“No, but—”
“Good.” I grabbed my keys from the desk. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” she asked, her eyes wary.
“Out. Bye, Cody.”
“See you later, Wolfe. Bye, Sumner.” He smiled brightly at her, and my attention whipped between them. Was she sneaking off to date Cody? I shook my head as if to clear it. What the fuck was wrong with me?
“Are you seeing someone?” I blurted as soon as the elevator doors closed.
“So what if I am?” she asked, hands on hips.
“Is that why you won’t coach me?”
“What?” She jerked her head back. “No.” She laughed, and I watched her face transform from spectacular to exquisite. “There’s no point in coaching you if you won’t put in the work.”
Wasn’t it enough that I was trying?
The doors slid open to the parking garage, and I marched toward my truck, her heels clicking on the pavement behind me. I opened the passenger door for her and watched her legs as she climbed in. Watched the way she moved.
I rounded the hood, hopping in the driver’s seat and starting the truck before throwing it in reverse.
“Where are you taking me?”
“I need to show you something,” I said, knowing it would be more impactful if she saw it with her own eyes. Maybe then, she’d understand.
During the drive, I asked her about what she was reading, the projects she was working on at the office. Despite the awkward, terse silence of the past week, I was relieved that we seemed to lapse so easily back into our friendship. More than anything, I was grateful that Sumner had been mature and professional despite what had transpired between us.
“Another fixer-upper?” she asked as I slowed, pulling up to a curb next to an abandoned house. Boards covered the windows, and the grass was littered with trash, an old toilet sitting prominently among the weeds.
I shook my head. “This is where I grew up.”
Sumner lifted her hand to her mouth but kept her eyes focused on the house a moment more before returning them to mine.
“And, no, it didn’t look much better back then, though my mom did everything she could to make it beautiful.”
“What happened to them?” she asked, her voice as gentle as the hand she’d placed on my forearm.
“Car accident,” I said. “We only had one car. My mom dropped me off at school and then went to pick up my dad from the graveyard shift…” I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut as if I could push away the sadness, the regret as well. I never talked about my parents. “They never made it home.
“Anyway,” I continued. “This is why I’m having a difficult time with your assignment. Because, to my parents—to the version of myself growing up. Struggling. Scraping to get by. The life I’m living is… Well, it would be beyond their wildest dreams.”
She nodded. “And wanting something else for yourself feels somehow…selfish.”
“Not only that,” I said, relieved that she understood. “But ungrateful.”
“Don’t you think your parents would want you to be happy? However that looks for you?”
I glanced back outside, back at the crumbling house and the memories it contained. Memories of sacrifice and hardship, sure. But also, happy times. Days filled with love and laughter.
I nodded, unable to even choke out a simple “Yes.”
“And don’t you think that they, of all people, would realize that money doesn’t always equate to happiness?”
“I—” I shook my head, captivated by the intensity of her green eyes. The wisdom housed there. “You are a wise woman, Sumner Gray. Has anyone ever told you that?”
She laughed, and I could feel my muscles relax after they often did following a deep tissue massage. “It’s okay to want something else. To want something different. That doesn’t diminish your hard work nor make you seem ungrateful. If anything, it shows that you have a growth mind-set.”
