Page 8 of Eye of the Hurricane (Weathering Doves Harbor #2)

Katherine

Luna

The Sand tonight?

Katherine

Nope, my fun is weekend specific now.

Luna

No fun :(

Katherine

Tell me about it.

Luna

How was your “not date” with Ares?

I lock my phone, shoving it in my purse with a huff of air. Luna’s my best friend in the world but sometimes I wish I had privacy. I’m as much to blame for it as she is. I could just refuse to tell her things. Instead I spill all my beans to her like I’m fifteen.

I smooth out my dress and walk into the double doors of the athletics facility. It’s one giant building that houses most of DHU’s sports teams. I have a moment to take some breaths and clear my head because the hockey team’s offices are located all the way in the back.

Jacob is leaning against the frame of his office door when I get there, seemingly waiting for me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was late. I know that I’m not, though, because I follow a strict policy of ‘if you’re not ten minutes early, you’re late’.

“I’m not late, am I?”

“No, you’re never late. In fact, you’re a full twenty minutes early,” he says, glancing at the watch on his wrist.

“Thought so, but the way you were waiting in the door had me nervous.”

“Just excited to talk to you about something. Unrelated to the job for South Carolina this time.”

There’s an overwhelming sense of relief knowing that South Carolina won’t be the forefront of today’s focus. I find that I’m disappointed with myself for thinking that. I’ve never had this anxiety about my dreams before.

I follow him into his office and take a seat on the other side of his desk. He sits down across from me and slides me a green folder.

“It’s the marketing idea you gave us last spring, when Alan was in charge. I know he shut you down but he never actually threw out the paperwork you provided.”

I remember it like it was yesterday. Last spring, Alan Evans was the PR manager and Jacob was his assistant.

It was his last year as the head of PR and Alan was exceptionally not thrilled to be working with a woman.

When you’re a woman in such a male-dominated field, you get a sort of radar for those who don’t like you because you’re you and those who don’t like you because you’re a woman.

I always got the sense that he didn’t like me because I’m a woman. Especially when I handed him a fully fleshed-out PR marketing plan and he didn’t even look at it. He simply sat the papers behind him and said, “Why don’t you leave this kind of stuff to us? You can focus on the social media stuff.”

He never specified who ‘us’ was, but I knew it was the men on staff. At the time, there was one other woman working with the team and she switched majors before the year was over.

“I can’t believe this still exists.” I flip through the pages. It’s a complete blueprint of how I would manage a team.

I never expected Alan to take on the entire plan, I made that very clear. At the very least, I thought he might look it over. At best I thought he might look it over and implement parts of it.

“I read it over, I think if we implement this until you shadow over there and it goes well, it could look really good on you.” My heart squeezes.

It’s the feeling of being taken seriously in my field, something Jacob has always done for me.

The day Alan left him in charge, my life became infinitely easier.

“What if it doesn’t go well? That will not look good on me.”

“It’ll go well. I wish I thought of this plan myself. It’s not too different from the changes I made anyway.”

“Are you sure about this?” I ask. I hope he can’t hear the nerves in my voice.

“I’m sure about it. But I won’t go forward with it without your permission. These are your plans and I won’t put them into place without you.”

“Let’s do it.”

“Really?” he asks excitedly. I nod.

“I think we should look it over together and see if anything should be updated. Other than that, I can’t think of anything more exciting.”

“Do you have the time now?”

“As long as there isn’t anything you need me doing with the team today,” I reply.

“Let’s focus on this. The sooner we can get this implemented, the more time we’ll have to see how it does.”

We spend the entire afternoon ironing out the details of the plans I wrote out for the team over a year ago.

Some things I proposed had already been put in place, like Jacob said, so we looked at ways to improve those changes moving forward.

The PR and marketing plan is getting a complete upgrade and I’m at the forefront of it.

I’m practically jumping and skipping out of the building by the time I’m leaving. I don’t even roll my eyes when some soccer player wolf whistles at me.

The second I’m in my car, I dial Luna’s number. She picks up instantly.

