I misheard him. That must be it.
“You’re yanking my chain,” I say.
“I’m not.”
“Did your last social media manager slash public relations liaison get a new job or did she or he move out of state?”
“No and no. It’s a new position.”
My jaw drops. “You created a new position in your company just for me?” He readies himself to answer, but I’m not done. “You haven’t seen me in a year, and you want me to come work for you? Just like that?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I had a conversation with my publicist before I came upstairs to wake you. Devlyn is in the news again, drawing negative press. Because she’s so intent in dragging me into her drama, my name is right up there with hers.” He purses his lips in a thin line. “A few weeks after I filed for divorce, my friend Erik suggested I hire a second publicist who specializes in reputation management to look after my best interests. I was about to strangle every reporter out there, so I needed a buffer. Alina Hargrove is a pro, but the incessantgossip is overshadowing my businesses and more importantly, my charity.”
I study him long and hard.
“I own several businesses that employ hard-working New Yorkers who don’t deserve the negative fallout of my crazy ex’s penchant for over-the-top drama. As for my annual charity event, it’s near and close to my heart, and it brings in a lot of money for a worthy cause. All those former hockey players willing to wear the Enforcers jersey and those willing to slip on the Troopers opposing team jersey to help me achieve my altruistic goals. What a shame for all of that to be overshadowed.” He rubs a hand over his face. “If you were to go by what’s mentioned about me and the press, you’d think I spend my days duking it out with my ex. I’m tired of being defined by my divorce and by the fact I bought the winning ticket to the biggest Powerball jackpot in history.”
“So, you did buy the ticket while you were still married?”
“I did.”
“I didn’t take you for a lottery ticket buyer.”
“I’m not. Since Chett and Devlyn are born on the same day, one of the nurses who was looking after my ex-wife when she gave birth at the hospital told her she had to capitalize on those crazy odds. For twenty-four years Devlyn did just that. She would buy two lottery tickets––always Powerball. On the day of her fortieth birthday and Chett’s twenty-fifth, there was a lot going on, and she forgot. On our way to the Hamptons, she started freaking out, demanding I pull off the road. When she explained why, I located a convenience store, and offered to go buy the two tickets. When I got back into my tank, I gave them to her, and because Devlyn feels the need to document every aspect of her life, she asked me to take a photo of her holding the two tickets for her socials. She pulled down the photo, but I still had it on my phone and on my cloud.”
“That was the irrefutable proof half of the winnings were yours even though you had already entered the divorce proceedings when you found out you had won.”
“That, the receipt, and my bank statement,” he says. “Between serving her with divorce papers, her being super manager to Chett, and the fact the captain of the Boston Bandits was screwing her brains out, it took Devlyn a month to remember I had bought the tickets. And when she did, she put the ball in motion to rewrite history.”
“I see. Did you really donate all the money?”
He nods. “Part of the money went to sports programs for youth in under-resourced communities in the five boroughs.”
“Makes sense.”
“I also donated to charities that support New Yorkers experiencing homelessness. Another portion went to the food bank for families struggling to make ends meet. I donated ten million dollars to different literacy programs, including the New York Public Library…” He shifts in his seat. “You’re such an avid reader…” More shifting. “Your love of books drove home the fact that some people don’t have that privilege.”
Oh.
My.
God.
The fact he named an ice cream flavor after me blew my mind, but finding out he donated such a staggering amount of money so New Yorkers who can’t read can learn to lose themselves in a great story turns my insides to mush.
This grump is a cuddly teddy bear in disguise.“I can’t believe you did that.”
“I've told you before, Goldilocks, you made quite the impression.”
I… I’m speechless.
“The larger part of the winnings went to charities that support wounded soldiers across the country, New York first responders, and a small portion to NYPD.”
“Because your annual hockey charity weekend collects a shit ton of money for the men and women in blue.”
“I admire your stalker skills.”
“Like I said, you’re an intriguing man.”
