Page 105 of Breakaway Hearts

“You’re absolutely welcome. It was a pleasure meeting you, Madison.”

“You too.”

I step into my interview with the ridiculous confidence of someone who just got recognized for their work in the most unlikely of places. I am not asked a single question about hockey scores, but get an in-depth interrogation on everything they could dig up on me. My high school grades and extracurriculars, the letter I sent with my scholarship application…everything is fair game.

“Yeah, they’re hard asses who’ll put you through the ringer,” Mr. Pruitt tells me when I walk out of the conference room and find him in the hallway. I probably look like I’m going to throw up, from how invasive the questions were about suddenly switching my major before the first semester even started. I would have preferred questions about my favorite Paw Patrol character, which Jules insisted would come up.

“I don’t mind,” I assure him honestly, though I’m sure he thinks I’m lying. Rehashing sporting events should be easier than answering for every life decision I’ve ever made, but I’d rather explain why I stole a candy bar when I was three than pretend to be excited about hockey prospects.

“It went well.”

“I hope so. The more I learn about your firm, the more I want to work here,” I admit.

“It wasn’t a question.” He winks with a smile that tells me he’s impressed and knows something I don’t. “Looking forward to seeing you this summer.”

He leaves without waiting for a response, and I resist the urge to jump up and down until I’m outside the building and walking to Jay’s truck. I catch myself with my finger hovering over Owen’s contact in my phone. He should not be the first person I want to call, even if he helped me prep for it.

I text my mom to let her know it went well, then facetime Jason.

“Congrats on the win!” I say as he smiles, confirming it.

“Don’t tell me you ditched your interview to watch our game.”

“Lucky guess,” I admit.

He shakes his head at me. “So? How did it go?”

“They don’t decide until the new year, but he said he was looking forward to seeing me this summer,” I gush.

“Woohoo!”

I move the phone away for a second, because in addition to Jason, all the guys on the bus are cheering for me, including Owen, who seems to be sitting right beside Jason. Which only makes me slightly extremely nervous.

“I knew you’d get it,” Jay tells me.

“You didn’t say congrats on killing it when you picked up,” I point out. “And I don’t have it yet.”

“But you will. Not a doubt in my mind.”

“How was the game?” I ask after telling him all about the interrogation, which I only agreed to after he switched it to a phone call so I wouldn’t have an audience.

“Three-one,” he admits. “I think the team’s finding their groove.”

“You’ll finally have some defense and not have to play on your own?” I ask, to which he chuckles.

“Making sure I don’t have you on speaker?”

“I trust you,” I assure him. “And I’d say it to their faces if I thought it would make a difference.”

Once I’m home, I bolt the door and set the alarm, like I always do when Jason isn’t home. Only then do I check my phone and see a text from Jason, letting me know he ordered me peanut butter chicken and coconut rice to celebrate, since he can’t be here.

I also have a text from Owen, sent almost an hour ago.

Brooks

Congratulations, Mad. I knew you’d kill it. They’ll be lucky to have you.

I could like it as a way to acknowledge it without inviting further conversation, but I respond instead.