Page 7 of Your Secret to Keep

My mouth drops when I get to the bonus—it’s not life-changing money, but it will give me some breathing room. Maybe I won’t have to fit in a consistent yoga morning schedule, or take random shifts at the coffee shop or bakery? I sigh out a breath, and it’s as if some of the stress goes with it.

In this moment, I wish I could call my parents. Tell them the good news. But it’s impossible—I’ve been missing them for over a decade. The way my mom would rub my back after school, listening to me tell her everything that happened. The way my dad would make breakfast for us on the weekends.

In the art of trying to play it cool, I call the one person who will be as excited as I am.

“An unsolicited phone call? Who even are you?” Wes, my younger brother, jokes as the sound of squeaking shoes on the basketball court fills the background. “I thought you were a millennial.”

I laugh because, even though he’s a senior in high school, he gets me—the last thing I ever want to give or receive is a phone call. This news is a perfect example of when it’s warranted.

“Hush. I know, but I couldn’t text you this. Guess what?!” I prompt him. From here, I can envision him holding a basketball on a hip while pressing the phone to his face with the opposite shoulder.

“You’ve been awake for fifty hours straight and are starting to hallucinate?” Sarcasm drips from Wes’ words.

I gasp like he’s guessed correctly, and then say, “Nope. And that happenedone time. Let it go.”

“I’m about to start practice, so you have thirty seconds to cut to the chase or we’ll have to pick this up later. Your choice.” I hear him dribble a ball.

“I got the job!”

“Which one? It’s hard to keep them straight.”

“With the Jags. Apparently, their original hire didn’t work out, and I was next in line. I’m about to accept the offer, but I wanted to tell you first.”

“That’s amazing! Like actually legit.” I hear Wes tell my news to some of his teammates who must be standing around him, and a band of warmth spreads through my chest. “I want to hear all about it, but Coach is going to kill me if he sees I’m on my phone.”

“I’ll see you Sunday morning,” I say and I’m sliding back into the couch, grabbing my laptop.

My phone buzzes again.

Shelbie

okay if you don’t dish on your date with what’s his face

i’m keeping your tip money from the other night

not really but come on

Me

are you working tonight? i’ll come in

yes

i’ll wear my best don’t-even-think-of-sitting-there face if someone tries taking the edge bar stool

What about Brooks? The thought nags, buried under pure joy and elation. It’s not something I can even get into right now—plus, he hasn’t reached out. There’s no way I can even consider that as part of my decision for this job. Even if he’s charming,gorgeous, and a complete gentleman, I learned a long time ago you have to look out for yourself because no one else will.

I set my phone on the side table, taking a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I feel the air stretch my rib cage and sigh it out. The way my lips pull up is like it’s coming straight from my heart. This is something I’ve wanted, down to my bones, and I’m not the kind of girl who has gotten a lot of what she wants.

Replying to the offer letter, I formally accept. When I’m confident the email has sent, I close my laptop and jump from the couch. I dance around my tiny studio apartment to a song playing on my phone.

This is a win I’ve needed.

For a long time.

Chapter 5

Brooks

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