Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
She’s right. Even now, this early in the morning, it’s insane. I scan the street in front of me, and all I can see is an endless stream of cars and trucks passing us, honking taxis, and masses of people dashing by, all late for something. How they’re already late when it’s only seven in the morning is beyond me. Nothing is even open yet.
Hence, us meeting for breakfast before walking around. Duh. But alas, the city never sleeps apparently.
“Let’s grab breakfast at the diner I saw a few blocks away when we arrived last night, and then after, we can walk downtown.”
“Sounds like a good plan. I can always eat.”
Together, we start to walk, Molly leading the way. “How do you like working for the team?” she asks, and I wonder if this is some sort of trick question. Molly seems observant. I’ve noticed her looking at me and her brother a few times, and I can’t help but feel she knows.
I won’t be the one to say anything. It’s not my place, but it still makes me watch my words carefully. “I actually love it. I didn’t know if I would, but I do.”
“Social media marketing? Was that always what you wanted to do?”
“Isn’t it what our whole generation wants to do?” I tease.
The light turns green, and we have to stop walking so we don’t get run over.
Molly turns to face me. “Yep. Well, not me.”
I narrow my eyes at her, wanting to know more. “Have you always wanted to work for your brother?”
“Hey.” She laughs. “I asked my question first.”
I roll my eyes playfully. “True, but I had hoped I could get out of answering.”
“Ahh, there’s a story there.”
“Oh, there’s a story.” I laugh. “I was actually sent here because I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. The Redville Saints was my punishment, believe it or not.”
“And is it a punishment?”
I shake my head as I think about the past few months. “No. It’s not. Honestly, I think it’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love the energy of working for the team, and I love the marketing aspects too.”
“Who came up with punishment? I can’t see Robert doing this.”
“My mom.”
“Maybe she was on to something.”
I nod to myself, wondering if maybe she was. Perhaps she didn’t send me away to punish me. Maybe she sent me away because she knew I lacked direction. I mean, I do love this. Creating content. Making people happy. It’s a form of art, down to picking the music, the angles, and the fresh, original, funny content. It’s cool to make engaging videos for something I’m not even that into. Hockey.
“We’re here.” Molly brings me back to the present, and I decide to table all thoughts of my mom for a later time when I can think about it. Right now, I’m in the city, ready to see the sights with a new friend.
56
JOSIE
It’s been a crazy three days since I returned from New York. I’ve barely had a moment to think. I’m creating a new TikTok campaign, so I’ve been running around the whole city interviewing fans and asking them what they love most about hockey. It’s been amazing. The only downside is that I’ve been too busy to call Dane.
I figure he must be insane with his own stuff because he hasn’t reached out either, so I decide to drop by his place before I head home to say hi.
I lift my hand and bang on the door, then follow by hitting the doorbell.
Maybe I should have called first?
That probably would have been the smart move, but I’m impulsive.
My fingers tap a rhythm on the wood as I wait for him to answer the door.
He might not even be here.
I didn’t call or text, yet I expected him to be, what? Waiting for me at his home despite the fact I gave no inclination that I’d be stopping by.
This is not my finest hour.
I drop my arm.
Tap. Tap. Tap. This time, my fingers drum on my thigh. I’m about to turn around when the front door swings open.
“Josephine? What are you doing?” His voice sounds funny. Slurred. Is he drunk?
“Hi.” I smile.
He steps closer to me until he stands in front of me. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t call, so I figured I’d check in.”
His body sways, and now I’m sure he’s not sober. “And so you decided to just show up?”
I brush my hands against my thighs, wiping away a fleck of dust. Anything not to meet his stare.
“This is what we do,” I remind him. “Bad day?” I ask. I reach my hand out to touch him, but he takes a step back before he crosses his arms at his chest, making it very obvious he doesn’t want me to touch him.