Chapter 43
Juliet
My mother has been a busy little bee, it seems. That much becomes apparent when the second job offer arrives on a Wednesday morning via FedEx.
Thick cream paper, embossed letterhead, the presentation that screams prestige and money.
Riley, Rawls, and Associates wants me as part of their celebrity PR team. The salary figure makes me blink twice.
“Oh god.” I sputter.
It’s not just more money. It’s life-changing money. The kind that comes with a corner office in downtown Los Angeles, a team of junior associates, and my law school tuition fully covered if I want it. Whoa.
I set the letter on the kitchen counter and stare at it while my coffee grows cold. What strings has Mom pulled to get this law firm to offer me so much money? I didn’t apply, so she clearly told someone to make me an offer. She must’ve gone deep to get me such an incredible job.
But the law school bit sticks in my craw. It’s never enough. I’m never going to satisfy my mom.
Hunter finds me there an hour later, still in my pajamas, the unopened contract sitting on the counter between us.
“What’s that?” he asks, kissing the top of my head as he reaches for his own mug.
“A second job offer. A big one.”
He goes still. “How big?”
I slide the letter toward him, watch his eyebrows climb as he reads. When he reaches the salary figure, he lets out a low whistle.
“Juliet, this is incredible.” He hesitates. “You’d have to be crazy not to take this. When do you start?”
The assumption in his voice, the immediate certainty that I’d take it, makes my chest tight. “I don’t know. I still haven’t decided yet.”
“What’s to decide? This is everything you’ve worked for.”
“Is it?” I pull a face. “It’s just what my mom wanted. Although this law firm intends to bring me on to head their PR team.”
“What’s wrong with that?” He sets down his coffee and turns to face me fully. “Talk to me.”
I think about how to explain it. How to put into words the shift that’s happened inside me over the past few months.
“Three months ago, I would have taken this without hesitation,” I explain slowly. “It represents everything I thought I wanted. Status, money, recognition in my field.”
“But?”
“But now I think about what that life would actually look like. Twelve-hour days managing crises for athletes I don’t care about. Living in a city where I don’t know anyone. Starting over somewhere that doesn’t feel like home.”
Hunter is quiet for a long moment. “You’d be giving up a lot to stay here.”
“Would I? I’d have to leave you.”
He sucks his teeth, silent on that point. Maybe he doesn’t want to influence me.
I stand up and move to the window, looking out at the city that’s become ours. The coffee shop where Hunter brings me lattes on busy mornings. I’ve tried jogging unsuccessfully at the park a few times. The arena where I’ve built something that matters.
“I used to think success meant climbing as high as possible. Getting the biggest title, the most money, the most impressive business card. That’s what my parents taught me matters. But what if that’s not my definition of success? What if success means being somewhere you’re valued for who you are?”
He looks at me with a hesitant expression. “Are you saying you want to turn it down?”
“I’m saying I want to choose what I actually want instead of what I think I should want.”
Hunter crosses the kitchen and wraps his arms around me from behind. I lean into him, feeling the solid warmth of his chest against my back.
“What do you actually want?” he asks quietly.
“My plan is to keep developing what we started. I want to run the PR department at the Havoc and make it into something special. I want to wake up in this apartment with you and not have to pretend this is temporary.” Turning in his arms, I face him.
“I want this to be real, Hux. Permanent. Not a contract with an expiration date, but an actual life we’re building together. ”
The look in his eyes when I say it makes my knees weak. It looks like I’ve just given him something he was afraid to ask for.
His voice is rough. “Are you sure? Because there’s no guarantee. We could break up tomorrow and then you’d have given up this opportunity for nothing.”
“Do you want to break up?” I ask.
Hunter shakes his head. “Fuck no.”
I rub my hands over his chest in a soothing motion.
“We could break up tomorrow if I take the job. At least if I stay, we’ll find out what we’re actually capable of together.”
He kisses me then, soft and grateful and full of something that feels like relief.
“For what it’s worth,” he murmurs against my lips. “I think you’re making the right choice.”
I smile teasingly. “Even if it means I’m stuck with you?”
“Especially if it means you’re stuck with me.”
That afternoon, I call Riley, Rawls, and Associates and politely decline their offer. The recruiter sounds shocked. She increases the salary by twenty percent, throws in a signing bonus, and asks if there’s anything they can do to change my mind.
“It’s a generous offer,” I tell her. “But I’m exactly where I need to be. Not to mention that I don’t enjoy getting jobs through nepotism.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
My cheeks stain. “My mom called in a favor from someone at your firm. Didn’t she?”
When she answers, she sounds puzzled. “I saw you on the news, speaking for the Seattle Havoc. I brought your name to the hiring committee. There must be some mistake, Miss Monroe.”
My eyes widen. “Oh! I just… assumed. I’m sorry.”
“Does this change your mind about joining our team?”
“It doesn’t. But I appreciate you reaching out to me. The job offer is amazing. But…” I suck in a breath. “I’m happy where I am for now. Thanks for even considering me.”
“Of course, Miss Monroe. Stay in touch.”
After I hang up, I sit in my office at the arena and think about what I’ve just done. Six months ago, I would have called this professional suicide. Now, it feels like the first truly honest decision I’ve made about my career.
That evening, Hunter surprises me with takeout from my favorite Thai place and a bottle of champagne.
“What are we celebrating?” I ask.
“You choosing us. You deciding to stay.”
“It wasn’t really a choice. Not once did I think about what I’d actually be giving up.” I kiss him on the lips, my fingers curling in his shirt. “Giving up wasn’t part of the equation. I just finally figured out what actually matters to me.”
“And what’s that?”
“You. Us. Building something real together instead of just collecting achievements I don’t actually care about.”
“I love you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion.
The words floor me. I thought maybe he was falling for me, but to hear it said out loud is a revelation.
I blurt out, “Oh, Hux. I love you, too.”
He bites his lower lip, eyeing me.
“No more expiration dates? No more pretending this is temporary?”
“No more pretending anything. This is real. Permanent. Whatever happens, we figure it out together.”
That night, we have sex with the desperate tenderness that comes from knowing you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. He touches me like I’m precious, like I’m home, like I’m the best decision he’s ever made.
And for the first time in my adult life, I let myself be completely present. Not thinking about what comes next or what I should do differently. Just here, in this moment, with this man who sees me clearly and chooses me anyway.
Just real.