Page 13 of How to Prevent a Fumble

“I need you to come and look over this agreement with me. I need to make sure I’m not going to be stuck in it if anything happens, and that I’m going to benefit, you know?”

“Mmm I’m not sure about that. It may come at a steep price,” she says after a moment, a laugh in her voice.

I chuckle, hitting my head on the back of the seat. “And what is this price you speak of?”

“I want a girls night. We haven’t had one in forever. It’s on me, so don’t start with thatI have other financial responsibilitiesbullshit. I want to take you out.”

I haven’t been out in a long time. Getting dressed up just to go to a bar, packed like sardines is not exactly something I personally find fun. But Zara loves it.

When we were younger, we’d make a whole night of it. But then I got married. And when things immediately started going south, I knew I had to get out. But as soon as I made an exit plan, I found out I was pregnant.

Elara is the light of my life, and one of the best things to ever happen to me, but it was one of the worst moments of my life.

Being trapped in that marriage was a death sentence, and the longer I was there, the longer I stayed, the more and more I felt like I lost half of myself.

I don’t think I’ve ever really gotten that spark back, and there’s not a single day that goes by that I don’t grieve for that part of me.

“Of course I’ll do it,” I tell her, closing my eyes. Part of me hopes she forgets, and part of me hopes she just asks me to dinner. That would be far better than anything else.

“Thank god. We’ll have fun and come back to the house and have miyan taushe, okay? Mom just dropped some off the other day.”

My stomach growls at the promise of one of my favorite foods. Zara’s parents are from Nigeria and moved here acouple of years before she was born. I’ve loved her traditional cooking since the very second I tried it the first time I was over.

Her mom is one of the most warm, welcoming people I’ve ever met, and although I’m absolutely terrible at learning new languages—I’m pretty sure it was the only class I ever bombed in school—her mother continues to teach me how to speak Hausa, and I welcome it enthusiastically. I love them as if they were my own parents.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I say with a smile, excited now.

“Okay, when do you need me to meet you?”

5

LEO

“You got my request for the contract?” I ask.

“Everything is in there.”

The room is musty, but it always seems to be. My lawyer is great, but I feel like every single time I come here I end up leaving with itchy eyes. I lean back in the wooden chair, listening to it creek under my weight. I’m not a heavy guy, but I’m absolutely not made for these monstrosities.

“She’s just doing personal assistant work for you, correct?” he asks, looking at me over his oval glasses.

“Yeah, just assistant work.”

“You may have some more paperwork to file down the road, but this should be good for now. The contract and some employment forms.”

“Perfect.”

He claps his hands together in front of him, a questioning look on his face. “Mr. Warner, you’ve been up to a lot lately.”

Here we go.

“Gotta live that life, you know?”

“Yes, you have to live your life, but I’m not going to getany calls asking for me to defend you because of some nonsense, correct?”

I roll my eyes. “Eduardo, you’re good. I’m a good boy, I promise. Never misbehaved in my life.”

He snorts.

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