Page 54 of Score to Settle (Oakwood Ranch #1)

FORTY

HARPER

JAKE: I’m really sorry for what I said.

JAKE: Can we talk?

JAKE: Please meet me.

JAKE: The team is going to New York early for some press events ahead of Sunday’s game. We’re leaving today. Can we please talk when I’m back?

It’s the first day back in the office after New Year’s and everyone is quiet.

The atmosphere is sullen. People staring down the barrel of a long, cold January, wishing they’d booked the extra vacation and started the year next week.

I’m the only one glad to be back. Routine and focus. That’s what I need.

I’ve spent the last five days avoiding Jake’s attempts to contact me.

I stayed nearby even after he’d pushed me away, just until I’d spoken to Mama and knew he was OK.

She gave me a tight hug and told me she’d see me soon, and I turned away before she could see my tears.

I get that he was upset, but those words came from somewhere real.

We were nothing. Just some fun. It was a challenge to see if I could get you into bed and I did.

Maybe someone else in my position could forget it.

Chalk it up to a moment of anger. But I can’t.

I don’t have a big life, a big family, people I can depend on.

But for a while, I thought I had Jake. For the first time in my life, Mia wasn’t the only one I could turn to, and that meant something.

And now he’s gone. In his wake is a hollow emptiness.

A reminder of how so very alone I am in this world.

I’ve buried myself in my novel this week, turning down Mia’s invite to a New Year’s Eve party and staying home alone, escaping into my characters.

I wrote the final chapter this morning before work, the words pouring out in a rush of emotions as my characters found the happy ever after I couldn’t.

The novel is finished and the excitement I feel is almost enough for me to ignore the emptiness.

When I first started writing this novel, it was in secret.

I was embarrassed, telling myself it was just a distraction and I’d never do anything with it.

But now… I don’t know what the future holds for me and my writing career, but I know I’m going to carry on.

Jake might not be in my life anymore, but I know his confidence has rubbed off on me.

I no longer care if people think I’m a sellout.

Writing sexy vampire stories makes me happy and that’s all that matters.

I wish Jake’s feature would write itself just as easily.

I’ve spent the morning at my desk, staring at the blank screen of my computer.

I have all the notes I typed up over the weekend.

I have funny anecdotes, quotes, and memories from his childhood.

But I no longer have the direction. The feature Tim is expecting is one which starts with me believing Jake is his reputation, then me seeing the real Jake—the man behind the bravado—who is kind and sweet.

Except after Jake told me I was just a challenge, I don’t know how true that is or how to write this feature.

I can’t bring myself to write either version—the one where Jake is good, or the one where he isn’t.

If I could find that perfect opening line, I think the rest will follow.

I know a part of me is reluctant to start because starting will lead to finishing.

The feature on Jake is the final thread that holds us together.

Despite the hurt, I’m struggling to let it go.

Let us go. Yet I couldn’t answer the phone when he called.

Another number has been calling too that I don’t recognize and I haven’t dared answer in case it’s Jake.

Mia called last night to tell me Jake stopped by her apartment yesterday.

With our fight and then Jake ending things between us for good, I didn’t get the chance to tell him I’d found my own apartment.

The studio is small but airy, overlooking a park.

It’s only a few blocks from the gym and Mia’s place.

When I first saw it, I thought of me and Jake dividing our time between the city and the ranch.

I even wondered if Buck would like the park, but it’s just me now.

Mia has helped me shop for furnishings and already it’s a mishmash of colors.

If I block out the beauty of the ranch—those green paddocks, the lake, and the distant mountains—the apartment almost feels like home.

My eyes drag to my phone and the empty screen.

Jake’s message from this morning is still there.

He’s leaving for New York. This weekend is the final game of the season.

It’s against the undefeated Steelguards.

The Stormhawks need this win to make the playoffs.

Despite everything, I want it for them. For him.

I steel myself with a deep breath and focus on my computer and the blank document waiting to be filled. Just start typing , I tell myself. Damn you, Jake Sullivan. Why did you have to make me fall for you?

There’s a shout of joy from the office kitchen and I look up, glad for the distraction. It’s Callie. “Oh my God, there are donuts. Whoever brought these is my new best friend.”

