Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Such a fine example to kids.”
He scoffs. “No one outside of the team ever knew about it, relax. It’s funny as shit. I’ll show it to you sometime.”
Our plane touches down and I grip the armrests out of habit. Dane grins at me.
“You know the seat belt will keep you in your seat, right? You don’t actually have to hold yourself in with your hands.”
“Eat shit, I’m a nervous flier.”
“Didn’t the medicine help with that?”
I turn to him, alarmed. “What did you have the doctor give me?”
“I didn’t ask him to give you anything. I’m not a fucking doctor. He just said he’d give you something to take the edge off your anxiety and settle your stomach.”
I exhale, reminding myself that we’re on the ground and I did have a much better flight than usual.
“Sorry.”
“Hey, about you quitting your job,” he says.
“I can’t quit my job, dickface. I need the money.”
“You call all your clients dickfaces?”
“Only the one who’s a dickface.”
He groans with frustration. “Anyway. You should quit and start your own company. I can help.”
I shake my head and laugh at the suggestion. “Oh, really? And how would you do that?”
He shrugs. “I have some ideas. Let’s talk about it after the game.”
I try to remember if we’re flying out immediately after the game, and I realize I don’t even know where we are.
“What city are we in?”
“Nashville. We can’t fly out until tomorrow morning because they couldn’t coordinate the planes to get us out tonight.”
The seat belt lights go off and I unfasten mine. I remember the deadline for the Brightside presentation, and it hits me all over again that I’ve lost the account.
I’ve considered sending résumés out to other PR companies a few times, but I’ve never been able to bring myself to do it. I tell myself Jane is the hardest on me because she knows I can take it. That it’s tough love to help me succeed no matter what comes my way.
This doesn’t feel like that, though. This feels like a knife in my back. I worked at the agency for years before getting my first big solo account with Brightside. And she took it away without even telling me.
I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. I want something better for myself, but I can’t afford to miss a single paycheck. I might as well check job listing sites while I’m at the hotel and arena today, now that I don’t have any other work to do besides watching over Dane.
Dane’s first game back after his suspension is a 5–2 victory. By the time he walks out of the locker room, freshly showered and wearing a suit, it’s nearly eleven p.m. and I’m tired.
“Hey, are you guys coming out?” Lucas asks, following behind Dane.
“Nah, not tonight.”
Lucas looks agitated. “Come on, man. Come out.” He glances at me.
“No,” Dane says, and I’m relieved.
I rarely drink, and last night, I made a fool of myself. I’m looking forward to some food, a shower and a great night of sleep.
Lucas walks over to me. He’s good-looking and nice, someone I’d normally be drawn to.
“You can still come if you want to,” he says.
“Where he goes, I go.” I shrug.
Lucas glares at Dane. “Can you keep from being a drunken asshole for one night so she can have some time off her twenty-four seven job?”
Dane narrows his eyes and a prickle of awareness tingles on my skin. Fresh off his suspension, I don’t want him fighting with a teammate with reporters swarming all over.
“I appreciate the invitation, but I’m going to stay with Dane,” I say.
A smile tugs on Dane’s lips as he puts an arm around my shoulder.
“Knock it off,” I say, shrugging his arm off and scowling. “I’m not a hydrant for you to piss all over.”
“You’re a fucking toddler,” Lucas says to Dane. “I’ll see you around, Josie.”
“You ready?” Dane asks me.
“Yeah.”
“I’m doing you a favor,” he says as we walk out to the car that will take us to the hotel. “Lucas is nice and all, but he’s not the guy for you.”
“Oh? And how do you know that?”
“Because I know him. He’s too emotional.”
I laugh at his reasoning. “Meaning what?”
“When his last girlfriend cheated on him, he was a mess for like two months. He doesn’t know how to button it up and move on.”
“So he’s not a manwhore like you? That makes me like him more.”
He furrows his brow. “Just because I don’t like committed relationships, that doesn’t make me a manwhore. I’ve never promised a woman more than I was willing to give.”
“So you’re up front about it? You tell them it’s only going to be one night?”
He shrugs. “If it comes up, which it usually doesn’t.”
“And then what? The next morning, they try to give you their number and you say no thanks?”