Page 5 of Fever Dream
I scoff back. I already explained to him I was starting my new job—one that requires me to spend a few weeks here in LA before heading back home to Emerald Lake.
Missing the start of this would be akin to shooting myself in the foot. Long, expensive years of schooling mean that being offered a dream job straight after graduating is a gift horse that I will not look in the mouth. Plus, I always make a point of showing up at as many of his events as my schedule allows. But there area lotof them, and I leave it up to his wife, Winter, to follow him around on the road.
At any rate, he understood. Hell, he told me I’d better not skip out on this job opportunity just to watch him at finals—because that’s the kind of guy Theo is.
A good one.
But he’s still my big brother, which means he never gets a pass. Ever.
“I would have come. But I’ve already seen you win once before, and now it’s just kind of boring.”
What I don’t add is that watching him ride always stirs a bone-deep anxiety in me. Our dad died doing what Theo does, and while I wasn’t there to see it happen, I’m not oblivious to the risks. And my coping mechanism for that is avoidance.
Rodeos and me? We don’t mix.
Cowboys? I want nothing to do with them.
Theo barks out a laugh. “That’s funny. Almost as funny as Emmett Bush’s bitchy fucking face when I knocked him off his pedestal.”
I chuckle, but it’s half-hearted. Emmett’s reputation isn’t lost on me. The endless womanizing, the partying, the cocky,holier-than-thou attitude he portrays in the media. The petty, backhanded insults he fires at my brother and his friends while they’re on tour.
Where Theo is the living embodiment of a good guy, Emmett has the bad boy act down pat.
The problem is he’s not all bad.
He can’t be. He saved me. Or whatever. I hate the wordsavedwhen it comes to that whole situation. It’s more like… he was decent. He stepped in when he didn’t have to, and he wasdecent.
Not that I’ve run around singing his praises from the rooftops. In fact, I haven’t told a soul about that night, and I still think he’s generally an asshole.
But I find it hard to dislike him the way my brother does. I witnessed his act slip for a beat, and it’s left me wondering if he’s not as bad as Theo and his friends would have me believe. Square jaw, hawkish eyes, an arrogantly tipped chin… and a secret streak of morality?
“Keeping Emmett from winning may have been more satisfying than winning the entire thing,” Theo continues, a wistful tone taking over his voice.
Emmett has been a constant thorn in Theo’s side for years now. The guy who accrues just enough points to knock him out of contention but never enough to pull out the win for himself. Which I’m certain only worsens the chip on his shoulder.
“He couldn’t even congratulate me. Brushed past me with a playful shoulder punch that landed a little harder than necessary. Mom saw it and everything.”
“No one likes a sore loser,” I reply with a laugh, because while I don’t know Emmett that well, I can envision this moment vividly based on the times Ihaveseen him and Theo interact.
But then I also know my brother. His enthusiasm is infectious. Unless of course he’s running around like an excitedgolden retriever, drooling and leaping and annoying everyone. So I wait a few beats before adding, “Or a sore winner, Theo.”
He groans, and I can envision him tipping his head back in frustration. “Jesus, Jules. Just let me be a petty bitch for a day. I won a second WBRF championship! That’s Hall of Fame type shit. Plus, Emmett left later with two girls. One under each arm, so I’m sure he found a way to deal with the embarrassment. And this is the thing I’ve been working toward all these years, through all the ups and downs. Everything since Dad.”
I blink a few times, willing away the dampness in my eyes as I stare at the palm trees flashing by through the window. Because it’s true. No one in the world deserves this more than my brother. He’s been through it these last couple of years. He faced injury, and his personal life was turned upside down. I know he’s worked his ass off to get back to where he is, so this moment is more than deserved.
Suddenly, I desperately wish that I’d been there to cheer him on. To see his dreams come true. Missing my brother hits me with a sharp pang. I’d pay good money to hug him right now. But instead, I settle on telling him something mushier than I normally would.
“I’m so proud of you, Thee. And Dad would be too.”
Butterflies riot in my chest. I’m seated at a large conference room table across from people who carry themselves with a level of importance that I could only wish to impersonate.
My hands are clammy, but I bet theirs aren’t.
In front of me, there’s a water bottle and a folded card that readsJulia Silva, Location Consultant, while other people’s titles include the termsManager, Executive, andSenior.
I’m the newbie. The backup. The last-minute hire for someone who apparently found a better job and vacated this position. I literally went from production assistant at the studio to this gig, and only because I am somewhat qualified thanks to my master’s in film studies and an entire life spent in Emerald Lake, which is where they plan to film.
I am underqualified for this job—but that only adds to my motivation.