She pokes her head of red curls around the door as I hide my smile.

“Alison, was it you?”

The senior reporter shakes her head. “The only thing I leave in the kitchen in January is salad. But I’m starving, so I’ll take a donut. Diet starts next week, I guess.”

“Kevin?” Callie asks like she already doesn’t believe it.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs. “But if you’re offering one.”

Eventually her eyes land on me and I give a wave. “Hey, bestie.”

She looks taken aback. “You bought donuts for the office?” she asks with the same level of disbelief as if I’d announced Taylor Swift was my sister.

I shrug. “First day back after New Year’s. I thought we could all do with the boost.”

Alison gives a cheery thanks, her mouth already full of sugary dough, and Callie offers me a tentative smile. Not smug. Not mean. Just nice. I almost fall off my chair.

“Thanks, Harper.”

For the first time, I wonder if the cold shoulder she’s always given me is less to do with her and the fact we’re competing for the same job, and more to do with how much I’ve been hell-bent on keeping my head down, acting professional, and making sure no one learns the truth about my football knowledge or that I was fired from Insight .

It’s quite possible my behavior has been misread as cold-hearted bitch.

I cringe inwardly as Callie takes her seat at the desk across from mine, placing a donut and a coffee on my desk.

“Thanks,” I say.

“How’s the feature going?” she asks.

“Good,” I reply instinctively before slumping back in my chair and looking at Callie. “The truth?”

She gives a nod of encouragement.

“It’s hard. I’ve got so much I want to say, but…” I trail off, unable to explain the mess of my thoughts.

“You’ll get there,” she says. It might be the nicest thing she’s ever said to me.

“As long as you’ve got your red pen ready,” I say, my tone light as I remember the marked-up notes left on my desk last month.

She snorts. “Just a little joke,” she says with a smirk.

“It got me, too. But…” I narrow my eyes a little. “That hotel room you booked for me in Atlanta, did you cancel it the morning I was due to stay there?” The answer doesn’t matter now, but I’d like to know.

“What?” She looks aghast. “No way! Seriously, Harper. I might not be your biggest fan, but canceling your hotel room would’ve been a step too far.”

I laugh and remember the desk clerk mentioning a computer glitch. “Good to know.”

“What did you do?” Callie asks. “Did you find another room? I had so much trouble getting you that one because there was?—”

“An Irish dance competition,” we say in unison.

My cheeks heat remembering that night with Jake and our first kiss. “Don’t worry. I found something.”

“Good.” She smiles, turning back to her computer. “Hopefully that something involved a gorgeous football player.”

My mouth drops open and she flashes me a wide grin. “Oh, come on. I saw the story about the two of you. I’d totally have done the same if I was given half a chance to fall in love with a hunky tight end.”

Heat creeps over my cheeks, but I smile. I’ve been so worried about trying to prove I was a professional, maybe I should’ve spent more time being myself and trusting people to like me.

It occurs to me that whatever bridge is being built between me and Callie is too little, too late.

I glance toward Tim’s office. He’s gone to a meeting with management on the twenty-fourth floor, but when he’s back, he wants to see me.

No matter what Callie says, I crossed a line with Jake, and Tim has every right to be mad about that.

It’s not just my reputation, it’s the reputation of the magazine too.

I sigh. Even if I come away from it with my job intact, I’m going to come clean about lying in my interview and allowing Tim to believe I knew as much about football as I do about other sports.

I avoided anything to do with football after high school and my misguided hate toward Jake, but even with everything falling apart between us, I can’t deny I love the game.

I’ll offer to finish the feature on Jake, take my name off the byline, and clear out my desk. It’s the right thing to do. There’s only one position for a junior reporter on the magazine and it belongs to Callie.

I’m about to tell Callie that Jake and I are over, but then the elevator pings and Tim is striding across the floor, face like thunder. I freeze, pulse roaring in my ears. Walking beside him, a smug grin on his face, is Scott.

Mia shut down Scott’s interview chances last week. There’s no job for him at Arquette Media. So what the hell is he doing here? Scott glances my way, and in the knowing look he shoots me, I have my answer. Anger floods my body. He thinks he’s here to take me down.

“Harper,” Tim barks across the floor. “My office, please.”