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More than good.
It’s outstanding.
Fuck, I mean Dad wouldn’t have let me design this season’s line for Verity & Co. if it wasn’t. Nor would Jin.
I just can’t help feeling that I’m not the son he hoped for. Like I’m that kid who wanted to play guitar instead of being a lawyer.
Who joined a rock band and did pretty well.
There’s not really much more I can do with my career except take on the head design role.
Jin is immortal, I’m sure of it.
So, this award is important. It recognizes me as an expert by industry experts, not my family.
I need to show my father I can win this.
I need the industry to reflect back to me the respect they have for my designs.
Not just be one of the Montgomery boys. I’m sick of being the average one. Which, when Levi gets drafted into the NFL, I will.
So I need this award.
I need to be the fucking best. I need that stupid fucking statue sitting in my stupid fucking office just so I don’t feel average.
While standing among giants.
And I’m not waiting ten years to get it.
“Okay,” the woman from the winery says to our group, using her hands to encourage us to gather around her. “Who’s played pétanque before?”
Everyone shakes their head.
She looks around the group studying us.
“First off. It’s a low-key game.” She picks up one of the silver round balls and lets it hang at her side.
Then swings it like her arm is a pendulum.
“We don’t throw it,” she warns, and Hunter snorts.
She glares at him.
Beside me Blake chuckles silently.
“We toss it,” she explains.
“That’s what she said,” Levi says, and I let out a snort.
Molly slaps my abs, and I grab her wrist, then drop it when Knox side-eyes me.
But for those seconds feeling the heat of her soft skin was almost enough.
Almost.
I’m not sure I’ll ever have enough of her.
“How do we win?” Daniel asks. “Points? Knocking the other balls out of the way? What?”
