Page 14 of Cheap Shot
A blinding smile spreads across his face as he says the one thing I’ve been waiting weeks to hear. “Congratulations, Sadie Morris. You are the newest physiotherapist for the Portland Timberwolves. The hiring manager will more than likely call you in the next few days to discuss details and get you set up and ready for your first day of rookie training camp.”
The world seems to narrow down to just me at this moment. My chest tightens as I gasp for air. The pure elation of knowing I’ve finally obtained my dream is overwhelming. My hand grips at my chest as my vision blurs with tears of pure joy.
Stacey screams before quickly ending her call with Parker.
“You didn’t say goodbye.” I giggle as tears of joy pour down my cheeks.
“Serves him right for holding out on us for an entire conversation.” Stacey grasps both my hands in hers, matching tears streaming down her cheeks. “You did it, Michele! You fucking did it!”
We both screech in pure elation as we jump up and down, our hands still tightly clasped. “I fucking did it!”
We continue jumping, screaming, and crying for a few moments before Stacey freezes, her eyebrows instantly pulling down in confusion. “Wait. What are you going to tell them when you arrive on your first day? All your identification says Michele Mercer, not Sadie Morris.”
I guffaw at the look of pure horror on her face. “I know. I’m not a complete idiot.”
“No, you're not, but—” I swear I can see the steam coming out of her ears as she tries to make sense of what is going on right now. I kind of want to let her continue to stew as payback for cleaning up her puke this morning and working a sixteen-hour shift today, but I decide against it.
“Stop thinking so hard. You’ll hurt yourself.” I pull her out of the kitchen before pushing her softly onto the couch. “I had to go in for an in-person second interview. The hiring manager knows my legal name and who I am, but agreed to keep the information secret from my dad.”
“Okay, this is starting to make sense. Please continue.”
“If it wasn’t for all those glasses of wine, I never would’ve told you and Parker that I even applied. Neither he nor my dad is involved in the hiring process, besides giving final approval over whomever they choose to hire.”
Stacey opens her mouth but snaps it shut immediately, nodding her head in agreement. “It’s so stupid looking back on it, but I didn’t want to deal with my dad.”
Stacey wraps her arm around my shoulder, pulling me in for a hug. “He has never been supportive of me working for a sports team, let alone the Timberwolves. I just wanted a chance to get the job, not having to worry about if he was going to interfere.”
“I’m sorry, Shell my Belle.” She plants a kiss on the side of my head. “You wanted to know whether you were hired or passed over because of your résumé, not whatever your dad had to say. But they realized how freaking badass you were, and the rest is history! I don’t know why you’d think that in the first place, because you are seriously the hardest-working person I know. Who the hell else would they hire if not you?”
Stacey has always been my biggest cheerleader and defender. When things went south a few years ago, she was there to help me pick up the pieces of my self-esteem and my heart. But when Stacey gets going, she rambles. Said rambling could go on for minutes or hours, who knows? I lean back on the couch and listen to her rattle on in my defense. It would be pretty damn impressive if it were necessary.
“No need to defend me, Stacey. I got the job.” I giggle.
“Sorry, I was prepared for all possible outcomes. Not that I didn’t believe you were going to be hired, but it always helps to be prepared.”
I give her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “I love your face.”
“I love you, too. Now we must celebrate.” She jumps off the couch and rushes into the kitchen, noticing the ingredients for the soup on the counter. “After we make the soup, I’ll order you a new pair of pajamas.”
“Deal.” I push off the couch and head into the kitchen to get to work on making our dinner. “Once you wash your hands, you can finish chopping the veggies while I get the orzo boiling.”
“Umm, you know I don’t cook. But I can open a mean bottle of wine or two.” Stacey giggles before pulling two wine glasses out of the cabinet.
“Noted. You can open the wine and order my new pajama pants.” I wash my hands and step around her to begin chopping the vegetables before adding them, along with some extra virgin olive oil, into my soup pot and turning the burner on medium. While I wait for the burner to heat, I add butter and grab some minced garlic from the fridge, and throw a teaspoon of that in, as well.
“I grabbed the chicken broth while I was in the pantry. We only have two bottles of wine. That’s not nearly enough to celebrate.”
“It is only Tuesday, and we both have to work tomorrow.”
“Semantics.” Stacey shrugs before placing her goodies on the counter and hopping up to take a seat beside them.
“That’s not the least bit sanitary, Stacey.” My nose wrinkles in disgust, but Stacey doesn’t move a muscle, only shakes her head.
“I’ll wipe everything down once I get down,” she responds.
I dump the chicken broth and flour into the pot, giving it a good stir before turning my attention to the chicken. While I let everything simmer, I dice the chicken and drop it into the pot before bringing everything to a boil.
“You’ll need to do more than just wipe it down with water, you know that, right? You need to get out the cleaning supplies and even the Lysol wipes. You’ve been sick. Even though you took a shower, lord only knows how many germs are all over your clothes.”
