Chapter Eighteen
EIGHTEEN
HAILEY’S DAILY RULE FOR SUCCESS:
Sometimes believing is the hardest act of faith.
I’m losing my shirt at poker Sunday night, but my mind is just not in the game. It hasn’t been in any game all week. I’m letting the team down when they need me most because my focus is not on the field, where it should be.
Unfortunately, Hailey Harris is everywhere I look. The video of the wedding disaster has gone viral. Several guests had captured the kiss and the aftermath on their cell phone, posted it and that Stanley Spencer jerkoff—Hailey’s biggest professional rival—made it go viral.
And of course once the media sinks their teeth in...everything in a person’s past gets dug up and aired. Like the news article on my cell phone now with a headline that reads: “Not the first time Hailey Harris has messed up someone’s life. Ask professional football star Warren Mitchell.”
Under the headline is a photo of Hailey and me in cuffs being escorted to the airport security office.
Feels like a lifetime ago...
“Hey, Mitchell, you playing or what?” Jeremy asks, tossing a poker chip at me to get my attention.
“Yeah.” I scan the flush in my hand. I fold then hesitate before asking, “Hey, those tryouts a couple years ago for the Rangers... What happened to the quarterback? The front-runner?” The guy was drafted first pick, then seemingly vanished. His media rep confirmed he’d walked away from the deal and the sport.
“The one who replaced you when you bailed?” Jeremy asks.
“Yeah.”
Uncomfortable looks are exchanged around the table. No one wants to talk and my gut twists.
“Come on, guys...”
My pulse starts to race at the way they all squirm in their seats.
Finally, Jeremy sighs and sits back in his chair. “Freak accident on the field with the linebacker.”
Damien shakes his head. “Last we heard, he was learning to walk again.”
Jesus. I instantly feel ill...and a chill spreads throughout my entire body.
Saw you get hurt. Really hurt.
There’s no way Hailey could have known. “I don’t remember hearing anything about it. They must have released some sort of statement.”
“They did, but it was around the same time Cliff...” His voice trails.
I had other things going on, and with my brother’s death I hadn’t been paying attention.
“It was a tragic, unexpected accident. In this line of work, we all know it can happen to any of us at any time,” Jeremy says.
It could have happened to him. But it didn’t. Realization dawns. Maybe Hailey isn’t lying.
Marcus needs this opportunity...
Her words echo eerily in my mind. If she was right about me, maybe she’s also right about Marcus.
I climb the stairs to the Kent house first thing the next morning with breakfast and coffee from the deli down the street. I knock and scan the neighborhood as I wait. All night I tossed and turned and flip-flopped about this decision, but I know in my gut I have to try one last time. Marcus is a fantastic player and he just needs someone to support him and believe in him. I’m willing to do that, but I need to know he can commit. If he walks away from this today, I’ll let it go. I’ll have no other choice.
Maureen answers, surprised to see me. “Hey, Coach.”
“Hi, Maureen. Marcus home?”
She nods but frowns. “He said he was off the team.”
“That’s what I came to talk to him about.”
She hesitates, closes the door a little more. “I don’t know, Coach. He’s got a lot going on right now.”
“I know. And believe me, I’m going against my own rules by offering him this opportunity to play next week for the scouts, but the thing is, I believe in Marcus. So very much. More than he does. I know he’s great. I know he can do this and it absolutely kills me that he doesn’t. I can’t make his decisions for him, I can’t make him play his best out there. He needs to want it...”
“I do.” Marcus’s voice, coming from the hallway behind her, catches our attention and I look past her at the kid.
For the first time, the chip on his shoulder is gone and he looks like a nervous, scared teenage boy trying to figure out his life when the odds seem stacked against him. The false bravado is gone and there’s the faint bruising of a black eye healing. Not the last if he continues on his current path.
His mother turns toward him and her tone is cautious. “Marcus, I thought we decided playing football wasn’t the best thing right now.”
She’s scared and practical. It’s hard for her to dream big for Marcus when life has proven to be difficult and unpredictable and not always handing out dreams.
“I know, Ma...but I really do think I have what it takes,” he says.
Finally.
“I was just afraid to take a shot and fail, so I quit before I could mess up. But now... I want to do this. I want to go all in.” His voice is stronger as he continues.
I know the pressure on him from all sides is huge and I feel for him. Choosing what he wants over what his friends are pressuring him to do takes courage and guts at that age. Doing the right thing seems impossible.
I tried for years to live up to my father’s expectations. Cliff did too and it was the toll it took on my brother that made me realize I needed to live my life, my way, for me.
So does Marcus.
