Page 30 of Eye of the Hurricane
“So… I forgot to ask how you take your coffee. But I gave it my best guess. I hope you’ll like it.” He pushes one hand through his messy head of waves.
“I’m not picky, it should be fine. What did you get?”
“Iced hazelnut latte with oat milk. You seemed like an oat milk kinda gal.” I’m not but I don’t mind it. I don’t tell him that, I just enjoy it.
“Works for me.” I grab the cup from the table and take a sip. Maybe I am am oat milk kinda gal.Who even says gal? This kind of tastes like sunshine in a cup? Like the warmth, not the brightness. “This is really good.”
“Good. This is for you, too,” he says, pushing the bag he brought in front of me. I push open the paper bag and there’s a breakfast sandwich and hash browns inside. “I saw your list on the way out and didn’t know if me being here made you too late to make breakfast. So I just grabbed you some while I was out.” There’s a feeling in my chest that I’m determined to ignore. One that I certainly do not have time for.
“That’s really sweet, thank you.”
“It’s no big deal. As promised, I’ll head out now that I’ve dropped this off.” There’s a loud voice in my head telling me to ask him to stay. The volume of that voice is the exact reason I don’t ask.
“Okay, yeah. Thank you again.”
“Eh, what are boyfriends for,” he says with a shrug.
“Fake boyfriends!” I yell out to him on his way out of the door. I can hear his chuckle on the way out.
The drive towork is an endless loop of thoughts. I don’t even turn the radio on. I just think myself in circles.
I’m beginning to think I have less control over this situation with Ares than I thought. Giving up control is scary for me.
Growing up in a house where my control and choices were constantly taken from me, it’s not something I take for granted as an adult. Feeling like I finally have control over my own life is not something I plan on giving up anytime soon.
My phone tings loudly as a text from Luna pops up.
Luna
You didn’t call on your way to work, are you sick?
I know I’ll have to spill the beans to her eventually, but I can’t do it right now. My morning has already been a far step from my normal routine.
I know last night had me out of sorts when I’m comforted by the disgusting smell of the locker room seeping into Jacob’s office.
“What’s the plan today?” I ask, dropping down into the chair on the opposite side of his desk.
“Well I’ve been reading through these plans.” He holds up the folder of plans we spent last week reviewing. “I was thinking you might be interested in talking to the team about some of the media stuff. After practice, of course.”
“You want me to talk to them?” I ask, surprised.
“When you’re the PR manager over with the Sea Dragons, you’ll be the one communicating plans.” His use of ‘when’ is the ego boost I need.
“Okay, yeah. I’d love to,” I assure him.
We spend the majority of the morning prepping everything to lay the plans out for the team. The closer it gets to the end of practice, the more the anxiety sets in of sitting them down for a meeting.
I’ve never been an anxious person. All of the lead up to applying for the PR manager position has been stressful for me. I feel like one misstep will cost me the dream I’ve had since I was a kid.
Mind you, there’s been many versions of this dream. At one point, head coach was the dream. Once I knew about PRmanagers and everything they do, though, I knew what I wanted.
“Black says they’re wrapping up practice. You feel ready?”
“Do they know I’m coming to speak to them?”
“I think they just know they’re staying back for a few minutes after practice.”
‘Will you be there?”
