Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Post-date recaps are supposed to be filled with tequila, laughs, overly-personal stories, and tea—not the drinking kind.
Not trying to figure out where I went wrong.
And twelve hours later, I’m at the company picnic, where I need to wear my best face and act as if I didn’t lose the client I poured my heart and soul into over the last three months.
I knew there was a chance I wouldn’t land Garrett Blane, but things had felt so promising—golfing, regular check-ins, and answering every question he threw my way. Maybe it was na?ve to be so hopeful. He’s not the first client I’ve lost, but somehow, this one cuts deeper.
The fact that he signed with Jon Sweeney was icing on the shit cake. If the world knew what he did to Cade, nobody would ever work with him again.
A cold mist snaps me out of my thoughts.
When I turn around, Cade’s hazels are sorrowful, apologizing for more than surprising me with a blast of sunscreen. He hasn’t stopped apologizing since leaving me with the girls last night.
I pull myself a little taller. “Make sure you give my shoulders extra love. Too many Black people assume we don’t need it, but we can get skin cancer too.”
A real smile breaks through when he laughs, and I turn my gaze to Permian’s building across the street.
This is my second company BBQ, but the first one couldn’t have been more different.
Last year, I came alone, too ashamed to ask one of the girls to join me, and spent five hours on the edge of the crowd, watching everyone else have fun.
This time, I’m anything but alone. Cade hasn’t left my side for more than thirty seconds. I had to beg him to leave to get me a hot dog.
I take a deep breath and let him sun-proof the rest of my body, but my thoughts snag on the words everyone has been telling me. That losing Garrett Blane isn’t the end. That it’s a detour. That all my hard work will lead to something better down the road.
I want to believe them. I really do. But I’m struggling.
A hand to my shoulder stops my anxious sway. “You okay?”
“I’m great,” I lie automatically. Then I remember the promises we made about doing this right and being honest. Even when it stings. “No, I’m not,” I admit. “I’m sad, nervous, and need the promotion.”
Something eases in his expression at my honesty. “I know, baby. Thank you for telling me.” Sitting in front of me, he grips my waist like an anchor. “That promotion is yours. No one’s more qualified than you. Nobody compares to you.”
It’s exactly what I need to hear, but before I can respond, Andy and Henrietta bound over like golden retrievers who heard the world walk.
“Stop sitting around, you two! It’s time to have some fun!” Andy grins, but it’s stretched wider than normal. Everyone’s treating me like I’m made of glass today.
That faint flicker of pity in Henrietta’s eyes tells me she knows about Garrett too. “Ignore him. He’s just excited.” She takes his hand. “He wants to ask if you guys want to warm up for the cornhole tournament with us. I need to practice if we’re going to make it past the first round.”
After promising them I’ll be over soon and convincing Cade that I just need a moment alone, they leave me in the shade.
I’ve come to the conclusion it’s not my pride that’s hurt.
It’s my heart. I gave Garrett everything I had.
The phone calls and middle-of-the-night texts, meeting his fiancée, and even learning how to golf.
Everything I did was preparing me to be the best agent for him, and he went with Jon motherfucking Sweeney.
Loss is part of the job. I signed up for hard times, long nights, exhausting days, constant noes, never-ending travel, and sexist and misogynistic comments—okay, maybe I didn’t sign up for that those—but I really wanted this client.
Then Mallory’s voice echoes in my head, repeating her favorite line.
“Kick them in the dick and keep your head held high.”
That seems to do the trick, and I find myself counting down.
Ten. Nine. Eight.
Garrett not signing with me isn’t the worst thing in the world.
Seven. Six. Five.
It doesn’t mean I won’t have a successful career here. They haven’t even announced the promotion yet.
Four. Three. Two.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel.
One.
Cade would be proud of me for that optimistic thought. He’s been my rock since I got the call. Even though I went inside with The Quartet for a post-date recap, he had pizza delivered for us as I questioned every interaction Garrett and I had.
Did I slip up? Come off as unprofessional at any point? Was he upset that I beat him at golf?
Could it be the fact that I’m dating Cade?
I give my head a quick shake and banish the thought. Whether it’s the truth or not, I can’t spend my career wondering if my decision to chase happiness bit me in the ass.
My phone buzzes beneath my leg, and I reach for it.
Holly Trent
Here if you need a laugh
Or a cry
I’m a professional crier <3
I snort, send back a pink heart emoji, and reply to my other clients’ messages. After Garrett’s public announcement this morning, they rallied around me.
All I can do is focus on the future, which is getting that promotion.
“Turner.”
The deep voice is booming but kind. Winston.
“Hi,” I say as he sinks into the chair beside me. “Great BBQ you planned for us today.”
He points at the stunning redhead throwing a frisbee.
“Thank the wife for that. And thank you for planning the cornhole tournament with Andy. She’s beyond excited to play.
” The lovey dovey expression on his face morphs into something more serious as he faces me and removes his sunglasses.
“I’m sorry about Garrett Blane. I know you put in a lot of effort to get him on the Permian team. ”
The sorrow in his eyes is too much, and I have to look away. “Thanks, Winston. I’ll be okay.”
