2. Spencer Charles
SPENCER CHARLES
Day One
Being on a trip where the entire intention was to entice and cajole millionaires and billionaires into donating money was not on my Bingo card for ways I wanted to spend my summer.
Not that I was against charitable giving.
I wasn’t. I was against bullshit. Spending millions to entice people to give millions was counterproductive in my opinion.
Beckenbracken could’ve just donated the millions he spent to entice the people he brought to this resort.
Whatever. I was only present as a favor to my godmother, Micole, who was married to the GM.
She’d begged me to come when a player dropped out, and they couldn’t get anyone to agree to replace him.
I hated to fold, because I didn’t really do crowds.
People thought, as an athlete, I was boisterous and outgoing.
That was some other athlete. I was more introspective and observant.
I hadn’t always been that way. When I picked up a ball for the first time in Pop Warner, I was both boisterous and rowdy.
I was loud, energetic, outspoken, and outgoing.
But then I got good. My skills improved, and I started to experience success.
That was when I realized that people were often fake and had their own motivations.
I learned first-hand what the term, “fair weather fans” truly meant.
I closed myself off right after middle school. That was when the walls went up, and it became difficult to get close to me on more than a surface level. That was when I stopped allowing access to people whose agendas I wasn’t certain of.
When the morning meet and greet finally ended, I was happy as hell.
I’d spent two hours standing next to Preston Wilcox, the running back.
He was also one of my least favorite players on the team.
I’d never had any real run-ins with him.
His attitude just sucked ass. He was arrogant, insecure, mouthy, and inconsistent.
He also had an ego as big as the conference room we were in.
All morning long, I’d watched him inappropriately touch prospective donors’ wives and girlfriends.
I listened to him say things to women he didn’t know that I wouldn’t say to a sexual partner.
I spent a lot of time shaking my head at his antics, but the women didn’t seem to mind.
A lot of them giggled and responded in kind.
Right up until he tried it with the beautiful woman in the floral dress.
Wilcox said something about her thigh meat, and I saw her eyes go wide.
I wanted to step in, but before I could, the flash of the photographer’s camera went off, and she was backing away from him, right into me.
When our eyes met, I felt a fucking chill go down my spine.
She was too damn pretty. Her skin was a deep, rich chocolate brown that was creamy and flawless.
It was the dimples and the brown eyes that did me in, though.
The girl was gorgeous. I could see why Wilcox tried to shoot his shot, but I couldn’t understand why he was so damn bad at it.
She had practically bolted from the room.
Back in my suite, I changed out of the clothes I wore to the meet and greet.
Ownership had actually been bold enough to give us what they called a dress protocol.
While they weren’t requiring us to wear suits to every event, they definitely were against us wearing streetwear and sneakers, which was what most of us wore during our downtime.
Next up for me was a wine and cheese tasting.
I hope they got something to eat besides cheese, I thought to myself as I exchanged the light-colored slacks I’d worn to the meet and greet for black linen pants and a matching color-blocked polo.
I slid into my loafers and left my room, wondering both about food and about whether or not I’d get a chance to see old girl from the meet and greet again. She was bad as hell.
The expectation of the wine and cheese tasting was probably for the players to mix and mingle.
Ownership probably would’ve really liked it if we walked right up to random guests and engaged them, asked them about their favorite pinot noir or some shit like that.
That wasn’t me. I wasn’t one to walk up to strangers and start conversations.
Besides that, I was hungry as hell. They had me doing a meet and greet for three hours and didn’t even feed me. What type of shit was that?
I walked slowly around the space. It wasn’t very crowded.
I mean, it wasn’t empty by any stretch, but the crowd was manageable .
. . even for me. I looked for meat. The first table I stopped at offered wagyu beef thinly sliced, gouda cheese, thin sourdough crackers, and a Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon.
I grabbed a little saucer and the tongs and fixed myself something.
The sommelier handed me a small glass of wine. “As you enjoy the beef and the cheese, make sure to take in the complimentary deep, dark flavors of the wine. You’ll taste the fruits—blackberries and plums. You might also taste hints of vanilla.”
I nodded and thanked him. The truth was that I was too damn hungry to savor the flavors.
I just needed something to keep my stomach from touching my back.
Not only that, I didn’t even like wine. I wolfed down the food before I’d even gotten away from his table.
I couldn’t lie, though. The beef paired with the gouda on the little cracker was fye.
I wished I’d grabbed more than just three.
I set the untouched glass of wine and my empty saucer on a tray designated for trash, and I started to move away when I bumped into something short and soft.
I looked down and came face to face with the beauty that Wilcox had been harassing at the meet and greet. She was in the same green floral dress, but she’d traded the high-heeled sandals for sneakers.
I reached out and grabbed her lightly after the impact. “My bad.”
She looked up at me as a shy small smile came across her shiny pale pink lips. “Sorry.”
“Nah, that was all me,” I assured her. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. You cool?”
“I feel like you keep having to ask me that. And yeah, I’m cool.”
“Good. Good.” I kept staring at her like a creep, but for some reason, she had me stuck. I finally snapped out of it. “Uh, I’m Spence. Spencer, but I prefer to be called Spence.”
