Chapter Twenty-One
“Shay and Cade sitting in a tree. K. I. S. S—”
I slam the volume button on my phone down, cutting off my best friend’s childish song. Having Mallory on speaker is always a risk, but it’s even riskier when I’m at work. Thankfully, my office is sequestered from everyone else’s.
“Mallory Ella Edwards,” I hiss, shifting the phone to my ear. “If I wanted to be teased, I would’ve called Adri. And we didn’t kiss!”
Had it not been for that terrifying landline that broke the spell, I don’t know if I could’ve stopped myself from letting it happen.
No matter how hard I tried, kissing Cade isn’t something I’ve been able to purge from my memory.
It’s etched into my brain so deeply that only a lobotomy might dislodge it.
The way his hands would alternate between holding my face so gently, then gripping my sides, like he couldn’t decide whether to worship me or consume me.
He kissed the way he plays baseball: intense, calculated, and full of passion.
One kiss might have killed me.
“Are you okay?” she asks, all traces of humor gone.
I sigh. “I don’t know.”
“Want to talk about it?”
She’s already heard all about it. Mallory stood beside me when Cade didn’t come home, letting me rant and cry for as long as I needed to. She never rushed my sadness, and for that, I’m thankful.
Still, my next meeting isn’t for an hour and a half.
“Right before we leaned in, I accidentally let it slip that I loved him back when we were together, even though we never said the words. I think that’s what charged the moment up.”
“Ouch,” she hisses. “What was the context?”
It’s not my place to tell her about what Cade’s going through. I know they’re best friends, but I’ll honor our client-agent confidentiality with my life.
“Not important. All that matters is that we aren’t allowed to hang out by ourselves. Public outings and group hangouts only from here on out, because I apparently lack self-control.”
She scoffs. “You’re being dramatic.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” I joke, nibbling on my bloody finger.
“True, but if I’m telling you you’re overreacting, you’re probably overreacting.
Hold on, Shay.” Children’s voices fill the line, which is to be expected, since Mallory’s at the diabetes camp she co-manages every summer.
Once free of the chaos, she yawns. “Is there a chance you want to be with Cade again?”
I flop into my chair. “It doesn’t matter, Mally. My job is the only thing that actually does. I’ll never be able to control a heart or if a relationship works out, but I can control what I do to move up and earn the respect of my colleagues.”
“Shay.” Her voice hits that sweet spot between careful concern and fierce protectiveness.
“I love that you love your job, but careers are just as out of your control as a heart is. You’ve done everything you can to be the best agent, and they still treat you like shit.
” As if she can see me wince, she softens her tone.
“I’m sorry, but it pisses me off every time you get ignored by those assholes.
You’re constantly giving the job your everything, making sure your clients are happy, taken care of, and feel safe and cared for.
And that’s not even getting into your actual job duties.
The meetings, the calls, the late nights, the early mornings.
Your contracts are rock solid, and I’d be scared to negotiate with you.
As your best friend, my number one job is to make sure you know how valuable you are.
So, I won’t stop telling you that you deserve better from them.
And I also won’t stop reminding you that you deserve happiness too. Outside of work.”
I may not completely agree, but I can’t help but smile.
People swear they have the world’s best friend, but I’d die on the hill that mine’s the best.
“You’re too blunt for your own good. I love you big, Mally.”
“I love you bigger.” A smile stretches her voice. “I’m tired of talking about your cruddy coworkers and need a distraction before these kids pelt me with water balloons. Don’t think about the job or the fact that you can’t control it. Do you like Cade again?”
I’ve rehearsed this answer many times. Because I’m a professional, the two-letter word should be easy to say, but my mouth won’t move.
Instead, a three-letter word rears its ugly head.
We weren’t right before. He kept too much in. But now, he’s letting me see parts of him I never had access to. And I don’t know what to do with that except admit that I see the changes. And maybe, that part of me still wants him.
Even though I shouldn’t.
After a beat, I nod, but she can’t see me. “I do, but—”
“Turner!” My supervisor pushes my office door open. The smile on his face is faker than the motivational posters in the HR department.
I whisper, “Gotta go,” before hanging up and standing. “Trevor! What can I do for you?”
Judgmental eyes take in the small space, likely because his office dwarfs mine. “Can’t I come and see my junior agent?”
My eyes dart to the open door. “You haven’t before?”
“You’ve never had an athlete going to the All-Star Game before. Speaking of, how’s the star doing?”
No clue. Since rushing out of his house four nights ago with none of my dignity, we’ve barely spoken.
“Over the moon,” I squeeze out, taking a seat.
“As he should be. Atlanta is nice this time of year. Gah, he doesn’t know what’s coming. The number of women that’ll be throwing themselves at him is gonna be legendary. It’ll be the best week of his damn life.”
I swallow bile. “The best.”
Cade may have made it clear he isn’t available, but that doesn’t mean women aren’t completely obsessed with him. You’d be crazy not to be. He’s a professional athlete who looks the way he does and has a heart of gold.
“And you’re going to make sure of it,” Trevor says. “Since the game is on Tuesday, you’ll need to be there by Monday.”
The papers in my hand fall to the ground. “You want me to go to the All-Star Game in Atlanta?”
