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I tapped my lip. “Before we continue, you will be in my calendar, right?”
He rolled his eyes, put his head back, and groaned, “Ugh! Yes.”
“And you’ll help me get the rest of the athletes?”
“Yes,” he said as if it pained him.
“Who?” I was not going to let him slide from this.
He sighed, “Um, I can ask Alec DeVry.”
“The NASCAR racer?”
“Yes. We did a few celebrity golf tournaments together. He comes out a few times a year to ski.”
“And?” I rolled my hand.
“Can we get back to talking about the trip?”
“No, I need a few more. What about that skier that lives in town? The one in all those Ralph Lauren ads?”
“Tucker Hood?”
“Yeah, you’re friends with him, aren’t you? You can ask him.”
He raised his eyebrows at my statement. “I can?”
“Yes. And do you know anyone else? Anyone from your team?”
“I have a college buddy, Case Kennedy, I can ask him.”
“Is he an athlete?”
“No, but he’s rich.”
I dropped the pen on the table. “It’s supposed to be a ‘sexy men of sports’ calendar, Jacob.”
“Would it help if I told you he owns a Minor League Baseball team?
“Oh, the Case Kennedy. Yum. Absolutely!”
He ignored my sigh. “Can we please get back to the trip? I have a business to run.”
He talked through the itinerary, the meal plan, and who would be in which boats.
“You remember how to paddle, right?”
“Of course, I do. Just because I choose not to raft, doesn’t mean I don’t know how. You don’t need to worry about me, Jacob. You taught me well.”
He ignored my reference to our past and continued.
“And pack your things in a backpack, not your Louis Vuitton suitcase. If you do, you’ll need to sign a liability waiver that Brooks Outfitters isn’t responsible for damages.”
I tilted my head, “Har-har.”
He chuckled.
I asked again, “How many are on this trip?”
