Page 118 of Falling into Place
“I could fail.”
“So what?” Sasha cut in. “Everybody fails. Nobody wants to, but at least it means you tried. I’d rather give something my all and miss the mark than never try at all, wouldn’t you?”
“Not when it comes to something this important.”
“Okay, so let’s say you do. You fail. You’d be out of a job, but spoiler alert: You’re there now. You’ve already been there, and look at you. It’s not the end of the world that you thought it would be. You’re regrouping, surrounded by your people, and you’re figuring something else out. You’d do that again. But none of that matters because you won’t fail. My gut tells me this will work, Carly. And my gut is never wrong.”
Carly and Brooks laughed. Loud. She could think of three instances of Sasha’s faulty gut off the top of her head, and she’d bet a lot of money Brooks could do the same.
“Alright,” Sasha muttered. She stood and pushed her laptop closed, then grabbed it and propped her other fist on her hip. “You’re both assholes.”
“No, wait.” Carly scrambled to her feet and threw her arms around Sasha. “I’m sorry. Thank you. Really. I can’t believe you did all this for me.”
Sasha was quiet for a moment. “And?”
“And you’re the best friend a girl could ask for. I love you more than life itself.”
“And what about my ideas?”
“You’re brilliant. Best ideas in the history of the world.”
Sasha pulled back to eye her. “And you’ll at least think about it? Backstitch?”
Carly dropped her arms in defeat and smiled. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good. I’ll send you all the info I gathered so far and leave you two to whatever it was you were doing before I showed up. But please for the love of God, come lock the door after me.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t make that mistake again,” Carly said.
“One week, you hear me?” Sasha called out as she walked to the door. “One week!”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Brooks
If you ever find me down, check the service schedule, and if Dr. Martin’s not on, call him in. I don’t want anyone else taking care of me.
—Charge nurse, 4W ICU, University Hospital
Carly closed (and locked) the door and came back to the couch. After she sat, Brooks pulled her into his side and brought her legs across his lap.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“At this point, I don’t even know.”
“Understandable.”
She laid her head against his shoulder, absentmindedly tracing a finger in zigzags across his chest.
“What other options have you considered? Job-wise?” He hated that he hadn’t been around to help her work through this in the days after she’d been fired.
“I started looking for new accounting jobs,” she said. “And I know Bailey would take me back if I asked. I left on good terms.”
He put a gentle hand across hers, flattening her palm on his chest. “If you think going back to accounting is the right call, I’ll support you. Whatever you decide. But I worry that’s not where your heart is.”
“It’s not.” She tipped her head back so she could look at him. “You know how when you were talking about how you ended up in medicine, you said it was the perfect career because it combined your talents and your passion?”
“Yes.”
