The proposal, p.30
The Proposal, page 30
“There’s a lot going on right now, so I need to make sure I’m making the right move.”
“You’ve got until Monday morning, if you need it.” His voice hollowed out like a deflated balloon. “Show up at nine and we’ll get you started”
“I appreciate this offer and your help.” Ending the call, I sat back and tried to picture the future I saw for myself.
What did this call mean for me? I’d be back in the spotlight, in a place where I knew what the hell I was doing. I’d be around people who knew what I’d been through and had gone through the same struggles I had transitioning to life after football.
Or, I could build something from the ground up. Be scrappy and fight my way into a business I had no idea about and could barely compete in—but I’d be doing something where I saw the happiness it brought people. Not thousands of fans going crazy in the stands, or producers in a studio, but people celebrating milestones, anniversaries, and happiness.
I was going to need another tin of popcorn.
Torrential rain pounded on the roof of my car. The cold rain matched my own dreariness. I pulled up to the curb, staring at the house that seemed to shrink every time I stopped by.
But a call from my dad was a rarity these days. Bitterness swept through me at the thought of how the phone calls had stopped once the box seats and all-expenses-paid vacations had dried up.
Getting out, I tugged my collar up and rushed to the front door. I knocked, waiting in the pelting freezing rain.
He opened the door with a wide smile and a beer in hand. “Leo, you’re here.”
At least he was happy to see me.
“The check came through just like you said, son. You’re a lifesaver.”
“I’m glad I helped when I could.” I dragged my hat off my head as I stepped through the front door.
“Of course. I won’t keep you too long.” Dad set down his beer and clapped me on both shoulders before muting the TV he hadn’t had last time I was here. The one covering a third of the wall, with a huge sound bar installed below it.
A sinking feeling punched at my gut. Don’t jump to conclusions. Don’t read into things you don’t know are true. Trust him. Isn’t that what I’d harped on Zara for? Don’t always think the worst of someone.
“Is that a new TV?” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder.
He walked around me and stood beside it. “Isn’t it a beauty? Got a great deal.”
His words tamped down some of the ire bubbling up. A deal. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad. He’d found a bargain and couldn’t pass it up. He loved watching every game that came on TV. It was a long-term investment.
“Dad, I could use some advice.” Why was I doing it? And why couldn’t I stop myself? Why did I keep going to this well although every indicator pointed to it being dry?
“I have an offer.”
“With another team?” He threw his arms over head, bowing his back and shouting at the ceiling in celebration. “That’s my boy!”
His pride almost made me wish it were true. Almost. “No. I’m not playing again. It’s not happening. But there’s a commentator spot at Sports Central.”
He gave me an assessing look.
Maybe he’d—
“How much does it pay? Will they give you an advance? If you’re making TV money that could be even better than football money.”
“This isn’t about the money.”
“Of course, it is. Come here.” He smiled over his shoulder, walking down the hall to his office. “Money is the key to happiness.”
I followed behind him, not sure I wanted to hear the rest of this story.
“And money can buy you things like this.” He shoved a brochure in front of my face.
My fingers tightened around the edges of the glossy boat brochure.
“Are you going to rent this for a few days over the summer?” The muscles in my neck tightened, throbbing and pulsing as I struggled to keep my shit together.
“Hell, no. We don’t want something someone else has beat to hell.”
“You bought a boat.” I stared, blinking extra hard to make sure this wasn’t the result of one too many hits to the head.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” He took the brochure from my hand and stared at the shiny paper showcasing the fucking boat he’d bought—I’d bought.
My fists clenched at my sides and anger rolled through me like the waves of a rising tide.
“After the year I’ve had, Faith and I deserved it.” A shit-eating grin spread wide across his face.
He didn’t see one thing wrong with this. All my life, I was an annoyance until I was a meal ticket. A slot machine that always paid out.
“I gave you money to bail out your business. You said the ten guys who work for you would’ve lost their jobs.” I kept the words on a low simmer. If I didn’t keep my voice down, I was going to rip his damn head off. The flash of sadness in Felix’s eyes when I’d told him I couldn’t cover the loan stabbed at my heart like a pair of rusty cleats. He’d told me he understood and gave me a hug before making me promise I’d come to his house for Christmas dinner.
One Sam would be having without him.
And I’d let him down. I’d let them both down.
My dad plowed ahead like he hadn’t ripped my fucking heart out.
“Your bail-out was just what I needed. We’d have had to cut back around here, if you hadn’t come through. Selling the shore house and my two trucks to keep the business afloat wasn’t something I was prepared to do.”
I staggered back like I’d been hit with an illegal tackle. “You still have the shore house?” Anger raced through my veins, searching for an outlet. It was seconds from being my own father’s face.
“Of course I do. We leased a slip down there for the boat. Where else would Faith and I go for our summer vacations?”
“How about nowhere, if you can’t even keep your business afloat? I had plans for that money, Dad.”
“Plans that should’ve included giving your old man a cut of it anyway.” He scoffed. “You wouldn’t be where you are without me. I deserved a piece of the pie too. You were getting stingy with it, but now you’ll be on TV. You won’t even feel a tiny pinch.” His eyes flashed dollar signs, already spending the money I hadn’t made.
