“Of course. Mr. Winters is looking forward to speaking with your magazine and telling his story.”
“Especially after today. That was quite acoupto grab Milo Masterson. I watched the press conference.”
“Then you’ll hear more of the same from Mr. Winters.”
Fontana’s laugh boomed in his ear. “How is next Monday at noon?”
He checked Armi’s calendar. “I’ll put you in and make it a lunch meeting.”
“Shane will be happy.”
“We aim to please.”
“I have to say, you’re a great cheerleader for your boss. Maybe we should interview you as well.”
He met Armi’s eyes. “I am when I believe in someone. And I’m pretty boring. There’s nothing interesting about me.”
**
The week sped by, and Hayden found himself busier than he had ever been while working for Boris. He and Armi sat together with the publicity team and came up with sound bites and quotes they could send out to the media and national press. There were phone calls with other owners, which Armi asked him to be present for. An appearance with the team, which had started pre-season practice, and more interviews with the press. Hayden could see Armi’s confidence growing with each day, but still, whenever he came face-to-face with Russell and the other members of the Kings’ inner circle, he wilted like a week-old rose.
Saturday, lying on his couch, checking social media for any mention of the Kings, he received a text from Armi.
Do you have plans for dinner tonight? Sorry it’s spur-of-the-moment. I’ve been meaning to ask you all week, but it’s been so busy.
That was so like him. Always apologizing.
Sure. What time and where?
Le Bernardin at 8?
Hayden’s breath caught. One of the best restaurants in the world and the hardest reservation to get—near impossible on the same day. Unless you came from the world of Armi Winters, where money and status talked.
Hayden? U there?
Yeah. Meet u there.
No. I’ll pick you up.
Hayden scrambled to his feet. He’d sent all his shirts to the cleaners along with his three suits, and they weren’t supposed to be delivered until tomorrow. He needed to make a clothing run and fast.
“Next stop, Bloomies.”
He managed to find a decent suit on sale, and he could always use another white shirt. His one splurge was a nice tie, and he dug through the designer sale rack and picked out a bright-green silk.
“Just like your eyes,” the sales associate cooed. “Such a pretty green.”
“Thanks.” He took the shopping bags from the man.
“Hot date?”
He thought for a moment. “No. Dinner with my boss.”
“Could be the same thing.” A knowing grin tugged at the salesman’s lips.
“No. It’s definitely not.”
Hayden rushed home, dropped off his shopping bags, and left immediately to get a manicure. No handling the forks and knives with scraggly cuticles. He might not’ve come from much, but he did have some standards.