“Of course you will. You’re a tenacious one. When I was in your position, there were more losses than I’d like to admit. It’s part of the process, so don’t let it get you down for too long, okay?” He stands. “Brighter things are coming for you soon, Turner. I’m sure of it.”
As he walks away to join his wife, a tiny spike of hope shoots through me. I feel as if we just shared some secret, and I can’t lie. It completely boosts my mood.
Now I’m ready to play some cornhole.
“Come on, Andy!” Henrietta bounces up and down beside me. “Sink the damn thing already!”
I wasn’t expecting to go against my only work friend and his girlfriend in the championship, but here we are. Andy stares down the board with an intensity I’ve only ever seen when charcuterie is involved.
The red beanbag leaves his hand and slaps the board, mere inches from the hole.
Opponents or not, Hen grabs my hand. “Great job, babe!” she cheers.
Cade pats Andy’s back proudly before refocusing on the task in front of him.
It’s unnerving to see him like this. This is exactly how he looks when waiting for a pitch or standing between second and third base, and I love having a front-row seat to his composed demeanor. Being neck-in-neck relaxes him.
“It’s not fair,” Trevor grumbles behind me. “He’s a pro at a game that has to do with throwing balls.”
He’s only pissed because we took him out in the first round.
Trevor has become unbearable since Cade and I started dating. His passive-aggressive comments are relentless, and it makes me want this promotion even more. I can get out from under his thumb and work under Greg, who’s better than Trevor.
“Shouldn’t have bet against him then, Trev,” Winston jokes.
The corner of Cade’s lip ticks up, the only hint he hears what’s going on behind me. Then he pulls his arm back and throws the blue beanbag high in the air.
It soars for what feels like forever before landing directly in the hole and smacking the grass beneath it.
“Woohoo! Pay up, boys,” Iris hollers as Trevor, Kyle, and Jonah slap twenty-dollar bills against her palm. “Winnie! Dinner’s on me tonight.”
Winston’s wife is even better than I could’ve imagined. The former softball phenom would have probably won the whole tournament if it weren’t for her husband, who doesn’t have an athletic bone in his body.
I rush across the field to meet Cade, and he hoists me into the air, spinning me in circles.
“Nice game, partner. How are you feeling about that win?”
“Damn good. Might have to keep you around, baseball boy.” I laugh against his lips, but my attention is stolen by the hoard of khaki shorts moving toward the pavilion, and Winston’s encouragement comes to the front of my mind. “Now it’s time for another win.”
Once in the shade, I grab a water bottle and ease into Cade’s sturdy side as Winston takes his spot at the front.
“Gather around everyone,” Winston booms. “I know we all came out here for the free food and beer, but we need to talk about work for a bit. Over the last few months, the intermediate agent position has been open. It has been tough, but the senior agents and myself have worked diligently to choose who will best fill the position Levi left behind.”
Trevor boos. “Screw him!”
“Agreed, but it’s been nice to dive a bit deeper into the Permian’s junior agents. I’m so impressed by everyone who submitted their letters of intent. I wish I had multiple positions because choosing one applicant was difficult.”
My hand finds Cade’s, and he gives it the perfect squeeze. I’m here.
“I’d like to announce Permian’s new intermediate agent. When I say the name of the individual, please help me give this phenomenal employee the celebration they deserve.”
There are only four junior agents, which means there’s a twenty-five percent chance the job is mine, but I don’t feel deterred by those odds.
I’ve worked my ass off for this position.
I have the most clients out of us, and I’ve given them and Permian every ounce of my blood, sweat, and tears since the moment I got here.
And today, I’ll earn their respect.
“Get on up here and accept your promotion!”
I step forward instinctively, but a tight grip on my hand pulls me back. When I look up to see why Cade stopped me, his eyes are full of a desperate kind of grief.
“I’m sorry, Shay,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
“For?” I ask, but as the question leaves my mouth, I turn and spot Jonah at the front. He looks as if he won the lottery, and even though I want to be upset, I can’t help but think of the joy he must be feeling.
The joy I thought I’d get to feel.
I don’t flinch when the celebratory bottles of champagne start to pop. They’re mostly drowned out by the roar of blood in my ears.
“Shay,” Cade tries, but I don’t give him the chance.
“I need to go.” I step back. “I’m going to run to the restroom.”
“Let me go with you. Please, baby.”
No. He can’t watch what’s about to happen.
“It’s okay. I’ll be back.”
I march away from the pavilion without another word. My pace doesn’t slow as I make it to the sidewalk, cross the street, burst through the front doors of Permian, and run up four flights of stairs.
Tears threaten to fall as I step into my office, but they vanish at the sight of my laptop still on, sticky notes with plans scattered around, and papers strewn across my desk.
I spent the whole morning before the BBQ crafting a new game plan.
I’d add Simon Godfrey to my team and keep building my roster.
I’ve spent so long dedicating all my time and energy to this job.
To Permian.
Nobody’s owed a job, but damn, I worked so hard for it.
Instead of crying, I pack everything into my bag. I’m finally going to use some of that paid time off I’ve been sitting on. I need to breathe in some air that doesn’t flow from a Permian Sports Agency vent.