CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
WALKER
My phone buzzes in my hand, dragging my thoughts away from the nerves fused to my bones. A reminder that I'm about to take one big step towards the future.
My future.
The thing I've been dreaming about for the last few years.
SUNNY
You have nothing to worry about. You can do this.
I believe in you.
My eyes are fixed to the encouraging words on my screen, trying to stomp down the nerves currently working their way up my throat. No part of me thought I would be nervous when the time came to interview for potential internships, but then again, I've never had to do this before. Mr. Richards handed one over simply because I was the kid from around town that he knew and wanted to help out.
"Mr. Bodie? They're ready for you," the receptionist calls my attention from the front desk with a smile on her lips. The big Gilmore and Boseman sign stands out on the shiny marble-finished wall behind her. The sleek office complemented by the greenery spread throughout the waiting room, bringing life into the otherwise chic space. "Right this way."
I swallow the last of my nerves and follow after the clicking sound of heels on the smooth tile floor as she leads me down the corridor. Sonya's words pressed to my skin, playing as a constant reminder in my mind all the way to Jillian Boseman's office, one of the founding members.
"Ms. Boseman, I have Walker Bodie here for you," Erica, the receptionist says after knocking to make our presence known.
I hear some shuffling on the other side of the door before Erica offers me a reassuring smile on her way back to the front desk.
"Mr. Bodie! Please, come in," Ms. Boseman says, waving me in as she stands from her chair and moves around the cherry wood desk to greet me. "It's wonderful to finally meet you. Weston put in a great word about you. I've been looking forward to getting to meet you."
Professor Abbott's first name sounds weird coming out of her mouth. I've grown so accustom to greeting him with his job title and last name, that hearing anything else in reference to him is like a shock to my system.
"I have been too," I say, offering her my hand when I step into her office and meet her halfway. "Thank you for taking the time out of your day to meet with me."
She nods, giving my hand a firm shake before gesturing for me to sit in the chair across from her desk. I take a slow breath in and choose one of the two leather seats, setting my bag in the empty chair and brace myself for the tough questions I'm sure are about to come my way.
"Why do you want to be a lawyer?" she asks, leaning back in her chair with her hands resting gently in her lap and it was not at all the question I was expecting.
It feels too simple. I prepared all night with Sonya, had her ask me the questions Professor Abbott had given me when I told him about the interview. My career goals, my job history and everything in between. I was ready to talk about my classes, my grade point averages and my accomplishments in the last three years.
I had it all laid out in front of me, but I wasn't prepared for such an easy question.
Jillian smiles across from me when she sees, what I can only assume to be confusion on my face. "It's not a trick question, Walker. When Grant and I started this firm, we decided we wanted to surround ourselves with good people. I can tell from your resume and cover letter that your experience and schooling is the right fit for us, but I want to know who you are. So, no trick questions, no formal setting, just tell me why you want this."
A small laugh slips onto my lips. "It took me a while to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. It wasn't until the town lawyer in the small town I grew up in needed some help around his office offered me a summer job that it kind of clicked into place. And if I'm being honest, I think it was an entirely selfish reason," I admit out loud for the first time.
"How so?" she asks, a curious look on her face.
"I like feeling needed."
All my life it's been my mom and me. I needed her and she needed me. It was an equal balance until I left for school. It felt a little selfish taking what I wanted, but at the end of the day, it comes down to my need to be useful to other people. It's why when I saw how much the people in my town turned to Mr. Richards. I wanted to be that, too.
"I was raised by a single mom, and a lot of the time, she needed me to help. I think as I got older, it turned into this desire to be everything for everyone. Many could say I'm a people pleaser, which I won't deny. I am. I want people to want to come to me when they need help. It's who I am, and even if I thought I could change that, I wouldn't. I'm loyal to a fault, and I think that's part of the reason why I felt such a kinship with this career path. I fight to make things better for people, and when they put their trust in me? That's everything."
She nods her head. "I couldn't agree more. Being a safe place for people to land, to depend on. It's the best part of the job," she shares, leaning forward to rest her arms on the edge of her desk. "May I ask why you won't be interning with your town lawyer again?"
Sonya fills my thoughts—her laugh, her smile, her glow.
"I thought it was because I wanted more, and that's true for the most part, but I think it's because I want to be here so I'm close to someone else."
My decision to stay in a big city after law school was entirely my own, but the longer I look at it, the easier it is to realize that opinion slowly started to cement after Sonya found her way into my life. As much as the choice is for me and my future, it's also because I can't imagine being anywhere she's not.
"A partner?"
"Something like that," I say.
"It's important to have a good support system at home," Jillian says. "This career can become a lot. Having someone to be your calm is important."
I nod my head in agreement, because that's exactly what Sonya is. And truthfully, it might be what she always has been.
"How'd it go?" Sonya asks when I settle in my car after my interview.
