And mine alone.
“Still looking,” I lie smoothly. “The market’s… brisk.”
“Well, as long as you’re happy, I guess.” She doesn’t sound convinced. “Mom’s worried you’re just running away from things.”
I am. From you. From all of you.
"It's calledfreelancing, Meg. I'm not running away. I'm being a functional adult."
"You know what she's like." Meghan’s voice softens into that tone. Thewe’re-all-just-worried-about-youtone. "We just worry about you, Jo."
And God, I almost tell her.
But I swallow it down, every word. "Well. I'm fine. Thanks for calling."
I hang up before she can say anything else.
I stare at the ocean a long, long moment.
I will tell them. One day. When I have something to show for it. When I can point to a thriving sports franchise and say,See? Women DO belong here.
My phone reads 8:12.
The job starts in…one hour.
"Oh my God." I bolt upright, sloshing coffee everywhere. "Move, Josie!Move!"
I shower and slide into the outfit I laid out three days ago like the deranged little planner I am. Beachside Bears team polo. Dark-wash jeans. Fresh white sneakers, topped off with a stylish high ponytail.
Professional. Approachable.Capable.
I grab my bag and pause at the door, turning to look at the unmade bed. The sheets are still tangled from my restless sleep. I can almost see the ghost of him there, the indent of his head on the pillow next to mine.
Best sex of my life with a man whose name I don’t know. Check.
Now it's time to get to work.
I step out into the Beachside sunshine, the ocean at my back, and walk toward The Bear Cave.
The town is waking up around me. A jogger passes with a cute collie on a leash, both panting happily. A food truck is setting up near the boardwalk, the smell of fresh coffee drifting on the breeze.
I pass a converted surf shack café that has a line already forming outside. A chalkboard sign promisesWORLD FAMOUS COOKIES BACK IN STOCKand I make a mental note to come back later.
If I survive today.
The sidewalk transitions from weathered wood to smooth concrete as I get closer to the arena district. The beach is still visible on my left, surfers dotting the lineup, and ahead of me, rising from the coastline like something out of a dream—
The Bear Cave.
I stop walking for just a second, staring up at it.
Holy shit.
The arena rises from the coastline like a wave frozen mid-crash, with the reflective surfaces mirroring the cloudless blue sky. It's a proper hockey arena, arealstadium.
My stomach does a little flip.
This is it. This is my shot.