“I’m sorry, Coach,” he says approaching me. “The other night...”
I nod and struggle with my sense of compassion for the kid and needing to be the strong authority on this. He broke the rules and walked away. This ticket back can’t be an easy one.
“I get it. I do. But this offer to play is the last shot.” If he messes up this chance again, there’s nothing else I can do. This career in professional sports is only going to get more challenging. There will always be doubt or temptations or times he wants to quit or take an easy road, but if he can stay the course, remembering his passion and drive and love of the sport, he could truly thrive where so many fall short.
He steps closer and lowers his head. “I’m sorry I let you down.”
I reach out and draw him into my chest. I heave a deep sigh as he hugs me. “Just don’t let yourself down. That’s what matters.”
Clutching my coffee cup, I sit at my desk and stare at the viral video with the caption: “Life Coach Steals Groom at Client’s Wedding” with the hashtag #CancelHaileyHarris. The video has gotten over a million views and there’s no doubt in my mind who helped it trend.
I sigh as I sip the coffee. My follower count on social media is dwindling and subscribers to my app have plummeted. Ignoring my DMs has never been so important. I’m sure instead of the usual dick-pics, it’s flooded with hate mail. This video is far-reaching and destroying my career. No one cares to hear the real story behind the kiss and it’s hard to defend myself when my actions hadn’t been pure in the beginning.
My goal was to break up a wedding and I succeeded.
And now I’m living with the consequences.
I reach for my cell phone and dial several potential clients. No one answers. Not that I expect them to.
I scroll through my messages and see the last one I sent to Sonia has been received but no reply. She has every right not to speak to me again, but I’m deeply and truly sorry and I miss her.
Consequences.
Deep down, I always knew this gift of mine would be a detriment—it was just a matter of time. What I didn’t expect was this devastatingly heartbreaking disappointment as I watch everything I’ve built come crashing down and everyone I care about turning away.
A knock sounds on the door. I didn’t hear the gate buzzer and I’m not expecting anyone, so I’m not surprised to see Amelia standing at the door when I open it.
“Hi, dear,” she says, holding a pot of tea. “Thought you could use a friend.”
The words bring another rush of tears to my eyes as I step back to let her enter.
A moment later, in the kitchen, she places a mug of tea in front of me, then takes a seat at the table. “Drink.”
I sip and grimace as a sour taste and unpleasant smell reach me. “What is it?”
“Don’t ask. But it will make you feel better.”
“Is it laced with something because I don’t think there’s enough disgusting tea in the world that could make me feel better right now.” My professional reputation is in shambles and my personal life—whatever there was of one—is crumbling.
And Warren... I can’t erase the disappointed, hurt expression from my mind. I can’t stop thinking about him—about the kiss, about our time together. My chest aches and the feeling in the pit of my stomach keeps growing with each passing day of not hearing from him or seeing him.
I miss him the most.
Amelia sits across from me and touches my hand. “So, you made a mistake...”
“It wasn’t just giving a client the wrong advice. This mistake was life altering.” While bad professional advice would be devastating enough, this had much further reaching impact. “I broke up a couple.”
Amelia shakes her head, her gray curls falling across her thin, frail shoulders. “If they were truly happy, you wouldn’t have been successful in breaking them up.”
Her words of wisdom don’t have the soothing effect I know she intended. She may be right, but deciding on a life together should have been Sonia and Liam’s sole decision. I never should have interfered.
I slump in the chair. “I’m a fraud.” I’ve always known it, but now it’s just solidified. There’s no way I can continue my career this way. Even if it wasn’t slowly being sabotaged by that viral video and my questionable actions, I don’t feel in my heart that it’s the right thing to do anymore.
“It doesn’t matter how you’re able to help people, the key is that you do,” Amelia says as she nudges my teacup closer and urges me to drink.
I take another god-awful sip and realize maybe this is my penance. “But how many people who took my advice are now unhappy? I mean, even if I was right about Sonia hurting Liam, who was I to interfere?”
“Someone who cared about him.”
“Or did I just care about myself? Use the situation to ease my own conscience while I went after what I wanted?” Or thought I wanted—which is even worse.
Amelia sends me a thoughtful look. “We’ve been neighbors for a long time and all I know is, I see a lot of lost souls going into your office and a lot of optimism walking out.”
Her words do make me feel a little better, but I can’t tame the spiraling thoughts about the lives I’ve impacted—directly and indirectly—with my actions.
Amelia extends her hand. “You’ve always been a positive guide for me.”
I hesitate as I stare at her lifeline. “I don’t think I should do this anymore.”