We spent another twenty minutes talking before Ms. Boseman informed me that she had a few more interviews to get through, but that she enjoyed our conversation. It left me feeling light on my walk out to the car, and the moment I got to my car, the only thing I wanted was hear Sonya's voice.
Now she's grinning at me through the screen of my phone, and all I can do is bask in the ray of light her smile is. God, I am so utterly fucked.
"It was good. Way more causal than I was expecting," I share, holding my phone up to drink her in. "I'm feeling hopefully about it."
"That's fantastic, Cowboy. You'll be a great addition to their team."
I laugh. "I wouldn't get too far ahead of yourself. I've got to get the job first," I say, but I can't help the smile that fills my face knowing she believes in me.
"I'm not getting ahead of myself. As someone who's had the great pleasure of having you in their life. I know what they're missing out on and how impossible it will be to do that," she shares. "Have you thought about talking to your mom yet?"
I shake my head. "Not yet. I want to make sure—"
"That you have something in place first, I know," she says, effectively cutting me off. "What about Mr. Richards? Maybe instead of diving right in with your mom, you could start somewhere easier. Talk to him, tell him the truth and see what he says."
My throat tightens at the prospect of having to face him. His email has sat in my inbox, unopened. I thought if I let it sit there and didn't look, I could ignore it, but I should have known better. Now that Sonya knows the truth, she's going to push and unlike with Flynn, it's difficult for me to say no to her.
"Sunny, I don't know if I can."
"You can."
"You sound so sure," I say, running my fingers through my hair. "I don't think it's that simple. I lied to her and led her on."
"Okay, how about…if you don't do it, I won't have sex with you for a week."
My laugh fills the car. "Only a week?"
"I'm not completely insane," she says, grinning. "And a girl has needs."
"No, of course not," I say with a teasing smile. "I'll call him, okay?"
"Oh, yeah? That easy, huh?"
"What can I say? You found my weakness."
"Good," she says. "I'll keep that in mind for the future. Did you want to meet at Adam's? We can get pie to celebrate. My treat."
"Celebrate?"
She nods. "A pre-celebration. We'll celebrate again when you get the official offer."
"I have about a forty-five minute drive ahead of me, but yeah, that sounds good," I say, watching as her lips tug up into the kind smile she saves just for me.
"I'll be waiting. And Walker?"
I hum.
"I am so proud of you," she says, a glimmer in her gaze when our eyes meet. Her words of encouragement wrap around me tightly, warming me up.
Emotion gets clogged in my throat, and I wish a thank you was enough to express my gratitude for her. For every kind word, and every sweet smile, but instead I settle on, "I'll see you a bit? Don't miss me too much."
"I'll try my best, but no promises," she says before ending the call and leaving me in the silence of my car as I take a deep breath and scroll through my contacts until my thumb is hovering over Mr. Richards' name.
I've dragged this out for far too long, and I've hit the point where I have no choice but to face the fact that I made this bed for myself. Mr. Richards has done a lot for me over the years, and I owed him this conversation a lot sooner, but like the coward I've been all semester, I haven't found it in me to just be honest with him. And myself.
"Walker! How are you doing, kid?" Mr. Richards voice is eager and warm, exactly as I remember it. I expect it to put me at ease, hearing his voice and knowing he's always been my voice of reason, but it does the opposite. It tightens my muscles.
"Hey, Mr. Richards," I say, swallowing. "I've been good. I, uh, I actually just finished an interview for an internship in Rosenthal."
I can almost hear the smile in his voice when he says, "I figured there was a reason I hadn't heard from you yet. How'd it go?"
"You're not mad?"
"Mad? Walker, I couldn't be prouder of you. I was going to have a chat with you if you did accept my offer. I was doing it for your mom's benefit, and I fear this might also be the reason you agreed to it in the first place," he explains, and my chest loosens a bit. "You are so much more than Ashmore, Georgia, my boy. You deserve a chance to do some good in the world. Now, tell me how the interview went."
I smile and sink into my seat. "It was good. Really good," I admit. "I think I might have gotten it and as much as that excites me, I don't know how to tell my mom. She's been banking on me coming home after I finish school, and I'm not really sure why I led her on. Why I led you both on, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do now."
"Because you're a good kid and you didn't want to hurt her. For as long as I've known you, Walker, you have wanted to make people happy. Especially the ones closest to you, and I think you thought you were doing what was best for her at the time," he shares. "But you deserve to have what you want. Your mom, she's so immensely proud of you. You can see it on her face when she's at the gallery and you come up. You have nothing to worry about. Just don't keep dragging it out."
"Thank you, Mr. Richards," I say, letting out the breath I've been holding in for weeks. "For everything."
"You didn't need to thank me. You are where you are because of you and you've made me so proud. I'm glad I got to see you grow from the kid who didn't know what he wanted into the self-assured man you are now," he tells me. "Now, you've got to talk to your mom."