“Luna, I had the best day!” I exclaim. I’m sitting in my car by myself smiling ear to ear like an idiot.

“What happened?”

So I tell her everything. I tell her about writing the plans up a year and a half ago. I tell her about Alan brushing me off. I tell her about Jacob finding them. I tell her that he’s giving me the chance of a lifetime, on top of the good word he’s giving to the Sea Dragons on my behalf.

By the time I’m done gushing about how great my day was, I’m already home and comfy on the couch with a glass of wine that I poured myself while we were still talking.

Luna and I hung up a while ago, but I’m still buzzing with excitement about my day. There’s so much excitement about the next few weeks that it’s hard to place the anxiety I felt consumed with just this morning.

A little voice in my head pipes up telling me to call my mom. The voice is about six years old and she wants to tell her mommy the good news. She has no idea that her mommy doesn’t want her dreams to come true or that all she thinks she’s good for is being a wife.

It’s a realization I have to choke down every time I have big news. Somehow, it never gets easier.

I think most people would find having a small circle harder in tough times. I find the good times to be much harder, especially in the family sense. I never want to run to my mom and cry about tough times. Maybe because that was never an option. She was never emotionally available enough for that.

Something still gnaws at me when things are great or exciting, though. For whatever reason, I still want to call her and tell her about it. I don’t know if it’s sadder that a little part of me still wishes she would celebrate with me, or that I’ve accepted that she never will.

I swallow down the feeling and scroll through my phone fishing for someone to share my news with. Luna, done. Mom, no. Dad, absolutely not. Bub, fifty-fifty. Depends entirely on if he’s with our parents, and that’s not a risk I want to take.

Ares, he is a good hype man. I think that falls under boyfriend responsibilities… Which he happily agreed to take on. So, I dial his number .

“Are you busy?” I ask before he gets the chance to speak.

“No, just looking at a blank canvas waiting for it to start painting itself. What’s up?”

“I had a really exciting day and I wanted to call my mom about it, but I know she won’t be happy for me. I already called Luna but I feel like I have more excitement to get out. Can I tell you about my day?” I anxiously wait for his answer.

“Kat, you don’t have to ask me if you can tell me about your day. You can tell me about anything you’d like.”

So I do. I tell him every little detail and he asks me questions. He lets me tell him about the plan I made for the marketing team. He tells me how happy he is for me.

“I’m so proud of you!” he exclaims. The simple words crack me open. I feel like an exposed nerve. For once, it’s in a good light.

“I can’t remember the last time someone told me that,” I say, the cheek-splitting smile on my face evident in my tone.

“That’s a shame. I’ll just have to tell you more often.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I tell him.

“I know.”

There’s a silence hanging on the line for a few seconds. Seemingly, no one knows what to say after that. The silence goes on long enough that I consider hanging up the phone and pretending the call dropped.

“I want to take you on another practice date,” he blurts out.

“When? Where?” I ask.

“Surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“No, you like control, don’t you Kat?” Suddenly, it feels like he sees right through me.

Right through the plan and my cold outer shell.

In one phrase, he’s cut past my trauma and into my ooey-gooey center.

The soft middle that is nothing more than a girl trying desperately to deal with the world around her.

“Everyone likes to be in control of their life.”

“Is that all it is?”

I consider indulging him. Telling him I’m not sure, that I didn’t have control of much growing up and the older I get, the more I need it.

“Yep.” I pop the ‘P’ hoping he’ll get the memo to drop it. He does.

“Saturday, two in the afternoon. Can I take you out?” he asks. The speed at which my mind jumps to say yes feels dangerous. It feels like fake dating Ares Dawkins is a horrible idea.

“Yes.”

“Do you have a bedtime on Saturdays?”

I don’t know whether to be offended that he calls it a bedtime like I’m five, or flattered that he cares about my strict schedule.

“No, I’m a free woman on the weekends.”

“Don’t make plans for Saturday, you’re mine all day.”

“I’m yours all day,” I parrot. I like the sound of that. I hate that I like the sound of that.