Page 70 of Winning Match
Javi grins. “Good. Because this is a great opportunity for you to show your ability to lead the team, to step up for a greater cause.”
I dip my head in understanding. He’s basically telling me not to fuck this up. I bite the corner of my mouth to keep from grinning. Finally, a chance to rectify old wrongs, an opportunity to do the thing I set out to do when I first asked Marlowe to be my fake girlfriend.
Javi sighs. “Get out of here, García. I’ll email you the dates and additional info.”
I thank him and hustle to my car, not wanting to be late for Bianca.
“Wow,” I murmur when I enter the bar.
Since Bianca works here, she was able to arrange the private party on short notice. That and I’m sure she dropped Luca’s and my names. Not that I care; I’m grateful for any help in pulling off something special for Marlowe.
“You did a great job, B.” I glance around the space.
High-top tables are covered in hot pink tablecloths, pink and white flowers in little white vases atop each one. There’s a floral arrangement comprising a huge number twenty-seven next to the bar in addition to a balloon banner and a dessert table that is prepared with various candlesticks, cake trays, and decor to display the desserts I ordered.
Bianca beams. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I think Marlowe will love it. What can I help with?” I toss my jacket on the back of a chair and begin rolling up my sleeves.
Bianca shoots me a mischievous smirk.
“What?” I ask hesitantly.
“You can start there.” She points to a karaoke machine with two microphones.
“Bianca,” I groan, dropping my head back.
“What? It’s going to be great!”
“It’s going to be something.”
20
Marlowe
“I look forward to working together,” I say, shaking José’s hand firmly.
“As do I.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “We’ll touch base by the end of the week.”
I nod in agreement, before exiting José’s office. With my head held high, I stride from the building, my pace measured, even as my heart gallops. Once I turn the corner of the street, I rest my back against a building and nearly sag with relief.
Pulling out my phone, I text Grandpa.
Marlowe
Costa is in.
I did it. José Costa agreed to partner with Prescott Sail for his expedited delivery and, depending on how things progress, work with us in the future. He dangled the carrot of having Prescott fulfill the order for six new keelboats, four of them of the J70 class.
Relief whirls through me, twisting in the pit of my stomach as the adrenaline I’ve been clinging to for days, weeks, months slowly dissipates.
I pull in a breath, perhaps the first full breath I’ve taken in months where Prescott Sail is concerned. Laughing to myself, I rest my head back against the building and look up, the vista slamming into me.
The sky is a deep blue, even though it’s nearly seven p.m. Palm trees sway in the light breeze the evening hours kick up, their fronds strong and powerful. The beautiful buildings swirl around me—rich in history, stunning in architecture, playful in color. And the energy of the city—calm and relaxed, fun and thrilling, centered on community and connection—pulses in my veins, reminding me that this is my life.
Right now, I live here. I’m the girlfriend of Alejandro García. I closed the deal with José Costa.
And it’s my twenty-seventh birthday.
