She smiled and went to him. He was still hers for a few more days. So she slid her hands underneath his jacket and over the soft cotton of his tee and all the warm muscle beneath. And she hugged him tight. “
You’re
fantastic.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for finishing the video for me. And getting it up online. And…just…being so all-around amazing.”

“Hold off on that assessment.” He wrapped her in his arms, framed her face with one hand, and kissed her. And even the kiss was different. A steady press of his lips that lingered, as if he didn’t want to let go. It tugged at her already aching heartstrings.

When he pulled back and looked into her eyes, she knew this wasn’t going to be something she wanted to hear. She laid her hand against his chest. “What’s wrong?”

He wrapped one big, warm hand around hers. “I just got a call from my agent.”

Faith tensed against another blow.

“God, I’m so sorry to do this to you, Faith.” He exhaled heavily. “He booked me for an event tomorrow, and I can’t get out of it. These appearances are in my contract, and I can’t bum it off on anyone else, because the guys who can go are already going. The others are married with kids and spending the night with their families.”

She nodded, but she stood on the edge of a cliff with a very long fall waiting. “Where’s the event?”

“DC.”

Exactly what she feared, but she tried like hell to hold it together. “So you won’t be here for”—
Christmas
—“the contest?”

He looked down at their joined hands and shook his head. “I’m sorry, baby. I have to leave tonight.”

Tonight?

That news hit her hard.
Really hard.

She wasn’t ready.

“Oh, wow.” Tears pushed at her eyes out of nowhere, and she let her gaze fall to his chest. “O-okay. Sure. I understand. You have to go where they want you, right?” She managed a soft bubble of laughter. “I’m lucky we met at all. If you hadn’t hurt yourself and been benched, you would never have come home for Christmas and…”

And I wouldn’t be standing here with my hopes falling ten stories.

Wild flutters of panic attacked, and Faith had the crazy urge to grab hold of him. She forced herself to look at this rationally. Logically. Tried to put it in perspective. They’d known each other only a couple of weeks. Their lives couldn’t be more different.

This was good. A quick, clean end. Better than dragging it out, getting more attached. Right?

She looked up just as he combed his hand through her hair and kissed her again. The move was so sweet, so familiar, so comforting, it killed her to think of losing him. She cupped his cheek and tried to memorize the feel of his lips.

But he pulled back too soon. “I’ve arranged for Dwayne to step in for me so you won’t have to judge with Natalie—”

“You know, I’ve been thinking about that.” The words spilled from her mouth in a now-or-never, throw-caution-to-the-wind gamble. Because in that moment, she realized she wanted to hold on to Grant more than she wanted to hold on to her ghosts from the past. More than she wanted to hold on to her anger. “I overreacted about judging. The stress has my emotions swinging all over the place. I don’t need to judge the contest.” She smiled, trying to trick herself into easing the intensity crushing her chest. “Once you’ve seen a couple thousand ice sculptures, you’ve seen ’em all, right?”

His brow furrowed a little, creating a vertical line. “But—”

“And I’ve been thinking about what you said last night too. Memories live in here.” She patted his chest. “Not in any event. Not in any physical object or geographical location. So no matter what I do or where I go, I’ll always have my dad with me. I don’t need this contest or the store or even Holly to hold on to him.”

Grant’s expression lightened, but he still looked concerned. “Baby, you’ve been through a lot, and I think you’re going to discover awesome things about yourself in the next few months.” He stroked his knuckles over her jaw, his gaze soft on hers. “But I hope you know that I think you’re already amazing.”

“I think you’re amazing too.” Faith took a deep breath and dove in with hope sparking in her heart. She’d opened the door for him to step through, if that was what he wanted. “So what’s this event they have you doing?”

He seemed more interested in tucking her hair perfectly behind her ear than the event. “Some special thing they’re doing tomorrow at the National Christmas Tree.”

“Wait, is that… That’s not…” But she couldn’t think of any other event. “The one in front of the White House?” When he didn’t correct her, she added, “The one that
the president
and his family attend?”

He chuckled at her awe, reminding Faith how sheltered her life was in small-town USA.

“Yeah.” He shook his head, unimpressed. “I’ve met him before. I know it seems like a big deal, and the first time, yeah, I guess it was cool, but it’s really not that…I don’t know…special, I guess.”

Not special to him, she thought, because he was so out of her league, maybe.

“I’m sorry,” he added after a second. “That made me sound…self-important. What I meant was that he’s actually accessible to more people than you would imagine. And he happens to be a fan of the Rough Riders. If he were a fan of the Fliers or the Islanders or something, I never would have met him.”

He sighed with a shake of his head and rubbed his eyes. “I think the more I talk, the worse I sound. I guess, like you with ice sculptures, once you’ve seen a few tree lightings, you’ve seen ’em all. And with these kinds of events, it’s never just one thing. There’s always a pre-party and an after-party, and an after-after-party… The socializing is endless. But I need to schmooze with the media to talk up my return to the game. There’s a lot more to hockey at this level than just hockey.”

“Evidently.” And it only made her think of all those gorgeous, cultured women he took to all those non-hockey events. “Who knew?”

He huffed a laugh. “Right?”

That uncomfortable tightness gathered at the center of her chest again. “But still, that’s an opportunity most people will go their whole lives without ever experiencing. And it sounds pretty damn swanky.”

“I guess.” He lifted a shoulder. “I know it makes me sound ungrateful, and I’m not, but I don’t want to go.”

She didn’t want him to go either. And if he had to go, she wished he’d ask her to go with him. She’d done everything but invite herself. But she was starting to realize that idea was straight out of a fairy tale.

“The event will be televised. You might see me on the edge of the crowd, standing with a gaggle of other scruffy guys.” He slid his arms around her waist, then lifted his mouth in a half smile. “Will you watch?”

Ice water doused Faith’s last flicker of hope. Natalie had been right. Grant wouldn’t ask her to come with him, because she didn’t belong in that world. His
real
world. Holly was his temporary fantasyland. Hockey and all the locations it took him—that was Grant’s
real
world. The world with all the lights and cameras, autographs and interviews, dates with supermodels and CFOs, and meeting the freaking president of the United States.

And Faith, small-town hardware store owner on the verge of bankruptcy, not only didn’t belong, she couldn’t fit in no matter what she did or how she tried.

The reality of that hurt in a way she couldn’t put into words.

“You bet.” She forced a smile, patted his chest, and stepped out of the circle of his arms. “I’m going to let Natalie know she’ll be judging the contest on her own, and I’ll be sure to surf cable tomorrow night to see if I can catch sight of you.”

He looked disappointed and a little lost. Twisting his wrist, he glanced at his watch, then dropped his arm. But he didn’t ask her to come. Didn’t suggest plans when he returned. And she couldn’t bear dragging out this good-bye any longer.

“Don’t be late,” she said with a smile and shooing gesture as she walked backward. The more space she created between them, the less likely she would be to lunge after him when he turned to go. “You shouldn’t keep the president of the United States waiting.
”

“I, um…I looked through all Taylor’s numbers and jotted down a rough sketch of a similar plan for you. It’s on your desk.”

“Great. I’ll look it over tonight. Thanks again. For everything.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” he added, still not moving.

She nodded, kissed the fingertips of one glove, and used that hand to wave to him. “Safe travels, Grant Saber.”

And she turned away, put her gaze on the dirty snow path leading to the parking lot, and kept her head down and her mind focused on getting one foot in front of the other.