Yeah, I’d had my money kept away from me because I was afraid I’d burn through it. But a part of me knew if I had access to it, I’d keep trying to buy my own father’s love and respect. The blinders had been lifted, not only on him, but on me.
“Bull-fucking-shit. You’ve been pulling that guilt trip on me for years, but it’s over now. I’m through with you. I should’ve given that money to Felix. I should never have even given you that last check—hell, I shouldn’t have given you the first one. I won’t make the mistake again. The next time your business is in trouble, I’ll help your employees set up their own business that’s not run by a selfish asshole like you.”
“You’d rather have given that money to my brother over me?”
Out of everything I’d said, he’d homed in on that one detail.
“Yes!” My voice ricocheted throughout the hallway. “Because he wasn’t an inconsiderate asshole. He overleveraged himself helping people who worked for him, not buying a fucking boat and a brand new TV and sound system. And he actually cared about me.”
“I’m your father, goddammit.”
“You could’ve fooled me. But I’m not falling for your bait and switch anymore. That’s the last cent you’ll ever see from me again. Enjoy your boat. It only cost you your son.”
I stormed out of the house, determined to make it the last time the old oak door slammed closed behind me.
Pulling into the garage of my building, my phone buzzed in the cup holder. If this was my dad trying to coax me back, forget it. There wasn’t anything in the world to drag me back there.
“What?”
A sharp gasp was followed by a throat clearing. “Is this Mr. Leo Wilder?”
“Yes, sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
“Is this a bad time? Sam Stark gave me this number to reach you on.”
“No, sorry, it’s fine. I’ve been dealing with some telemarketers lately.”
She chuckled, some of the unease leaving her voice. “I’m calling on behalf of Mr. Waverly from the Waverly Hotels Group. He’d like to have a meeting with you on Monday morning at nine. He’s using the offices at the Winthorpe.”
Waverly Hotels Group. Maybe I could salvage this. If not for me, maybe for Sam and Zara. Maybe everything hadn’t turned into fiery rubble.
I ended the call and rushed back to my apartment, firing up the laptop and researching their hotel development programs. Maybe…
44
Zara
Every step to my office was another flood of emotions. Each step threatened to send me back to my apartment, but even there wasn’t safe.
Stella’s muffled voice on the other side of my door, and Leo’s low rumble, had kept me rooted in place in my living room. He hadn’t tried to use my key. Good. I had the chain on. I couldn’t even afford to change the locks. I buried my face in the couch cushions. The soft, beautiful couch cushions he’d bought me, that only made everything worse. My tears didn’t stop until the timid knock from Stella.
There weren’t enough ice cream sundaes in the world to fix this. Chocolate fudge and sprinkles couldn’t fix a shattered heart.
Messages and calls from Leo filled my screen. My finger hovered above the block button before I broke down and tapped it. But that didn’t stop the messages. Hunter’s phone, Jameson’s phone, August’s phone—each one blocked. Leo even borrowed Everest’s, although they weren’t on the best of terms. Each message ended with the line. “Let me explain.”
Only I couldn’t. Not right now. Every text brought tears to my eyes. A reminder of my own stupidity. Once I figured out what would happen to me and Tyler, then I could—there was nothing. Only a yawning abyss of impossibility when I tried to think of how this could be fixed.
My hands shook with each message to Tyler. I’d wait to tell him. No sense killing his happiness with the news that he wouldn’t be returning next term.
It was Monday morning, when I’d normally already be at the office. Instead, I was in sweats, with stringy, unwashed hair, and sneakers, trudging to the office with my empty box.
The lights flicked on when I arrived. Even at seven, I was still the earliest arrival. After two years of bleeding-from-my-eyes level of work and dedication, losing a client Valerie had already lost got me booted out.
I wrapped up the spare cables for my phone into the cardboard box. Tugging open my drawer, I brushed my hair back from my face and dumped the whole thing into the box. Chapsticks, hair ties, safety pins, bobby pins, tide sticks, and more fell like a shower of preparedness into the box. Except I hadn’t been prepared. How could I have been?
After twenty calls and thirty texts, I’d blocked Leo’s number. My eyes were still red-ringed and puffy. The oversized sweatshirt, sneakers, jeans, and messy bun screamed breakup wardrobe, but I didn’t care. Couldn’t care.
In between crying jags, I’d put in over seventy applications over the past week. And just as I’d known when I got stuck there, it wasn’t what you knew, but who you knew. There hadn’t been a single response. I might as well have been drafting personalized cover letters and lighting them on fire, —which was what I’d probably be doing in another month when I got kicked out of my apartment for not being able to make rent.
All my emails to old college ‘friends’ had also gone unanswered. Dammit, I should’ve networked more. Instead, I’d worked my ass off to graduate on time, and look where that had gotten me.
A grating voice broke through my snuffle-filled solitude. “Did you honestly think you could’ve pulled it off?”
“Not now, Valerie.” I emptied out the last drawer under my desk and picked up the picture frame of me and Ty last summer at a carnival.