His weighted pause tells me he’d prefer if I quit, but he recovers. “Winston damn near demanded it when he heard the news.” Without waiting for me, he yells, “Ernie! Get in here!”
The rumpled man rushes inside. Based on the crease in his pants, he’s been sitting outside the entire time. “What can I do for you?”
“Reserve a hotel room at The Prescott for Turner. Checking in on Monday and checking out on Wednesday. Book her flight, first class, and send us both the confirmation when done.”
My office feels more cramped than a sardine can when Ernie takes a seat on the ground and opens his laptop. Nobody but my clients, except for Andy that one time, has been inside my office. Now, I’ve got my supervisor, who hates me, and the receptionist taking up all the space.
“After the game, take him to the swankiest bar in town and show him the time of his life. Invite anybody he wants to celebrate with. On Tuesday night, you’re going to make the golden boy feel like a star.”
I bite my tongue. He’s more than the golden boy.
Then my nerves flare up. Taking players out to celebrate after a big game or win is normal. I did it with Holly after the Carolina Rage won the Cup and Lionel when he won player of the year. But this is Cade we’re talking about. The man I almost broke the biggest professional boundary with.
And now I have to take him out for a night on the town.
“Was it a smile like this or like this?”
Andy leans back against the orange vinyl seat and curls his lips up like the Cheshire cat before turning into the Grinch. They’re both terrifying, but they have nothing on Trevor’s creepy grin.
“Worse,” I pop open a pill bottle. In the rush of this morning, I forgot to take my Metformin. Adding that to the fact I haven’t slept, my stress is eating me alive, and the PCOS monster in my ovaries is feasting on my stress, I’m in a weird freaking mood.
Andy shivers but flashes me a conspiratorial smile.
Friends isn’t what I would call us, but it’s impossible not to see that he’s trying.
Every morning since our heart-to-heart, Andy has made it his mission to stop by my office to say hello.
I thought it was for appearances, but he proved me wrong during yesterday’s staff meeting.
When asked about ideas for the annual Permian BBQ, I offered to set up a cornhole tournament.
Even though it’s every man’s favorite game, everyone quieted when I spoke.
Then Andy raised his hand and offered to help.
Trevor glared at him the entire time, but Andy didn’t back down.
It’s nice to have something like an ally.
“I’ll go order—”
“Nope. Lunch is on me to celebrate your first All-Star Game.” He nudges my purse off the table until it tumbles into my lap. “I’m basically eating with a celebrity.”
Based on how much my name has been circling the media, I feel like one.
I wave my hand in the air. “You don’t have to buy me lunch. I already told you, I’m over what happened between us.”
His shrug is identical to the one he has given me every day for the last week after dropping a bowl of tortilla soup onto my desk. “I’m glad you’re over it, but I’m not. Buying you lunch is the least I can do.”
On the rare occasion I have time for lunch, Baja Breeze is my favorite spot. They have the best tortilla soup and dark chocolate chip cookies in the world.
Maybe some sugar will pull me out of this funk. My mind is jumbled from the conversation with Mallory. Not only did I admit that my feelings for Cade are less professional than they should be, but her comment about my job stuck with me.
“Can I ask you a question about work?”
Andy nods, his eyes on the menu in his hands. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Do you think we’re in control of our careers?”
“Like, in terms of what?”
“Getting clients and moving up in the company. Do you feel that you’re in charge of those decisions and steps?”
Tapping his chin, he hums. “Not really. Getting clients is a two-person dance. We do all we can to sign an athlete, but it could all be moot if they decide to go with someone else. Same with moving up. Winston and our supervisors make those decisions. So, no. I wouldn’t say we’re in charge or have control. ”
My lips part. I hadn’t thought about it that way before.
I lean forward. “Would you say that careers are as dicey as romantic relationships when it comes to the risks involved?”
Putting the menu down, Andy smiles, but he looks as confused as I feel. “This is too deep of a conversation to have on an empty stomach. I’ll order our food, and when I get back, we can really get into it.”
As he walks away, I mentally facepalm. Andy might not understand what I’m really asking.
Gender roles play a huge part in the way women approach their careers and love lives.
Men often feel more secure taking risks, but I don’t have that luxury.
I live every day in fear that I’ll say or do something that boots me all the way to the bottom and I’ll never recover.
I may not be able to control my career, but I can control what I put into it. If I keep working my ass off, one day, it’ll be enough.
My phone buzzes.
Cade
You look beautiful. Enjoy your lunch
A quick scan of the room doesn’t reveal the six-foot-five shortstop. The only people here are adorable families with salsa-covered children and employees in teal polos darting between tables.
I have half a mind to tell Cade to stop flirting and to mind his business, but sugar and caramelized butter steal my frustration away when Andy drops a wrapped cookie the size of my head onto the table.
“Holy shit these smell good. Chocolate chip for me. Oatmeal raisin for Hen. Dark chocolate chip for you.”
My eyes narrow. “I never told you my favorite cookie.”
As if it’s no big deal, he says, “Cade told me.” One bite in, Andy moans, loud and indecently. The family beside us halts mid-chew to stare at him. “Apparently, the Pilots come here after practice. As they were leaving, he said you’d like that one and bought our lunch.”
Cheeks warm and feeling giddy, I replace my snarky message with something nicer.
Me
Thank you for the cookie
After a moment, his name appears.
Cade
Thank you for being you