Page 13 of Dream Chaser

“They are,” I said. “But she lied about her experience on her résumé.”

“Would you have scheduled an interview if she hadn’t?”

I tapped my fingers on the wheel. “No.”

“It’s your agency,” Asher said. “And who you hire is up to you, but she’s going to be in charge of my stuff. Everyone starts somewhere. Vortex also took risks when they signed with me. So far, they haven’t regretted giving me a chance.”

I focused on Emerport’s crawling traffic, mulling over Asher’s words. If I gave Nova Lockhart a chance, I could skip the tedious selection process and avoid being called bro once more. I’d be able to focus on the upcoming races and negotiating deals for my clients, the parts of my job I actually enjoyed. The extra time would also let me get certified so Guerrero Sports Agency could represent tennis and baseball players in the States, one of my biggest business goals.

Asher studied the rest of the photographs, nodding in appreciation.

Nova Lockhart was talented, and she owned up to her actions by apologizing.

I just needed to decide if that was enough to allow her to work for me.

CHAPTER FOUR

Nova

July

Magenta lights pulsed in time with the slow song. I twirled my third strawberry daiquiri on the glowing acrylic coaster, observing the well-dressed crowd.

Lux, the swanky nightclub Scarlett took me to, was amazing.

My mood, not so much.

The taste of shame lingering in my mouth was so bitter it overpowered the sweetness of my drink.

“You tried.” Scarlett wrapped her crimson lips around her cocktail straw.

I snorted. “No. I made a fool of myself. What the hell was I even thinking? Of course, he’d know I lied. I just wish he hadn’t arranged the interview in the first place. Why bother talking to me if he knew I wasn’t a good fit from the start?”

Just remembering the stern look Alejandro Guerrero gave me threw me into a well of anxiety headfirst.

Scarlett tapped her nails on the stem of her glass. “Maybe he’s the type to double-check before making a decision.”

I took a tiny sip from my glass. “Maybe. Either way, it was awfully embarrassing being called out for my lies.”

Those sharp green eyes of his would haunt my nightmares for a long time.

“You know what they say”—Scarlett took another sip of her cosmopolitan—“what doesn’t kill you—”

My phone vibrated on the table, Preston’s picture on the screen. “Gives you trauma,” I mumbled, flipping the cell over.

I needed to talk to him, but I hoped to face him once I had a job so I could at least appear more confident. He’d had the upper hand and the last word for the entirety of our relationship. Not anymore.

“Makes you stronger.” Scarlett nodded at my phone. “Husband of the year is calling again?”

“Yeah. He probably ran out of clean underwear and needs me to do his laundry.”

Scarlett burst out laughing. She must’ve thought I was kidding. Admitting that I wasn’t would only flood me with more shame for putting up with him for so long.

“So, what now?” she asked. “Are you sure about staying at your mother’s?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve got another interview tomorrow. I’ll be fine.”

A waitressing job wouldn’t pay enough to rent an apartment in a city as expensive as Emerport. I’d have to commute from my mother’s place while I hunted for something better. The time I’d lost and the opportunities I’d missed knotted into a ball of gloomy thoughts. I took another sip, hoping the alcohol would keep them from spiraling.