“It’s not like you’ll be around to say this to later.” She sauntered into the office with a smug smirk. “I told my dad it was a mistake to put you on the job, but he was trying to teach me a lesson about responsibility. Can I give you a little advice for your next job?”
“Can we not do this?”
“I’m only trying to be helpful.” She put on a sugary sweet voice, but glee danced in her eyes.
My stomach knotted.
She was enjoying the hell out of this. “Your little lie about being engaged to Leo. You should’ve seen Kathleen’s face when I told—”
I slammed the box down on my former desk. My back snapped straight, shock ricocheting down my spine.
“You told Kathleen.” Blind fury clouded the edges of my vision. Blood hammering in my veins, making it hard to hear any of the sputtering and stammering before her cool mask slipped back into place.
“You screwed your own father out of a possibly million-dollar client all to get back at me.” I jammed my finger into the center of my chest. “You ruined a man’s business because of your petty, jealous bullshit. You can walk in here with your designer bags, overpriced coffee, and plastic smile, and pretend you’re trying to be helpful, but you’re not a nice person. I should’ve known when you introduced yourself the first day by telling me you hated people and everyone thought you were a nightmare.” I tapped my finger against my chin. “Now, why would anyone would say that about you? Probably because you are. You’ve been riding Daddy’s coattails, fucking things up left and right. I am so happy I don’t have to clean up after your messes anymore.” I slammed the lid down on the box and hefted it into my arms.
There was a flicker of self-reflection on her face—or maybe it was gas. She crossed her arms over her chest without moving an inch when I stood in front of her with the box in my arms. But I wasn’t her lackey anymore and I didn’t have to bow down to her or kiss her ass.
“That’s some other person’s job now, which means I also don’t have to listen to you gloat. So go right ahead with what you’re doing, but some day Daddy won’t be there to cover for you, and who’s going to want to give a job to a…” I wracked my brain for the perfect description.
Andi popped up from her cubicle with her hand in the air, jumping up and down like a first grader who needed to use the bathroom. “Towering thundercunt?”
“I was going to go with bitch, but I like yours much better.”
A drawer opened and closed behind Andi’s cubicle wall, and she stepped out of her cube wearing a feather boa and tiara and fell in line with me as I walked to the elevator.
“I told you I had these at the ready for the day you finally cracked. And you get a gold star.” She pulled out a shiny gold sheet of star stickers out of her back pocket and stuck it to my chest. “What? It motivates my team.”
A screech sounded behind us. It seemed Valerie was finally unfrozen. “Andi, you think you can talk to me that way?”
Andi shrugged. “I don’t think I can. I just did,” she called out over her shoulder.
“I’m telling my father.” Valerie flipped her hair and stormed off.
“Run to Daddy.” Leaning against the wall beside the elevator, she jabbed the button and propped up the bottom of her foot against the wall.
“I can’t imagine that’s going to go well for you.”
The vapor trail Valerie had streaking to her dad’s office created a vacuum of swirling papers in the hallway.
“After all this time, I’m ready to go. Plus, my entire team will follow me if Bill gives me any shit. I’ve been headhunted at least twenty times over the past few years, so I have options.”
“Why would anyone with options stay in this place?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and squinted. “The food’s good, the guys I work with are cool, the coffee’s shit, but the pay is fine. It’s also got the bonus of fucking with Valerie, and you’re my best work friend. I don’t have many girlfriends. So it was all good while it lasted.”
I dropped the box, opened my arms and pulled her into a hug. I’d never had anyone who’d stay somewhere for me. Things made so much more sense and it broke my heart that it had taken me this long to see how good a friend she’d been to me. My go-to vent buddy. The person who could say the things I never could when I’d clung to this job.
After a second she hugged me back. “Some days, you were the only thing that made me not want to fling myself in front of a taxi. We’re hanging out.” I let her go. “Drinks, although you’ll have to pay since I’m unemployed now.” There wasn’t a hint of sadness or worry in her voice. Her catlike reflexes would ensure she had a safe comfortable landing somewhere way better than here.
Guilt gnawed at my gut a little that she’d put up with this place as long as she had, at least partly because of me.
“Drinks are on me. Although, I’m unemployed as well, so happy hour special for the win.”
The elevator arrived and I stepped inside.
“Wait.” Andi stood in the way of the door. “Why would you be unemployed? I’d have thought Stark would’ve picked you up in a heartbeat. You and Leo worked well together.”
“It’s a long story.”
“One you can tell me over drinks.” The elevator doors closed, banging into her shoulders. “Tonight.”
“Tonight really isn’t—”
An annoyed chirp sounded from the elevator as the doors tried to close again. Andi shoved her elbows out to keep the door from closing.
Heads popped up from their cubicles to see why the elevator was now screaming like it was being murdered. “I will literally stand here until the end of time. I’m not the best at making friends, especially not girl friends, and I don’t want to lose you as one, Zara.” Her gaze was intent. “Tonight.”
“Yes. Tonight.” Maybe I could invite Stella too. There had to be a happy hour somewhere with half-priced drinks.
“Awesome. My first ever girls’ night.” Unwedging herself, she stepped back, waving with a wide smile as the doors closed. Over her shoulder, a fuming Bill and Valerie stormed toward her.
