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“That’s only two and a half weeks from now,” Isla said.
I grimaced. “Trust me, I know.” I sipped my drink. I had ordered a vodka and soda water. I had gained a few pounds over the summer and needed to cut back on the sugar. The drink tasted like shit. I wanted something delicious and cold and fruity.
“How much do you owe?” Savannah asked.
That number got stuck on my tongue. “Three months,” was all I could manage. If I said the actual number, I would freak the fuck out. “Is it okay to feel this tired?” I asked them. “Like where it would just be nice to have answers about my life, where my next pay
check is coming from.”
“Oh, damn, honey, that sucks,” Isla said. “Do you need a loan? I can give you a few grand.”
“I can’t borrow money from you,” I said. “I know you and Sean are trying to open your own restaurant.”
“I can give you money too,” Savannah said, reaching out and squeezing my hand.
The very thought made my stomach turn. “No way. Don’t even think about it. You’re having your second baby, you need to move to a bigger place, you and Maddox are planning a wedding. I can’t borrow money. I’ll be fine. I don’t know what I’m going to do but something will pan out. It always does.”
Though I wasn’t sure what miracle would be coming my way this time. Even if I got a dance gig, it wouldn’t pay what I needed it to in two and a half weeks to get out of the hole I was in. It was a disaster. “The only thing I ask is that you let me crash on your couch for a week or two once I get thrown out.”
“Of course, sweetie, whatever you need.”
“You got it.”
The look of sympathy they both gave me made me both grateful for amazing friends and utterly humiliated. “I’ll be right back.” I didn’t need to use the restroom but for a split second I thought I was going to cry and that nonsense needed to stop. This wasn’t the end of the world. I was stronger than this.
In the restroom I blotted my face and listened to the voicemail I had just gotten. Might as well pile on more bad news.
Except it wasn’t a bill collector.
“This is Carson, assistant to Coach Brandon Macnamara. He’s scheduled a meeting with you for tomorrow, Thursday, at three p.m. Please check in at the front desk downstairs and you’ll be shown to his office.”
What the hell? I was being summoned? By the man who had ghosted me?
Rude.
That made my cheeks burn with anger. I freshened my lipstick and went back to the table, fired up. “Listen to this,” I told the girls. I put my phone on speaker and played the message. “That’s the call I just got. What does that even mean?”
They both looked as bewildered as I felt. “I mean, he wants to see you. That’s good, right?” Savannah asked.
“Is it? I have no idea.”
“That assistant really gave you no information. And like, excuse me, what if you’re busy?” Isla looked annoyed on my behalf.
“Well, sadly, I’m not, but I totally agree.” I sipped my drink and grimaced. Stupid vodka tasting like vodka. I like my alcohol masked. “It feels like it should have been a request, not a done deal.”
“Are you going to go?” Savannah asked.
“I don’t think I have a choice if I want to stay on the cheerleading team.”
“True. How are you going to approach it?”
“How sexy of an outfit do you think I can get away with at three in the afternoon without looking like a call girl?” I asked. “I want him to regret not giving me his number.”
He’d had fun with me that night. I knew he had. He kept coming back for another round. Which made it even more inexplicable as to why he would give me a fake number. I wanted to remind him that we’d had great sex. Amazing sex. All-night-long sex.
“Seems like a bad idea,” Isla said. “But I doubt anything I say is going to stop you.”
“You are correct, sir,” I said.
