Eli glances over. Doesn't say anything. Just looks.
I pull the phone out, chest already tight.
Caller ID:Lauren - Manager
My boss.
My stomach drops.
I stare at the screen, thumb hovering over the decline button. It rings once more, the vibration insistent against my palm.
Eli's watching now. Not obviously. But I feel his attention shift. Feel the weight of his gaze even though he's pretending to focus on the fence.
"I need to take this," I say, hating how my voice sounds. Apologetic. Guilty.
He nods once and goes back to hammering.
I walk away, boots crunching on dry grass, putting distance between us until I'm far enough that he won't hear.
I answer on the fifth ring.
"Lauren. Hi."
"Hazel! Finally. I've been trying to reach you all morning." Her voice is bright, energetic. The way it always is when she wants something. "You got a minute?"
I glance back at Eli. He's hammering a staple, shoulders tense, focused on the work.
"Yeah. What's up?"
"I'll cut to the chase. We want you back. Not just back—we want to promote you. Senior analyst. Your own team. Twentypercent raise. Full benefits package. Corner office if you want it."
The words hit like punches.
"Lauren—"
"I know what you're going to say. You're helping your aunt. Family stuff. I get it. But Hazel, this is a huge opportunity. We've got projects lined up that need someone with your skill set, and honestly? You're the only one I trust to handle them."
My throat feels tight. "That's—that's really generous. I just—"
"There's more." She's talking fast now, the way she does when she's closing a deal. "We're partnering with three new firms next quarter. International clients. The kind of portfolio that could set you up for VP track in two years. Two years, Hazel. You'd be one of the youngest VPs in the company."
VP track.
The thing I used to daydream about. The goal that kept me working late nights and weekends. The reason I convinced myself leaving here five years ago was the right choice.
"When would you need an answer?" I ask, hating how weak my voice sounds.
"That's the thing." She pauses, and I hear papers shuffling on her end. "I need to know by end of week. Thursday night at the latest. We're restructuring the whole department, and if you're not coming back, I need to move forward without you. It's not personal—it's just logistics. I have to fill the position one way or another."
Thursday.
Three days from now.
Two days before Fall Classic.
"I need to think about it," I say.
"Of course. Take your time. Well—three days." She laughs like it's a joke. "But seriously, Hazel. This is real. This is the kind of position people wait years for. The kind that doesn't come around twice. Don't let it slip away because you're stuck mucking stalls in Montana."
