Page 5

Chapter 4

Lia

My phone wakes me from a mid-day nap—a necessity, considering I've recently been bartending until two in the morning and teaching yoga classes four hours later. Last night was my first night off in weeks.

Part of me hopes there will be a text from Brooks waiting for me—my favorite athlete turned man of my dreams with a single impromptu date. My stomach flips when I think about how I offered my phone number—right in the middle of dinner. Will he use it? I have no idea. Part of me feels last night was a one-time thing, but a small piece is holding out that it’s more.

The screen shows an incoming call from a number I don’t know, not my alarm. I wipe the drool from my mouth and answer.

“I’m looking for Lia Stone,” the voice on the other line says.

“This is her.” I stifle a yawn and stretch while holding the phone.

“My name is Megan, and I oversee the Jersey Jaguars’ media team. This is a bit unconventional, but you interviewed for a position a few months back, correct?”

How could I forget? It was practically my dream job—one which focused on social media and connecting fans to the players—and even though I thought I nailed it, they offered the position to someone else. Oof. I hated that day.

“Yes, that’s right.” I stand and my muscles pull with tightness from my awkward sleeping position on the couch .

“I’m hoping you’re still interested in the position. The original candidate didn’t work out. You were our second pick, only by a single vote. You were my first pick for the position.”

No way.

“Is this a joke?”

Megan laughs on the other line. “No, I’m completely serious. Like I said, I know this isn’t typical.”

It takes everything in me not to scream yes or say I'd pay to work for them —that’s how bad I want this opportunity. Plus, there’s the whole mask of professionalism one is expected to wear.

“The catch is, we need you to start as soon as possible, like tomorrow. Saturday.”

“Tomorrow? Wow.”

“If you can swing it, we’re happy to include a signing bonus for the quick pivot.”

I take a slow breath, acting like I'm mulling it over, but I knew I was going to say yes as soon as the question was asked. I’d even do it without the signing bonus, but that’s a significant perk. My position was eliminated at my previous job five months ago, but what they meant was they were going to keep hiring interns every six months and not pay anyone what they’re worth for the work. The hours were crippling, and the pay was abysmal, but it was consistent and helped me stay afloat.

“Can you send a formal offer to review, including the signing bonus?” I asked as casually as possible.

“Absolutely. Clicking send now. Call if you have questions, but we’d love an answer as soon as possible.”

After ending the call, I open my laptop, refresh my email inbox, and watch as the offer comes in. I click the attachment, my fingers trembling above the track pad as I read through the offer I know I’m going to agree to .

My mouth drops when I get to the bonus—it’s not life-changing money, but it will give me some breathing room. Maybe I won’t have to fit in a consistent yoga morning schedule, or take random shifts at the coffee shop or bakery? I sigh out a breath, and it’s as if some of the stress goes with it.

In this moment, I wish I could call my parents. Tell them the good news. But it’s impossible—I’ve been missing them for over a decade. The way my mom would rub my back after school, listening to me tell her everything that happened. The way my dad would make breakfast for us on the weekends.

In the art of trying to play it cool, I call the one person who will be as excited as I am.

“An unsolicited phone call? Who even are you?” Wes, my younger brother, jokes as the sound of squeaking shoes on the basketball court fills the background. “I thought you were a millennial.”

I laugh because, even though he’s a senior in high school, he gets me—the last thing I ever want to give or receive is a phone call. This news is a perfect example of when it’s warranted.

“Hush. I know, but I couldn’t text you this. Guess what?!” I prompt him. From here, I can envision him holding a basketball on a hip while pressing the phone to his face with the opposite shoulder.

“You’ve been awake for fifty hours straight and are starting to hallucinate?” Sarcasm drips from Wes’ words.

I gasp like he’s guessed correctly, and then say, “Nope. And that happened one time . Let it go.”

“I’m about to start practice, so you have thirty seconds to cut to the chase or we’ll have to pick this up later. Your choice.” I hear him dribble a ball.

“I got the job!”

“Which one? It’s hard to keep them straight. ”

“With the Jags. Apparently, their original hire didn’t work out, and I was next in line. I’m about to accept the offer, but I wanted to tell you first.”

“That’s amazing! Like actually legit.” I hear Wes tell my news to some of his teammates who must be standing around him, and a band of warmth spreads through my chest. “I want to hear all about it, but Coach is going to kill me if he sees I’m on my phone.”

“I’ll see you Sunday morning,” I say and I’m sliding back into the couch, grabbing my laptop.

My phone buzzes again.

Shelbie

okay if you don’t dish on your date with what’s his face

i’m keeping your tip money from the other night

not really but come on

Me

are you working tonight? i’ll come in

yes

i’ll wear my best don’t-even-think-of-sitting-there face if someone tries taking the edge bar stool

What about Brooks? The thought nags, buried under pure joy and elation. It’s not something I can even get into right now—plus, he hasn’t reached out. There’s no way I can even consider that as part of my decision for this job. Even if he’s charming, gorgeous, and a complete gentleman, I learned a long time ago you have to look out for yourself because no one else will.

I set my phone on the side table, taking a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I feel the air stretch my rib cage and sigh it out. The way my lips pull up is like it’s coming straight from my heart. This is something I’ve wanted, down to my bones, and I’m not the kind of girl who has gotten a lot of what she wants.

Replying to the offer letter, I formally accept. When I’m confident the email has sent, I close my laptop and jump from the couch. I dance around my tiny studio apartment to a song playing on my phone.

This is a win I’ve needed.

For a long time.