Page 40 of Thrown for a Loop
Bess shakes her head. “I do think a coaching session sounds like a low-stress way to get some good PR. But I notice you didn’t ask Zoe what she thinks of this idea.”
All eyes turn to me, and I do mean all of them. Even Chase’s piercing blue ones.
“Well, Zoe?” Sailor asks. “You’ll do it, right? You’re useful to us.”
You’re useful to us.For all the wrong reasons. And I’m so torn, because I know that Chase would rather have oral surgery than skate with me. On the other hand, I need to undo the harm that I’ve caused, if that’s even possible. And it would be nice to last a week at this job without being fired.
Plus, I want to fix Chase’s skating. No, Ineedto. “I’d love to do the session. Name the time.”
“Excellent,” Sailor says. “I’ll have details for both of you by tomorrow morning.”
Then the meeting is over, and Chase is the first one out of the room. Not that I blame the guy. As I get up to follow everyone out,seven figuresstill flashes in front of my eyes, like a bad cartoon.
“Well?” Darcy says when I arrive at her desk. Then she takes one look at my face. “Oh my God, did you just get fired?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s almost worse than that.”
She glances at her bank of phones and then grabs her pocketbook off the desk. “Okay, emergency snack break. Sharp can’t possibly get any grumpier, so I might as well.” She grabs her jacket off a coat tree and steers me toward the door. “Spill,” she says as we ride the first escalator downward.
I explain about Chase’s lost sponsorships, and she makes all the right noises of dismay.
“This is all my fault,” I tell her. “My impulse was to help, but I cost him at least a million dollars instead.”
“That is a lot of money,” she says solemnly. We get off the escalator, and she steers me toward the staff locker corridor. “Get your coat, it’s freezing outside.”
“How can I ever make this up to him?”
“Oh, buddy, I don’t know. Did Bess say those sponsors had cut ties already?” she asks. “Or were they just worried?”
“I’m not sure,” I say miserably. “But it sounded bad.” I type in the code for my locker, but then I open the door only an inch or two and quickly peek inside. If there’s another nasty note, I don’t want Darcy seeing it.
But no. I grab my coat and pull it on, then follow her down tothe street level. When we push open the doors to West Twenty-First Street, a bracing January wind scours our faces.
“Where are we going?” I ask, hugging my coat more closely to my body.
“This is the kind of crisis that requires cake,” Darcy says. “Have you been to Billy’s Bakery yet?”
“That place on Ninth? I’ve walked past it.” The most amazing smells come from that place.
She gives me a look of incredulity. “You walked right past? I didn’t even know that was possible. Follow me, please.”
I’m about to do that when I see another figure standing a ways down the sidewalk, his hands jammed into his coat pockets for warmth. My heart leaps before my brain even catches up.
Chase.
“Just a minute,” I say. “There’s something I have to do.”
“Uh-oh,” Darcy mutters as I jog away from her.
“Chase, wait!” I say before he can step off the curb.
He turns, his handsome face flashing with irritation. “What now, Zoe? I’m late for an appointment, and my head is killing me.”
“Look,” I gasp. “I meant what I said in there. I’m sorry I was impulsive. Again. I’m sorry I stepped in front of that fan when I should’ve just stayed home…” He eyes the street again, planning his getaway, and the words tumble out of me even faster. “Icannotcost you a million dollars, because this coaching gig doesn’t pay that well. I promise I won’t be your big orange fireball anymore.”
“Mywhat?”
I fling my arms out to the sides. “You said it last night—that I was like a big orange fireball in your life.”
