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.
Friendsisn’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 hismission 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, interms 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.”
