45. Lincoln
FORTY-FIVE
LINCOLN
I had spent the entire morning scrolling through advertisements for jobs in town.
Half of them I had already applied to—twice—and I grunted as I shut Cali’s laptop with a little more force than necessary.
No matter where I went, there ended up being someone more qualified than me.
My last interview was for a nearby grocery store that would have hired teenagers rather than pay someone else a livable wage.
The hard truth was that no one was interested in hiring the college dropout with no real work experience.
Sensing my frustration, Cali had offered to take Sadie out for the afternoon. Now that the weather was warming up, all Sadie wanted to do was spend time outside. It gave me time to sulk in silence without having to put on a mask.
I placed the laptop on the coffee table and ran both hands across my face. Someone in the state must be willing to hire me. I blew out a slow breath into my folded hands. All I needed was a fighting chance.
I was getting up from the couch when a hard knock started at the front door. Cali and Sadie had left less than ten minutes ago. It couldn’t have been them. I stepped into the foyer, ready to tell a couple of Girl Scouts that I wasn’t buying what they were selling, when another knock sounded.
“I’m coming,” I barked before swinging open the door. However, it wasn’t a couple of pre-teen girls on the other side.
“Coach,” I started, blinking at the man I thought I probably wouldn’t see again. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to visit,” Whitmore grunted. His expression was similar to Oscar the Grouch. His thick, grey brows formed an angry downward arrow. “I came all this way. Are you not going to invite me in?”
The bottom of my jaw went slack as it bobbed along. “Uh… ye–yeah, sure. Come on in.”
The elderly man seemed misplaced in the narrow foyer of my home. His broad shoulders were emphasized by the black track jacket he was wearing. The crest on his chest had my stomach dripping. I was scrambling to think of something to say to him. Sorry I screwed you over for the rest of the season?
By the time he finished wiping his dress shoes on the carpet, I managed to form a cohesive thought. I led him into the adjacent room and asked, “Can I get you anything?”
“Coffee. Black,” he instructed as he surveyed the tight kitchen quarters.
I replied with a stiff nod. Cali’s caffeine addiction meant that our ancient coffee machine was put to good use over the last few weeks. I’d seen her fumble around with it enough times to know how to make a half-decent americano—at least by her standards.
I pushed a button, and the bulky machine whirred to life. Whitmore made himself comfortable at the kitchen table, his hands clasped and resting on the surface. We didn’t exchange another word until I placed the mug of hot coffee down in front of him.
“How have things been?” I asked, using small talk to get me through the visit.
I could barely look my ex-coach in the eye without a spark of shame igniting in my chest.
“With the program?” Whitmore wrapped one hand around the steaming mug. “It’s gone to shit since you were kicked out.”
And there it was. A fresh wave of guilt crashed into me. While I wasn’t the one who exposed the operation happening below campus, I couldn’t help but feel I had let Whitmore down for being involved in the first place.
“Sorry,” I blurted out. Then I cleared my throat. “I wasn’t?—”
Whitmore held up an open palm. “I’m not here for your apology, Pierce.”
I swallowed, bringing my gaze down.
“I’m here because I want to offer you a job.”
I brought my attention back up. Whitmore’s thin lips quirked up in the slightest curve. “How would you like to be a trainer at a well-respected boxing gym in the city?”
“Trainer?” I said. “I don’t think I’m qualified.”
Whitmore levelled me with a stare. “You’re more than qualified, son. I’ve never come across anyone with your mental fortitude for the sport. The passion you have. You can’t teach that. You were born a fighter, Pierce. Anyone would be lucky to have you on their team. Are you interested?”
“Yes.”
Whitmore nodded in approval. “The owner is a very close friend of mine. I’ve spoken highly of you, so don’t go fucking this up, you hear?”
The dining chair creaked from the weight of my back. I drew in a breath. “Absolutely.”
A rare grin erupted onto Whitmore’s face. He held his hand out. “They’re lucky to have you, son.” It was like I was experiencing déjà vu. He had said the exact same thing to me four years prior when I accepted the boxing scholarship. “Or should I start calling you coach?”
I couldn’t hold it back. A genuine smile split my face from ear to ear as I reached over to shake his hand. “Thank you, sir.”
Whitmore said, his hand firmly around mine. “You deserve it.”
My ex-coach left not long after he finished his coffee. After he was gone, I found myself sitting back at the kitchen table, going over what had happened. I didn’t want to jinx it, but it finally felt like things were coming together for me.
From the kitchen window, I watched as Cali and Sadie skipped down the sidewalk, hand-in-hand.
My heart warmed at the sight of the two of them.
The front door clicked open. Sadie was happily chatting away as she ripped up the Velcro from her shoes.
She was rattling off the rest of the activities she had planned with my girlfriend for the afternoon.
Cali laughed at her antics, politely agreeing to everything she said, but knowing very well she would probably be passed out in bed within the next thirty minutes.
“Can we watch it now?” Sadie asked .
“Sure,” she said. “Go and grab Berry, and we’ll turn the living room into a movie theatre.”
I could imagine Sadie’s blue eyes growing wide. “With popcorn?”
“With popcorn.”
Sadie cheered as she barreled up the stairs. Cali came into view soon afterwards. She noticed me sitting at the table. A smile graced her features.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked, taking notice of the empty coffee mug across from me. Her head tilted, but before she could ask me any more questions, I got up from my chair and shortened the distance between us.
“Nothing,” I responded, wrapping my arms around her. My arms rested on her shoulders as I placed a kiss on her temple. “Just thinking.”
Cali lifted her chin. “About?”
“All the good you’ve brought into my life.” I brought my lips down to hers, relishing in the softness.
When I pulled away, Cali’s long lashes fluttered up at me. “Like I told you before, we’re good together. You’ve brought a lot of good into my life, too.”
“Oh yeah, like what?”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “Without you, I wouldn’t have Sadie.”
I gave her a deadpan stare. “Using me for my sister, huh?”
“She is really cute.”
I hummed, arms encircling her waist. “You could use me in other ways.”
“Oh, yeah? Like how?” Her tongue brushed against her bottom like, luring all the blood in my body south. I wrangled in the temptation long enough to share the good news .
“Well, now that I’m a trainer at a boxing gym, maybe I can give you some self-defense lessons.”
“Trainer?” Cali echoed, eyes still hooded with lust. I watched it materialize into confusion.
I met her puzzled expression with a smile. “Whitmore just left. He came by to ask me if I was interested in a job. Apparently, a good friend of his owns a facility. He thought I’d be a good fit.”
“Oh my god,” Cali breathed. “Lincoln, I’m so happy for you!”
With the little space between us, Cali managed to launch herself at me and wrap her legs around my waist. She clung there for a moment before pulling her head back to meet my eyes. “We have to celebrate!”
She hopped down from my waist and started for the stairs. “Sadie, change of plans. We’re throwing a party!”
In the distance, I heard Sadie call back. “A party? Like a tea party?”
And right there, in the room across the hall, I saw my future. The one I wanted but never thought I would have. And it was all because of a stubborn woman who wouldn’t take no for an answer.