CHAPTER 10
I point to the giant white tent on the left. “That’s the hospitality tent,” I say, and the line of workers holding trays of food disperses in that direction.
I fold my arms over my chest and survey my work.
In the last three weeks, I’ve slept very little as I’ve worked my ass off to get this event off the ground. We’re scheduled to have twenty-seven members of the Vegas Aces in attendance, eight other football players, a bunch of Aces staff—including the team owner—and, of course, Luke’s brother, and most attendees are bringing dates or even entire families with them. I ended up reserving three huge tents and a few smaller ones, too. One of the big tents is filled with sand boxes and toys and smaller versions of the adult cornhole games set up to entertain the kids. We also have two bounce houses—one for kids four and under, the other for kids five and over. The hospitality tent has tables and chairs along with food served buffet style and drinks, and the third large tent is where the tournament will take place.
The smaller tents are the places where cornhole players will register and donations will be taken. The park has bathrooms, so I didn’t even have to worry about that part of throwing a party.
Air coolers are set up in each of the tents, and while it’s going to reach a blazing hot one hundred six degrees today, the coolers are definitely helping. I’d briefly considered having this event at Luke’s house—our house—but decided this park was way better. A huge playground sits not too far away from us, and on the other side of the park is a splash pad to cool off the kids. It’s a perfect example of the types of things Luke wants to build with the money he raises today.
And it all starts in less than an hour.
I draw in a deep breath as I look around.
I’ve done all I can do at this point. I’ve delegated every task I could think of to delegate, including hiring an official event photographer—but I’m still going to focus on taking pictures of Luke. I need as much footage as I can to show the community how much they need him here in Vegas.
Luke is in the tournament tent working with the men we hired to serve as our referees. Josh is with him, and Nicki is in the hospitality tent helping out there. I check on everybody, make sure nobody needs anything, and then I glance up and see the first of our guests as they start to arrive.
This is really happening.
My heart races.
I head to the hospitality tent for a cold bottle of water. It’s showtime.
I grab Luke and the two of us walk toward the registration desk hand-in-hand to greet Luke’s celebrity friends as they enter the First Annual Dalton Celebrity Cornhole Tournament to benefit the Luke and Ellie Dalton Foundation.
That’s right. The Luke and Ellie Dalton Foundation.
That’s what he wanted to name it. He said it wouldn’t exist without my idea or the contributions I’ve made, and he thought it was important for my name to appear on the marquee.
I was too excited to turn him down, but what happens in a year from now when our contract is up? What if my last name isn’t Dalton anymore?
I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.
“Hey, Fletch,” he says to the guy I recognize as Brandon Fletcher, the quarterback I met at the ball we attended together. A different woman is on his arm, dressed in freaking jeans and heels when we’re at an outdoor tournament in a park. For my own part, I’m wearing a Dalton shirt, shorts, and sneakers. It’s what Luke wanted, and he’s in shorts and a t-shirt, too. We’re comfortable, as opposed to the last charity event we attended together.
Luke introduces me as his wife to his teammates, and it’s absolutely surreal that I’m even here right now. I recognize Nadine, Krista, and Leah, the football wives who were Nicki’s bridesmaids, when they come in with their football player husbands.
When I spot Calvin as he makes his way toward the registration table, the woman on his arm surely can’t be Michelle’s mother. She might not even be as old as Michelle, to be honest.
I push the negative, judgmental thoughts away. It’s not my place to judge someone else’s relationship.
It just seems a little hypocritical that he expects Luke to give up his own happiness to be with Michelle when Cal himself is with someone who’s not the mother of his own children (but who is probably in the same age range as his own children).
I’m sure they’re desperately in love. I’m sure it has nothing to do with his money.
“Mr. Bennett!” Luke says brightly when Calvin gets to the front of the line. “We’re so pleased you could make it.”
Too much brightness, Luke. Dial it down a notch. We’re not that happy he’s here.
“This looks to be an incredible event. We’re always thrilled to do our part to help the community. Isn’t that right, darling?” he says to his date.
“Yes, of course,” she says.
“Ensuring every kid has a fair shot to play sports is important to me,” Luke says.
Calvin gives him an unreadable glance. “As long as your own kids come first,” he murmurs, taking a bit of a shot.
“Of course,” Luke says simply, and speak of the damn devil, up walk Jack and his date.
I blow out a breath as I recognize the woman on his arm.
Michelle.
“You might’ve chosen a hotter day for this,” Jack says in lieu of a hello, and the criticism isn’t lost on me. God, I hope Luke hits him in the balls with a beanbag.
Sort of like I did to Luke on accident that time.
“Daddy!” Michelle says, rushing up to Calvin and throwing her arms around him.
“Shelly,” he says affectionately, patting her on the back as she clings to him. “Have you been taking your vitamins?” he asks.
“Of course, Daddy,” she says, and the sweet factor is beyond fake as she glances over at Luke to gauge his reaction to her even being here. “And I have an appointment this week. Jack said he’d come with me since he’ll still be in town. Isn’t that so sweet of him?”
Calvin purses his lips. “So Jack, the brother of the father, will be there? What about the actual father?” He glances in Luke’s direction.
“Of course I’ll be there,” he says quickly. “In fact, both Ellie and I are thrilled to go.” He grabs my hand.
I knew nothing about this appointment, but I nod and fake my way through it just like everyone else in this conversation seems to be doing. “We just need Michelle to fill us in on the exact time, date, and location.” I smile sweetly, and then I completely change the subject. “Thank you all again for being here. We’re so excited to raise money for this very important cause.” It’s my way of ushering them through the line.
And then, as if these people showing up at the same time wasn’t enough, Savannah makes her way toward the table.
Why the hell did I think it was a good idea to invite them?
CHAPTER 11
To my extreme surprise, Savannah remains professional through the entire tournament, but I can’t help wondering the whole time what, exactly, she has on the Dalton brothers and if I’ll ever find out the truth. She basically ignores me, which is fine, and she takes notes throughout the day, which tells me that maybe she’ll write an article about the event. I hope she does because any exposure for the foundation is good exposure.