There were another four women of a certain age group all working together at a couple of sewing machines. The fabric practically flying.
There was definitely a vibe. A creative, weirdly energizing, scents-like-leather-glue-and-masculinity kind of vibe.
And there were puppies.
The design studio side of the industrial space had been transformed into a workshop-slash-fever dream—if said fever also came with a whole lotta puppies, a group of elderly assistants, and a minor fire code violation due to the sheer number of people present.
Zach stood nearby, mid-conversation with a tattooed tight end who looked like he could bench-press a Harley. Zach was animated and easy, gesturing toward a cluster of mannequins styled in Wild Sacks boxer briefs.
He had his sleeves rolled up and a pencil behind one ear. One of the elderly assistants handed him a binder—something suspiciously like her own—and he flipped through it like it contained the secrets of the universe.
He looked in charge. Not of people, though.
Of ideas. Of energy. Of the strange magic that came when chaos was guided by someone who genuinely believed in the madness.
The playlist in the background was a mix of hyped-up beats with basslines that lived in her sternum. It skipped once, and Babushka hollered that she "vould fix it."
"Fixing it" was apparently blaring "Pony" by Ginuwine as one of the helpers knocked over the decorative arch of footballs.
And near the food table, someone was trying to coax a puppy off a table with a food spread using what appeared to be a granola bar and whispered assurances of freedom.
Piper shook her head. "There really are puppies."
"I told you there would be," Zach mumbled, stepping toward her and staring straight at her as he said, "Hi."
"Hi," she replied staring right back.
"Hey." Tess whistled with two fingers between her lips. "When you're done with your fitting, hand off the underwear to Peggy."
"Is that her grandma, Peggy?" Piper whispered.
Zach nodded. "Babushka's friend. They're helping out given the lack-of-Tess-staff at the moment."
Tess glanced over to Zach and clearly caught sight of Piper because she immediately waved. She strode over as if nothing was remotely out of the ordinary and there weren't half-naked football players strutting everywhere.
"Piper!" she said, infusing the word with excitement. "Welcome to the cross-promotional activation for the official undergarment partner of the Denver Stallions. Wild Sacks!"
"Uh…" Piper stared at the room. There was probably something she was supposed to say here.
"She means we're the official underwear of the Stallions," Zach nudged.
Piper turned to Zach and did her best impression of utter surprise. "Get out! For real?"
"And we're being used as a distraction because nothing says ditch the superstition and look the other way quite like men in their underwear," Zach continued.
"Exactly." Tess rubbed her hands together, then hugged herself.
A tiny smirk peeked out the side of Zach's mouth. "Also, I thought NDAs were in place, Tess?"
"Piper's covered." Tess blew out her breath. "Besides, the grandmothers are all here, and I trust Piper way more than them. NDAs are the least of my concerns."
"Well, in that case, Piper, welcome to the official engagement distraction," Zach said.
"Definitely a distraction," Piper agreed.
Tess held her hands up like she was telling a story. "Imagine?—"
Oh, I don't have to.
