“Is Gary Satchel there?”
“Yes, Gary's here. Hang on a minute. He's with a customer.” She put the call on hold.
After pushing back the ledger, her notepad, and the order form for the snacks they carried, she grabbed the Germ-X bottle and scrubbed her hands. She sat back down when Gary strolled in.
She pointed in front of her on the counter. “Phone call for you.”
“Thanks. I have my home phone number forwarding the calls here today.” He picked up the receiver and turned his back. “Satchel here.”
Angie spread out some plain white napkins and glanced at him. His skill in the garage surprised her. He'd jumped in on helping the customers, and even changed the oil on a customer's car. He made her day go faster. She enjoyed the companionship and had to admit, she liked to watch his hands and forearms while he worked. The guy was seriously built.
Gary's sense of taking over pumping the gas every time she walked out of the office endeared him to her even more. Although, he still wouldn't share his news with her without Drew here, and she'd tried everything to get him to spill.
“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” He hung up.
She handed him a carton of rice. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He ran his hand across the back of his neck. “They've rescheduled the first game, so practice starts a day earlier. I'll have to hit the road early in the morning.”
“Oh.” She looked at his face. Hope surged in her chest. “That's good, though. You need to get back to life.”
“Yeah,” he muttered and sat down on the other side of the counter from her.
The wrinkle between his brow, the way he twisted his mouth to chew on the inside of his cheek, and his slumped shoulders told her a different story. She ignored her own selfish reasons for wanting him to go back to Seattle, and split up the fried shrimp. For some reason, Gary wasn't looking forward to going back home.
“Eat up. You don't want to go back and get your ass kicked on the field.” She found the plastic silverware at the bottom of the bag and passed him a fork.
Gary stared at the counter. She waved her hand in front of his face. “Did you hear anything I said?”
He pushed her notepad in front of her. “Are these all the places where you've turned in a résumé? Barista? Secretary?”
She picked up the list, and shoved it under the counter. “Don't depress me. Today, it doesn't matter what my future holds. I've promised myself that tomorrow, I'll start all over again with eternal hope of landing a job.”
“It matters.” He took a bite of rice, chewed, and watched her. “What do you really want to do, Ang? I know you don't want to pump gas, and run a business. That's Drew's thing.”
“I want to do massages.” She peeked at him. “Why?”
“I don't know. First, you wanted to be a journalist, then a massage therapist, and now I see you reaching for anything to bring in money.”
“I know, butâ”
“You can barely type. You'd hate being a secretary.” He lowered his voice and continued. “I'm wondering if money were no object, what would be your dream?”
“I'll never be in the position where I could dream.” She wrinkled her nose. “I need money to survive. Mom's life insurance went mostly to hospital bills. Drew works harder than anyone I know. My dad has his own life with his new family. I need to pay my own way. It's as simple as that. I want to work paycheck to paycheck like every other American.”
“Say you won the lottery of all jobs. What would that be?”
She rolled her eyes and shrugged. “That's easy. I'd still give Swedish massages. I'd just be more elite and have an exclusive clientele of the rich and famous. Somewhere that will pump my career, so I'll never have to struggle to find another job.”
“You wouldn't hightail it to some exotic island?”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “Massage therapy makes me happy. I guess it's not only therapeutic for the customers, it is for me too. I like making others feel better, so they can enjoy life to the fullest.”
He stared at her for an extra beat and then nodded. “It's a good dream.”
“Why all the questions?” She bit into a shrimp.
“Just curious.” He reached over and laid his hand over hers to stop it from fidgeting with her napkin. “I want you to know that whatever happens when Drew gets back, I'll always be around if you need anything.”
“You act as if you're leaving me here. Don't do it. Please,” she whispered. “I will do anything. I mean
anything
, if you help me out. Just for a couple of weeks, and then you'll be rid of me.”
“I'm not talking about you coming to Seattle,” he said. “I just want you to know if you need help, financially or emotionally, I'm here for you.”
Not understanding where the conversation was heading, she studied him. “You're freaking me out. Is your news bad or good?”
“Good.” He nodded. “Really good.”
She flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “Since you're waiting for Drew to arrive, it's probably something manlyâ¦like you've found a Mustang GTO you want to fix up or some supermodel is warming your bed. I'll clue you in. That kind of news doesn't make a woman squeal with delight.”
A car horn honked three times in quick concession. She lifted her gaze and looked out the window. “Finally. Drew's home. Stay here, I'm going to tell him you're here.”
She hurried around the counter, flew out the door, and launched herself in her brother's arms. “Guess who's here?”
“Gary. I saw his car in the back.” Drew pulled back from her. “Lay off, sis. I was only gone a week.”
She grabbed his hand and kept him outside. “I need to talk with you before you see him. It's important.”
Drew glanced at her, and then the front door of the gas station. “What happened? More importantly, what did you do?”
“It's great news. I promise.” She bounced on her toes. “I almost have Gary convinced to take me back to Seattle with him. I need you to help seal the deal. If I can stay with him, find a job, I can get my own place. He's thisâ” she pinched her fingers together “âclose to agreeing. You can push him the rest of the way. Call in a buddy favor.”
“What will you do at his place?” Drew squinted at her.
“I'll be his personal slave. Isn't that great?”
Drew frowned. “How long has he been here?”
“He came yesterday.” She waved her hand, changing the subject. “For some reason he wants to talk with you. So, go tell him how awesome it is of him to put me up in his condominium until I find a job.”
“Jesus, sis. Lay off, you're fine staying here until something works outâ¦and things will work out, just give it time.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do me a favor and go get us all a beer. I want to talk to Gary alone for a minute.”
“Yeah, okay.” She leaned toward him. “Please, do this for me.”
He motioned with his chin. “Go on. I'll see what's going on with him.”
