“Always.”
By the time we got back to Jesse’s house after dinner, I already had an email from Raina. I waited until he’d gone upstairs to change before opening it, not wanting to squeal like a fangirl, even in front of him.
Hi Emily,
I’m sorry for the random message, but I think finding Sharon’s post about you was a sign. I’m writing a memoir and have no idea where to start or how to write, to behonest. Unlike you, my strengths in school were only in soccer and not words.
I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I’d love to work with you to bring my story to life. Not only do you come highly recommended as an editor (I contacted a few of your clients before reaching out to Sharon), but you obviously know soccer too. I’ve seen some videos of you playing in college, and I was really impressed. From what I saw, you absolutely could have made it a career, but I completely get why you didn’t.
There are a few events I’m supposed to attend in the next couple of months that I want to mention in the book, and I was curious if you’d be interested in coming to California for the next few months to both attend the events and work with me on the book. It could be two months or as many as six. I won’t be able to give you an answer until we get started.
Please email me or call me at the number below if you’re interested. Either way, I loved reading about your journey and success.
“What’s wrong?”
I jumped when I found Jesse next to me on the couch, his body rigid with panic as he searched my face.
“Shit, you scared me.”
“Well, you scared me too. You look like you just saw a ghost.” He squeezed my knee. “What’s going on?”
“Sharon must have given Raina my information as soon as she saw us tonight. I already have an email from her.” I kept my gaze on the carpet as Jesse squinted at me in my periphery.
“Okay, so I thought that would be a good thing.” He scooted over and glanced at my phone screen. “What did she say?”
“Sharon was right. She’s writing a memoir, and she wants me to help her write it, not just edit it.”
“Is that something you’ve done before? Is that why you look so nervous?”
“Yes. I haven’t in a while, but I’ve ghostwritten in the past.” I rubbed at my temple. “She thinks I know enough about soccer that I can help her craft the story, and although I prefer editing, actually helping to write her story would be an amazing privilege.”
“That’s great. You’re going to do it, right?”
“I want to. Grandpa would flip if he were still alive. He thought for sure I’d be on a World Cup team someday.”
“You could have been if you’d wanted to.” He rested his head on my shoulder and kissed my cheek. “What’s stopping you?”
“I’d have to go over the details with her, but she’d want me to come to California for a few months so I could attend a few events with her that she wants included in the book. And work with her during the day to write it.”
Jesse’s grin faded in almost slow motion. Maybe it wasn’t the same, but that identical dread from twenty years ago spread in the pit of my stomach.
I loved being here with Jesse and Maddie, and although we hadn’t discussed it again, I was seriously considering giving up the apartment I hardly used and taking Jesse up on his offer to move in. This was a curve ball I’d never expected, but as much as I wanted to stay, I couldn’t ignore it.
“Can you do that with the clients you already have?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’d have to see what my downtime would be like. I have a lighter schedule over the next two months and could probably handle a big project like this. Beyond that, I’d have to see if I’d have the time to work on what I have scheduled.” I dragged a hand through my hair and dropped my chin to my chest. “Please don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what? I’m sorry, I’m just a little surprised. I didn’t think she’d want you to travel to her. You have clients all over the country, and they don’t make you come to them, right?”
“No. I’ll probably decline, but?—”
“But you want to do it?”
“I at least want to reply and look into it.”
Jesse gave me a slow nod when I met his gaze. How could I leave him again? And Maddie. Mom was doing well, already up and walking with a cane. She had daily therapy and liked the rehab facility she was recovering in, but across the country was a lot of miles away from the people I loved.
“I’m just going to tell her no. I’ll say thank you for contacting me, but I can’t make this work.”
