I nod, unable to speak through the tightness in my throat.The Adrian interview suddenly feels like my last chance.
I clear my throat, trying to remain professional.“Thanks for letting me know.”Standing on shaky legs, I head back to my desk, where I stare at the computer screen.Ten years of experience at The Boston Times.
I can’t compete with that.
“Hello.”Violet waves her hand in front of my screen.
I blink, trying to focus.Turning to her, I let the words tumble from my heart.“There’s competition for the promotion.”
“What kind?”Violet’s eyebrows knit together.
“I need a miracle story if I want to stand a chance.”
“Shit.”Violet drops into the chair beside me.“What are you going to do?”
All I keep thinking about is the interview Adrian promised.It could be my one shot to prove I’m the right choice.
“I have something in mind.The interview with Adrian.His side.”
“Amelia, get the story.Show them that you’re the one for the job.”
Her words echo my inner thoughts, ones I’ve been too scared to voice.
The extra money that comes from the promotion will stop me from struggling.
Tannis Wenzel doesn’t know it yet, but she’s not competing for a job.She’s threatening my ability to take care of the people I love most.
Later that day, I step out of the car, ready to celebrate the hard work of setting up the fundraiser.Tomorrow is the big day.
The street buzzes with conversation and bursts of laughter from passing groups.Pulse Point Tavern’s neon sign glows, its light flickering against the windows.
I pull my beige trench coat tighter around me, suddenly questioning my outfit choice.The boots add a few inches to my height, making me feel more put-together, more confident.Dark jeans hug my legs, and the soft sweater skims my curves just right.It’s casual, but deliberate.Just enough to look like I put in effort without making it obvious.My hair falls sleek and straight over my shoulders, and I only did the bare minimum with my makeup with a little mascara, a hint of color on my cheeks and lips.Anything more, and he might think I dressed up for him.Which, in fact, I secretly did.
Stepping inside, warmth rushes over me, carrying the scents of beer, fried food, and smoke.A loud cheer from a group gathered around the TV watching the latest football game pulls me in.The bar is packed, a mix of post-work drinkers, friends catching up, and people like me, meeting someone.
Leon, the bartender, spots me instantly.
“Hey, Amelia.How’s your mom?”he asks, coming over to wipe down the bar in front of me.
I force a polite smile.“She’s good.”
It’s always about her.No one ever asks how I am.I swallow down the familiar frustration and look around, scanning the crowd.
“What about you?”Leon leans against the counter.“What brings you in tonight?”
I smile.“Meeting a friend.”
“Anyone in particular?”
Before I can answer, my gaze lands on Adrian.
He’s seated at a table, already watching me.His lips curve into something subtle, something unreadable, then his eyes flick down, taking me in from head to toe.Heat rushes up my neck, and I have to fight the instinct to shift from foot to foot under his intense scrutiny.I swallow hard, suddenly too warm beneath my coat.
“Want me to bring a drink over?”Leon asks.
“Has he ordered?”
“No, he was waiting for you.”
