Page 98 of Breakaway Bet

She looks surprised by my question. “No. I didn’t put one in because I hired you as an assistant and didn’t think I’d be giving you any clients. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you know when I was going to college and Dad said I had to pick a major? And there was something I really wanted to do, and he said it wasn’t a viable career choice, and so I listened to him and ended up majoring in fashion merchandising, which I absolutely hated, and have a degree that’s completely useless now?”

“Yes,” she says, drawing out the word as if she has no idea where I’m going with this.

“Well, what I really wanted to do was social media management. And Cash has offered me a full-time position doing that for him. But that would include his branding work for the tequila.”

She sits forward in her chair, steepling her hands under her chin. “Ah,” she says.

“I don’t know what to do because he’s offering me this opportunity to do the one thing that I always dreamed of doing. But I feel like in taking that, I would need to quit here, and I don’t want to do that to you either because I’m so grateful that you’ve given me this job.”

She nods, and I’m worried if she doesn’t say something, I’m going to keep blurting words out that make no sense, so I sit quietly and wait for her reply.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she says after what feels like ten full minutes of silence. “I love having you work here, and you are an excellent assistant when you are here in the office. You needed minimal training, you caught on quickly, and you do excel in the social media realm. Would you consider continuing on as my assistant and doing his social media under the umbrella of Ever-Brand?”

“I would, but I also have this vision of working for myself one day, like the way you have. You are such an inspiration, and I want to create my own business like you’ve done and not have to ask somebody for days off, but just be able to take them because it’s what I want to do. And I want to not have to report in as someone’s assistant, but to be able to manage my own workload.”

She nods. “I get that, and I appreciate your words about me. You’re my sister, and I want you to be happy. I want you to do whatever you think is going to lead you to that happiness.”

Her words are tight and sound almost like an act, like she’s rehearsed them, and they don’t feel sincere. They feel like she’s saying what she needs to say in order to appease me. They also feel a lot like what Liam said she’d say to me, which makes me wonder if she was expecting me to come in here and say something along these lines to her.

“Do you mean that?” I ask softly.

She glances out the window, and then she looks up. She looks everywhere but me, and eventually, after a while, her eyes finally do land on me.

“No.” She shakes her head, and she sighs. But then she lets me have it. “I want to talk some sense into you with every fiber of my being and explain to you what it’s really like to own your own business. It took me nearly a decade of working for someone else before I had enough experience to branch off and do it on my own. I want you to learn business sense before you quit your job to run someone’s social media. I would be happy to give you more experience here and more responsibilities as you earn them. I don’t want to drive you away by being honest with you, but if you were any other employee and just took off two random days because you felt like it, then came in here to tell me you’re not sure if you want to quit, I’d make that decision much easier for you.”

“By telling me to fuck off?” I guess.

“Maybe a little more eloquently than that.” She shoots me a wry smile.

“I don’t know what to do, Ev.”

“Then we’ll acquire his socials and have you run them through Ever-Brand. I’ll slowly back off your assistant duties so you have time to focus on your client. We’ll draw up a new contract that says you can take only this one client with you if you decide to leave and start your own business since he specifically sought you out when he inquired about our services.”

My mouth drops open. “You’d do that?”

“It’s what my boss did for me when I left Langford, so I guess I’m just passing on the torch.”

Tears well up behind my eyes that she’s being so understanding.

“I just wish it wasn’t a hockey player,” she mutters, and I can’t help a laugh at that.

CHAPTER 32: Cash Maddox

And Now I’m Crying

I have a text waiting for me from Ivy after my workout.

Ivy: I have some news, and we need to chat about some things. Can you swing by the office today? I’m available after 2:00, but if not, we can talk at home tonight.

She texted me a few hours ago, so hopefully nothing has changed with her scheduling.

Me: I’m getting on the ice at 1 with my boys, but I can be there by 3. Does that work?

Ivy: Perfect. Can’t wait to see you.

I can’t wait to see her, too. I want to see more of her in those tight little blue dresses she wears to work. More of her out of them, too.