She smiled. “Soleil.”
I smiled back. “Okay. Sun. That tracks.”
“You know the meaning of my name?”
“Yeah.” I ran my hand over the waves on my head. “Yeah. My parents are from the island of Martinique. They made sure that I spoke French as well as I speak English. Your family French?”
“My mama was from Chicago, but my daddy’s French creole.
New Orleans. He says when I was born, I lit up his life like the sun.
” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my gosh. I don’t know why I just told you that.
I don’t know why I’m holding you up. I’m sure you have people to see and places to go. ”
“Nah.” I shook my head back and forth in the negative. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be. I mean, I’m right where I’m scheduled to be. Wine and cheese tasting from 2:00 p.m. until 4:00 p.m.”
“Have you tasted anything good so far?”
I looked down at her again. “Nah. You wanna explore?”
She swallowed, then seemed to compose herself. “Yeah, okay.”
“What’s your favorite wine?”
She scoffed, and it was cute. “To be honest, I don’t even like wine.”
“A woman after my own heart,” I said after chuckling lightly. “You don’t drink?”
“Um, tequila.”
I laughed aloud. “A woman after my own heart.”
She chuckled. “Actually, I saw that this was up next on the itinerary. There was this, a meet and greet with four different players, a tour of the brand-new golf course, or a movie about the proposed wing that Mr. Beckenbracken is planning to add to the children’s hospital.
This seemed like the best option for me. ”
“You hungry? We could always base our choices on which tables to hit up on the food.”
“I’m starving. Let’s do that.”
“I just had the wagyu beef and some crackers.”
“Some crackers? They don’t have any bread? I’m hungry. I’m trying to make a sandwich.”
I laughed again. “I can see why your father says that you bring the sunshine.”
“Technically, that’s not what he says.”
“Doesn’t make it any less true.” I shrugged my shoulders.
She stared at me.
“I see some bread on that table.” I steered us toward a table with about four people already around it.
The sign read that the offerings were thinly sliced turkey breast, fontina cheese, sliced baguette, apricot jam, and pear slices.
I handed Soleil a saucer then took one for myself.
We both added food to our plates while the other guests asked informed questions about the wine.
Without even taking glasses of the clear liquid, we shuffled away from the group. We found an empty high-top table. A few of them had been scattered sparingly around the room.
“Ooh, this is good,” she said after taking a bite of her quickly composed sandwich.
“What’d you do?”
“I spread some of that jam on the bread, then added the turkey and the cheese. I might have to try to recreate this at home.”
I made my mini sandwich the same way she said she did it then took a bite. “Damn. This is good as hell. That jam adds a sweetness, and the cheese is—”
“Creamy, right?” she jumped in.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I’m thirsty. You think we’re gonna have to break down and get some wine?”
“Nah, they have water.”
I walked over to the area where they had stationed oversized galvanized buckets filled with bottled water on ice. I grabbed each of us a bottle, then rejoined her.
She glanced up at me as she took a long sip. “I’m so wishing that I would’ve just gotten in your line at the meet and greet. It would’ve been so much more of a pleasant experience.”
“Wilcox rubbed you the wrong way?”
“His mouth is reckless. I really didn’t like what he said to me.
You’re more my speed.” She practically choked, coughing while I lightly rubbed her back.
“Oh my gosh,” she said when she finally caught her breath.
“I’m as bad as Wilcox with the reckless mouth.
I didn’t mean that the way it came out, Spencer. ”
“Call me Spence. And what did you mean?”
“I didn’t mean you’re more my speed. I meant that you probably handled the women in your line with common courtesy and manners. You probably weren’t sexually suggestive or rude.”
“I wasn’t. I try my best to make my mother proud.”
She giggled.
“She stayed on my neck. She was always like, character is what you do when I’m not around.” I mimicked her slight island accent.
“She sounds like a good mom.”
“She is. But I’m kinda glad you didn’t come to my line this morning. I probably would’ve held it up, trying to learn more about you. I held it up as it was staring at you in Wilcox’s line.”
She wiped her mouth with a small napkin. “Staring at me? What?” Her cheeks colored with a slight blush.
I shrugged. “You looked like class and elegance.” I took her in again. “You still do. Even though you traded your sandals for sneakers, you still look like class and elegance.”
“Thank you.” Her words were practically a whisper.
A voice broke out over the chatter of the room. “We want to thank you for stopping by this tasting of wine and cheese with us, sponsored by the good folks over at Ellis-Morgan Vineyards. The sommeliers will be available for questions and tastings for the next thirty minutes. Please enjoy.”
“Damn, an hour and a half went by quick.”
“In the words of Janet Jackson, it’s funny how times flies when you’re having fun.”
I smiled at her. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”
“You’re welcome.” She was blushing.
“Uh, I have a dinner obligation. Team shit.” I took a deep breath. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt nervous about asking a woman to spend time with me. But the thought that she might reject my offer was already messing with me. “Will you be at the beach bonfire later?”
She answered my question with a question. “Will you?”
“Yeah.”
She smiled. “Maybe I’ll see you there. It was nice meeting you, Spence.”
“It was nice meeting you too, Sun.”
She giggled, gave me a small wave, and disappeared.