I wanted to take her back to one of our hotel rooms, but that sure as hell wasn’t going slow. I owed it to her to be mature and find time for us to learn more about each otheroutside of the bedroom. That would happen, for sure. But not yet.
“I think we should work on your interview.”
Her shoulders slumped, and her entire body tensed. “Right, the interview.”
“Are you not looking forward to the opportunity?” I studied her. She blinked a lot and shifted her weight side to side.
“What do you mean? Of course I’m excited, but nervous too.” She crossed her arms and stepped away from me. A sure sign of defensiveness.
“When I mentioned the interview, your entire body changed. Do you not want to talk about it? We don’t have to, if you explain what’s going through your pretty head.”
“I do want to talk about it. It’s just…” She tightened her eyes to slits. Her hands flailed in the air, and her mouth twisted into a thousand expressions that I couldn’t stop watching.
I knew Char in so many ways, but the thought of learning everything about her excited me. She spoke fast when she was nervous and used her hands when she was passionate. I’d seen her have whole conversations with her hands wild in the air, and I loved it. This insecurity coming from her was new, and it didn’t sit right with me. She wasn’t insecure about anything.
She had a heart of gold, would improve anyone’s life she entered, and truly believed in building up people. It was a no-brainer that she was right for the job. She just had to believe it, and she didn’t right now. I could help with that.
She struggled, and I took her hand in mine, interrupting her. “Okay, before you answer, we’re going to do an activity. Let me grab some paper and a table.”
“You’re using your coaching voice on me. Not sure if I’ve told you this before, I like this version of you, Coach Porter.”
“Then be a good girl and let me help you,” I fired back, enjoying the way her eyes lit up. This new level of banter was top tier. Big fan of this stage of our relationship. “There, go sit at that booth near the fire.”
“Say please.”
This time my body lit up. I liked hearing the command in her voice. “Please, Char, go have a seat so I can help explain to you why you’re the whole fucking package. Now, stop sassing me. It’s distracting.”
She grinned and almost had a skip in her step as she moved toward a booth. I found a pen and pad of paper near the host stand, and I snatched them. I placed them on the table and tapped my finger on them. “What do you have so far?”
“Meaning… my résumé? I already applied.”
“Great. I meant plans. Practice plans, program goals, merch ideas. I’ve worked with a lot of high school coaches, and they always need fundraising. How are you gonna bring in more funds for the softball program? What makes you different than Chad?”
She shrugged, the same defeated look crossing her face. That was just unacceptable.
“Charlotte, honey, here’s what you’re going to do. Write down ten things about yourself that are amazing. We all getimpostor syndrome from time to time, but I refuse to let you live in this headspace. The Char I know wouldn’t back down from a challenge before it even happened, and that’s what your body language tells me.”
“It’s not that I’m backing down before the interview.” She spoke with more fire than before, which made me happy.
She spun the ring on her middle finger around and around. “I’ll go and do my best, but I know Chad will get the job. He and the athletic director are friends. They go to happy hour together and make it very clear that I’m not in the ‘cool circle’ of coaches.” She pushed her hair behind her ears, her jaw set in a hard line. “I’m naive to think I have a real chance, because I know how this ends.”
My blood boiled at the resignation in her voice. “You can read the future? When did that happen?”
“You know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes.
“No, Charlotte, I don’t.” I shoved the piece of paper at her and handed her the pen. “You’re going to write down ten things about yourself and show why you deserve this. Is the AD the only one on the panel? I don’t give a shit about Chad and him being friends. It’s about the sport and the program and—most importantly—the athletes. Write the list down.”
She sucked in a breath, and I softened my voice, aware that I had let my annoyance drip into my tone. “I refuse to hear you talk about yourself like you’re not deserving of everything. If I’m around, my woman isn’t accepting defeat until the decision is made.”
Her face relaxed, and neither one of us mentioned the factthat I saidmy womanlike a twenty-first-century caveman. It was how I felt though.
“What if I can’t come up with ten things?”
“Write. The. List.”
She wet her lips before finally taking the damn pen to the paper. She twirled it around her fingers once, twice, and then a third time, but she hadn’t written a single thing. That was fine. If she wanted to have a test of patience, I’d win.
I had a three-year-old gremlin at home. I practiced patience all day, every day. I survived potty training with a strong-willed child. I was the king of patience.
