“You can think about it,” Sarah tells me. “Brooke’s already booked everything for Wimbledon, so that’s taken care of. And I won’t have time to look for anyone else until after.”
“Thanks,” say. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. It’d be a great opportunity, but . . .” I trail off, trying to make sense of my thoughts.
“I get it,” Sarah says gently. “It’d painful to be back on the tour as a PA. But I wanted to ask, just in case?—”
“It’s not that,” I interrupt. “It’s been long enough, I think it’d be okay. But . . .”
“Is it because of your thing with your boss?” she asks curiously. “You think it might go somewhere?”
“No,” I blurt. I can’t let myself think that. “Drew and I have a three month arrangement. And he’s not my boss anymore. But I . . .”
Sarah’s expression makes it clear she’s not entirely convinced. “But you. . .” she prompts.
I take a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking of going back to school.”
“Really? That’s great.” She looks surprised, which is understandable, since she knows how much I disliked community college. “What would you study?”
“Nursing, probably. The community college has a two year practical nursing program that might be an option.”
“I didn’t know you were interested in nursing,” Sarah says. “That’s exciting.”
Exciting seems like the wrong word, but nursing seems like a sensible choice. Working as an admin assistant isn’t particularly stimulating, and I can’t imagine doing it for the next forty years.
And ever since I met Melissa at the barbecue, I’ve been toying with the idea of going back to school. If she can go to Teacher’s College while parenting two kids, there’s no reason I can’t go back to school and do something.
So over the past week, I’ve been looking at programs online. I looked at Somerset University first, but my high school grades weren’t stellar and I’m not sure I’d get in. It’s painful to think about the scholarship offers I turned down at eighteen, when top American schools wanted me for their tennis teams.
But I might get into a practical nursing program at community college. The tuition’s significantly less than university would be, and it’s two years instead of four. I’d have to get a student loan, but if I kept working part-time I might get through without an astronomical debt load.
“I haven’t applied yet,” I tell Sarah, “but I’m probably going to. It’s too late to apply for September, but there’s an option to start in January.”
“Good for you. Let me know if you change your mind, though. The PA job’s yours if you want it.”
“Thanks, Sarah.”
She smiles. “I almost forgot, I rented a house for Wimbledon. There’ll be an extra bedroom if you want to come.”
“Are you staying with Piers?” I ask.
“No, he’ll have his own place,” she says with a chuckle. “We didn’t want to distract each other. But my parents are coming over for it.”
“I wish I could,” I tell her truthfully. She’s invited me to tournaments before, but this is the first time I’ve wanted to go. “But there’s no way I’d get the time off work.”
“That sucks,” she says with a frown. “Oops, I have to go, I’m meeting Piers for dinner.”
“Right, of course,” I say. “Say hi to Piers for me.” I highly doubt Piers remembers who I am, but whatever.
“Will do,” she says with a grin.
I disconnect the call and go back to folding my laundry.
Sarah’s job offer is tempting, and part of me wants to take it. I doubt being her PA would be more stimulating than what I’m currently doing—I’d basically still be working as an admin assistant—but I bet it’d be more fun. I never minded the travel aspect of the tennis tour, and I’m sure it’d be even better now that Sarah can afford decent hotels.
And I might get to help Sarah train, and that would definitely be more fun than what I’m currently doing. I could keep her company on runs, even be a hitting partner if she thinks I’m good enough.
Not to mention that instead of paying college tuition, I’d be making sixty grand a year. American dollars.
Seen from that perspective, only a fool would turn down the job.