She jogged behind The Gas Station to the house, and hurried inside to grab three bottles of beer. On her return trip, she slowed to a walk. She'd give Drew time to work on pulling a favor on her behalf. She skipped in step, smiling hugely, giddy with the thought of leaving in the morning.
Slipping inside the garage, she looked at Drew and Gary. “Well? Did I miss the news?”
Her brother's head dipped and he tried to hide a smile. She gazed over at Gary. He closed his eyes briefly and nodded to her. She handed out the beer, setting hers on the counter for later.
“So⦔ She held her hands out, palms up, and looked around expectantly. “What's the news?
Drew cleared his throat. “I think this is Gary's news to share.”
“Are you sure?” Gary grinned. “I thought you'd want to do it.”
“We could flip a coin.” Drew shrugged. “Or we could wait until later. It's not closing time, and that way we could celebrate tonight.”
“That's a good idea, bro.” Gary stretched his back. “It's been a long day. Pumping gas is hard work.”
“Okay, knock it off.” She crossed her arms, tapped her foot, and pinned Gary to the spot. “I know what you two are doing. Just tell me.”
He stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “I want you to think long and hard over what I'm going to tell you. You don't have to do it. It might not even be something that you'll enjoy.”
She slugged his arm. “Unless you tell me, how will I know what you're talking about?”
“Fine. I'll tell you.” He laughed. “I talked to Mr. Canbridge, human resources manager for the Seahawks⦔
“Oh, God.” Her heart raced and she grabbed on to his arm. “Go on.”
“I ran into him while I was filling out new paperwork, and I asked if he'd found anyone to work beside John Stevens,” he said.
“That's the physical therapist who I had the interview with right before I left Seattle,” she said, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach.
“Yeah⦔ His eyes softened and he patted her shoulder. “Turns out, I know the woman who applied for the job as the new massage specialist.”
“Oh.” She swallowed, trying hard not to let her disappointment show. When she'd applied, she knew it was a long shot. With a short past work history on her résumé, she was afraid the Seahawks would pass her over for someone with more experience. She couldn't fault them. Working with a professional football team was a cushier job than the others she'd been applying for.
“Anyways⦔ Gary grinned over her head at Drew. “The new gal starts in two days, and since Canbridge knew I was coming out here to visit Drew, I asked him if I could give you the news myself. He agreed.”
“Well, thanksâ¦I guess.” She wrinkled her nose. “I'll make sure I check them off my list. Although, honestly, dude, I would've preferred to get the customary rejection email notifying me that the position was filled and thanks for applying.”
“You're not listening, Ang.” He laughed. “
You
start the job in two days. I'm taking you back to Seattle with me.”
“Get out!” She smacked her hand over her mouth.
“They hired you. You'll have to wait until you meet with John Stevens to get all the details, but as of Monday, you'll be employed full time by the Seattle Seaâ”
She jumped and wrapped her arms around his neck. In her excitement, she kissed him full on the mouth. She pulled back, her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. “Thank you! That's the best news ever. You've totally saved my life.”
She wiggled off him, and threw herself at her brother. After she kissed her brother's cheek, she sank her fingers into her hair and gazed around the room. “I have so much to do. I need to pack, and find an apartment. Oh, I wonder if I can find one close to work.” She squealed. “No matter, I'll be flying with the team, too, and I have my car still in storage and I can figure out everything later. This is going to be great. I can't wait.”
“Slow down.” Drew laughed. “We'll help you pack a few bags and later I'll have all your boxes delivered for you. For right now, I asked Gary to let you stay at his place, until you can get your own apartment. Congratulations, sis. This is huge.”
She smiled, launching herself at Gary again. “Thank you! This is a dream.”
Wrapped up in his thick arms, cushioned against his chest, she closed her eyes to keep the happiness from reducing her to tears. This was perfect.
I'm an asshole.
Gary closed the door of his condominium. He threw his bags on the hardwood floor beside Angie's luggage that he'd brought in moments ago, while Angie ran for the bathroom the moment they arrived back at his place in Seattle.
What was he thinking? He knew Drew would ask him to let Angie stay with him. He knew he'd say yes. He knew that was the reason why he'd personally driven to Deadhorse to give Angie the news.
He was in deep shit.
Every fantasy he had of Angie took place in his house, having her in his bed. He gazed across the main room into the kitchen and groaned. And on the table and floor. Hell, his mind took him out of the condo to the stadium, Metro, and the fucking Space Needle.
Angie strolled into the living room and plopped down on the couch. “I don't know whether it's being back in Seattle or the fact that I no longer have to pee, but it feels wonderful to be back in the Emerald City.”
“You drank three super-sized Cokes between Portland and Seattle. I imagine you're hyped up on sugar.” Gary walked across the room and opened the drapes, casting light into the open spaced area that housed his living room, kitchen, and dining room. “I'll put your things in the spare bedroom.”
“I'll help.” She jumped up and took the heaviest bag.
He grabbed the handle from her and shook his head. “You can grab the small one.”
She rolled her eyes, but refrained from arguing. He marched toward the hallway, and then turned left into the room that would be hers for the next however long it would take her to save up enough money to rent her own place. When he turned around, she remained in the doorway gazing across the hall into his bedroom.
He followed her gaze, and couldn't figure out what grabbed her attention. It was a typical bedroom, one he only slept in. “What's wrong?”
“Please tell me I can sleep in your bed when you're gone,” she said.
He looked over her head and smiled. The massive, plush bed had been a present to himself at the end of last season. Custom made, the mattress would fit six normal-sized people or one of him and Angie. It had taken the wood craftsman two months to design the headboard and the four posts that capped each corner.
“Stay out of my bed,” he said.
She turned and lifted her chin. “You do realize if you're not here, you won't know where I sleep.”