Page 192 of The Re-Proposal

Erica listens keenly.

The other women look entranced.

My alarm goes off.

I clasp my hands behind my back. “Any questions?”

No one says a word.

I’m not sure if I broke them.

Ms. Phoebe shuffles forward. “Thank you, Cody. That was very inspiring.”

Applause breaks out, and I squirm. Why are they clapping? All I did was skim the surface of the lessons I’ve learned.

Lowering her voice so only I can hear, Ms. Phoebe whispers, “Have you considered a future as a motivational speaker?”

Her praise takes me by surprise.

Who knows. Maybe I’ve gone soft because I know these women now.

I’ve seen Erica’s parents, where she lives, how suffocated she feels.

I’ve seen Maggie cry over a regular two-bedroom house because it represents a fresh start for her and her daughter.

These women aren’t just faceless blobs in a random charity anymore. They aren’t numbers on a report that crosses my desk and then get shoved into Vargas’ lap for tax returns.

They’re people I care about.

People I’m rooting for.

“Bolton…” Vargas points to the door.

It’s time to go.

Quietly, Liandra follows me to my car. She climbs into the backseat and I settle in beside her, undoing my jacket.

The car moves off and I check my phone.

Clarissa: You still alive?

Cody: Barely.

Clarissa: I owe you, Cody.

Cody: Don’t worry, princess. I know just how to collect.

Liandra lifts her chin. “Was that rehearsed?”

I look up from my phone, perplexed.

“Did you warn those women I was coming and ask them to make you look good?”

“No, ma’am. I didn’t.”

She humphs.

I swivel toward her. “Ms. Maura, I know what you must think of me. And it’s deserved. What I did to Clarissa was terrible and I regret hurting her. But I promise you that from now on—”

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