She reaches for my hand and grasps it. Our lifelines connect and my visionary powers are activated.
Inside Amelia’s house, her living room is cold, quiet...
I shiver, feeling an unfamiliar eeriness even through time and space...
Amelia’s rocking chair is empty and a pile of unread scripts sits on her desk.
Tears burning my eyes, I squeeze Amelia’s hand. “You know, I think it’s time you took that trip to see your son,” I say gently.
Amelia nods her understanding and doesn’t let go of my hand. This time she holds on tighter. “Will you come with me?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Of course.”
I may not be confident using my gift to help others anymore, but this is one way I can be there for her—when she needs me, when it matters.
My Jeep pulls up to Hailey’s front gate the next day. I lean out the window and hit the buzzer. As I wait, I run a nervous hand through my hair. I have no idea what to say to her. Do I believe she has psychic abilities...no? I don’t know. Maybe?
If she did somehow know about the accident at tryouts or whether she just had a bad feeling that day in the airport, either way, she saved my life or at least prevented a life-altering injury.
But what do I say to her? Where exactly do we go from here?
Truth of the matter is that she still broke up a wedding, kissed her ex moments after kissing me, and made me question my own sanity...
Despite that, I can’t stop thinking about her. I think about her the minute I wake up and she’s the last frustrating thought I have before I drift off into a restless sleep. I don’t want to date—I’ve deleted my hookup contact list—or even spend time with the guys. I long to see her, touch her, be near her annoyingly addictive energy. I miss her smile, her laugh, her taunting banter. I miss our bickering and damn, if I don’t desperately want to feel again the way I felt when I kissed her.
That still doesn’t help me figure out what the hell I’m going to say to her. Or whether she wants to hear it.
She hurt me, she hurt a lot of people...
But I hurt her too.
With my words and actions and rejection the night of the wedding mess, I pushed her away and while it was an act of self-preservation, I’ll deserve it if she decides to protect her heart now.
I wait a few more minutes, but she doesn’t answer.
I put the Jeep in Reverse and back out of her driveway. Window down, the warm summer breeze blows through the Jeep as I drive away from the beautiful, rich neighborhood. My heart and mind in conflict.
As I hit the highway, the life coaching billboard comes into view and I see that it’s defaced with graffiti that reads: #CancelHaileyHarris. She’s been given devil horns and there’s a broken heart painted on the sign.
I stare at it and sigh.
Somehow I know that her heart was in the right place throughout all of this, even if her actions caused chaos, and she doesn’t deserve to lose everything over one mistake.
Wish I’d come to that conclusion a little sooner.
Amelia’s son lives in a beautiful bungalow two hours outside Los Angeles. In the passenger seat of my convertible, Amelia looks like Hollywood royalty—her hair wrapped in a bandana and wide-rimmed sunglasses on. She glances nervously at the house.
“Looks like a nice neighborhood,” I say to break the thick silence. We barely spoke on the drive over. I wish there were some way I could offer her the reassurance she needs. Family is complicated—I know that better than anyone—but I hope this reunion goes the way she deserves, because I also know how hollow it feels not to have a family.
When she makes no motion to get out, I climb out and open the door for her. “Okay, time to be brave.”
Amelia hesitates, her eyes on the house. She looks older today, a little frailer, and I know the stress of this visit is weighing on her. But I also know that time’s running out to make amends and heal, and if she doesn’t do this now, while there’s still a chance, she’ll regret it.
“What if he won’t talk to me?”
“He will.”
“I put my career before family for a long time, what if I’m too late?”
“You’re not.”
“You’ve seen it?” She looks hopeful.
“I don’t need to. He’s family. Go. I’ll wait right here.”
Amelia climbs out and slowly walks up the front steps. She stands in front of the door and I see her shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath.
This has taken a lot of courage, and I know what this means to her to be here right now. Mending fences after years of stubbornness and heartache is a huge step to take and I’m proud of her—no matter what happens.
Her son, Aaron, opens the front door, and his face is full of surprise when he sees her standing there.
I hold my breath and press my sweaty palms against the legs of my pants as I watch and wait for his reaction. If my heart is pounding this hard, I can only imagine how Amelia must be feeling.
Aaron finally smiles, happy to see his mother, and I release a huge relieved breath as he ushers her inside. As she steps in, she glances back toward me and the look on her face is happiness and gratitude like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Even more radiant than she’s ever looked on the silver screen.
It steals my breath for a second as emotions threaten to overwhelm.
Leaning against the vehicle, I wave and smile through my tears. I may not always help people, but today I’ve truly supported a friend when they needed me and I’ll take the win.