Page 97 of Waiting for Her

When Grady was called in to speak with the board, they let him know they were on his side, didn’t plan to make any changes and had only seen both of us being completely professional since I started.

Grady and I both felt guilty. He should have spoken up when he found out I was the one doing the article, and I should have been more forthcoming about our past. Our hearts got in the way of our senses, and speaking for myself, I wanted to see him. I needed to make things right between us in a way that clouded my judgement.

I don’t regret a thing. I would have chosen Grady over doing the right thing all over again, even knowing the outcome.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Here it goes. I’ve never been so nervous than I am right now. If he says no, I don’t know what I’ll do. Ineedhim on my side because there’s no one else I can trust. “I have a proposition.”

“Oh boy.”

I smile. “Hear me out, okay? I admit I’m in the wrong here. I’m adult enough to know I should have told you the full story. And I should have told you I also took the job to get my guy back.” It’s the first time I’ve admitted it out loud I had ulterior motives to accepting the story. Sure, I wanted to write it but not because I knew I’d do it justice.

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. I knew what I was doing, even if I didn’t want to admit it at the time.”

“What the hell, Bri?”

I wince. “I know! But you have to trust me. This is going to be totally unorthodox…”

He groans, interrupting me. “Ah shit.”

Trying not to laugh at his obvious discomfort, I rush to continue. “It’s not bad! I promise. All the interviews and information I’ve gathered up to this point I understand are owned by the magazine.” I press my lips together before blurting out the idea I hope he won’t immediately reject. “But given this is my last piece for you, I wantyouto write the story.”

“I’m not a writer.”

“Sure you are. Or, you used to be. But Simon, I can’t have this story written by just anyone. It’s too personal.” He knows I’m right and I’m pretty sure he’s curious, at the very least. Because even though he says he’s not a writer, it’s in his blood and I know he misses it.

He whistles lowly. “Boy when you said it was going to be unorthodox, you weren’t kidding. Bri, this is…”

“I know. You’ll have to get permission, and this is something that likely will never be seen again but that makes sense, right? I mean, Grady is too young to be a head D1 coach yet, here he is, kicking ass. I was too young to get an exclusive like this yet… here I well, was,” I chuckle. “Nothing about the past month and a half has been normal but that’s what’s incredible about it.”

“How…” his voice trails off and I imagine him pacing in his office, probably wishing he had a secret whiskey stash hidden somewhere. “Okay.”

“Okay?” my voice comes out high and squeaky.

He chuckles. “But this is me paying you back for introducing me to the love ofmylife. If I had been away from Ava for six years and had the chance to get her back, nothing would stand in my way. And, I still need it to go through Charles.”

I smile in triumph. I’ve loved Charles since my first day on the job. He’s a big old teddy bear of a man who, to the rest of the world, appears mean and burly but he’s really just a softy. Not long after I started working forSI,we sat next to each other at a holiday dinner. His wife sat on the other side of him, a lovely woman who reminded me of my grandma. When he introduced us, he told me he fell in love with her in the seventh grade and never looked back. I must not have a very good poker face because he immediately asked me who the guy was. He told me never to give up and do whatever it takes to get him back.

I swallow down my assuredness, knowing I did just as he said. “I understand,” I tell him in a calm voice.

“I’m gonna miss you around here. What’s your plan?”

“Step one is already done.”

“Bri’s got herself a boyfriend,” he sing-songs.

“Damn right. And this time, I’m not letting go.”

Grady

“Iwant youthere with us. Me. With me.”

“Grady. We’ve caused enough ruckus.”

“Ruckus? What are you, eighty?” I tease, poking her lightly in the rib.

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