“And honestly, being able to fake a relationship isn’t the worst skill set in this job. We work in marketing and publicity. Appearances matter. But I also want you to know I care about you as a friend, and I want you to be able to come to me if you have any problems.”
“I do know that,” I say, then my brain replays what he just said.Come to me. He’s speaking in the present tense. He’s speaking about the future. I’m practically holding my breath as I ask, “Does that mean…?”
His smile is pleased, proud even. “Your work speaks for itself. The fact that you went the extra mile to plan the Hockey Is for Everyone initiative clinched it for me. I need someone who’s an overachiever.”
Fireworks shoot in my chest. “That’s definitely me.”
He stands, extends a hand, and says, “Welcome to the Golden State Foxes full-time.”
I shake his hand accepting the offer, moving forward into a bright, new future that fits me so much more than the one I left behind.
* * *
When I leave work that night, I walk through the concourse, passing the now empty beer stand where Jameson used to work. I guess he wasn’t able to renew his lease here without all his unearned product placement. Boohoo.
Later at my place, I break out a bottle of champagne I bought myself almost two months ago. Lake’s here in my kitchen, and we’re celebrating my new job. “I made you a promise I’d crack this open when I was over that jackass. But I’ve been over him for a long time,” I say, filling a flute.
“I know,” he says, leaning against the counter, his stance casual, his gaze locked on me.
“How do you know I’ve been over him for a long time?”
He shrugs, cocky, confident. “Because you have me.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes, then I swallow some champagne. It tastes like how happiness feels. “I do have you.”
My sister was right. There is no mandatory time period to get over someone who hurt you. You move on when you move on. You date when you date. You fall in love when you fall in love. And it’s best to let it happen, rather than fight it.
He lifts the glass to his lips and knocks some back, then sets it on the counter. “And now I’ll drink some off you.”
Lake Axelrod tosses me over his shoulder, carries me to my bed, and strips me down to nothing, showing me once again his favorite way to drink champagne.
The next day in the kitchen, I take another step forward. As I water my succulents, I say to him, “I think I’m ready for something else too.”
“What is it?”
I turn my gaze to the plants, then give him a knowing look.
He growls like a warning, maybe even an order. “I’m going with you.”
But he doesn’t need to issue a command. I always planned on taking him. “You sure are.”
* * *
After Lake’s game, we go to the Little Friends rescue, where I visit with a young Terrier named Pearl, a fluffy middle-aged Pomeranian mix named Frito, and an older Chihuahua mix named Minnie.
Her tan fur is dusted with silver, her eyes with white fur.She’s not the fastest dog, but she walks to me with purpose, then lifts her chin and asks for pets.
I oblige happily, then pick her up.
She lets out one of those little dog sighs and curls up into my arms.
Sometimes you just know. I take her home and name her Katrina. After she’s settled into my home, Lake swings by, a car seat buckled into the back of his car just for her. I clip her in, and we drive up to Cozy Valley, turn into Big Steps Ranch, then bump along the gravel driveway till we reach the big farmhouse.
I hop out, unclip Katrina, and set the little old lady on the ground. She takes her sweet time sniffing everything on the way to the porch. When she reaches the steps, she lifts her face, surprised, I suspect, to see someone waiting there for her on the porch swing.
It’s Lake’s father, and he’s sitting outside.
Katrina trots over to him, and they sit in the sun, listening to the birds. My heart is full.
