Page 19 of The Player Penalty
“What are you doing out here all alone?”
I jump. “Julian. You frightened me.”
He steps back, further from the water, and yanks my hand so I’m seated next to him. “Go ahead and spill it. You’re not what I’d call a party girl, and you’re still unusually subdued. What is it? All the people. Yeah, that sucks, but we go home tomorrow, so it will be over soon.”
I frown at his comment. True or not, it’s harsh. “You aren’t funny.” Julian’s only response is to yank me closer so our hips and thighs touch. I squirm to pull my short skirt down. Showing off my underwear to a man who barely recognizes I’m female would be embarrassing. “I applied for another internship and didn’t get this one either.” The memory galls.
“Did you get an announcement or a phone call? I’m surprised they’re doing that on a weekend so close to the holidays.”
Christmas is only two weeks away, but that doesn’t mean the world has come to a stop. It does mean finals start soon, and then I’ll have four weeks to relax, sleep, and start a new hobby. Maybe knitting? Crochet was easy. I could learn pottery or another language, too. Some Italian could mean a trip to Italy someday.
Julian pokes me. “Hey.”
“Sorry, I was thinking of something.” The letter sits unopened in my purse because there’s no point in reading it. The interview is all the confirmation needed. “No, there wasn’t a phone call. I didn’t get it.”
“How do you know?” he pushes, and I hear the stubbornness in his voice. Julian won’t let up until I tell him. Ever since Irevealed my secrets, he’s been relentlessly wanting to know me better.
“The interview was a disaster.”
“Maybe it wasn’t.”
“I was there. Believe me, disaster is an understatement. They asked about my career goals, and I panicked and said I didn’t know. Then I apologized, then I said sorry for my apology. One of the people interviewing took pity on me and asked if I needed a break. I said no and apologized again. You want to know what happened next?”
“You apologized,” Julian says as if it was a certainly rather than a guess.
“It was three days a week at a finance company, and I couldn’t get through an interview. At least it means I can’t get fired this time, so that’s a positive. Anyway, I’m meeting with a school counselor to switch my major next week.”
“You were fired from a job?” he asks.
“A clothing store. They required me to be there for the opening, and I was always late. It wasn’t intentional; something always happened, but they still fired me.”
Dad saw my internship withRivers Motorsportsas a way for me to gain experience and confidence. It’s a bonus that they won’t fire me because they need him.
Julian lies back on the sand and stretches his large frame. The moon’s shine reflects off his white shirt, and I’m reminded of the god Poseidon stepping from the waves.
I shake my head, feeling silly.
“This means you’ll be around next year.” He looks up at me with a sly grin and grabs my ankle. “Did you see that crowd backin there? I’d rather spend work time with you than with that group of stiff suits. From my perspective, your job loss is my job win.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No, why would it? We were talking about me.” I snort and pull my ankle from his grasp. Julian doesn’t notice. “Think of it as the universe saying you don’t belong in a finance company. I often thought about your invisible comment during the last part of the season, you know.”
It was an idle comment, and I’d mostly been talking about myself. Life as a wallflower has its benefits, ones I regularly indulge in. Julian chose the limelight and won two back-to-back races after his playoff elimination. Dad said it was some of the best driving of his career before dismissing the entire thing as a fluke because Julian lacks the discipline to keep it up.
I did not respond.
“Are you planning more of the same?” I ask.
“To win? I plan that every week. Unfortunately, plans always fall apart at implementation. That’s racing.”
“That’s life,” I say.
Julian gets up and stares at me for so long that I grow uncomfortable. “You want to go swimming?”
“Now? In the dark?” I hiss at him. “We’re not allowed.”
“No one cares, and no one is around to stop us.”
