Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry, he what? Foster told Trace…?”
She nodded and shot me a warm smile, teeth flashing as her ponytail bobbed in excitement. “Congratulations, by the way. I didn’t know it was official yet, even though I’m not surprised they made you the offer.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to correct her, to inform her no one had made me any offer yet and it was for damned sure not official, but for all I knew, it was only a few hours before it would be true.
I politely excused myself and headed outside, if only to keep from murdering Foster Blake with a butter knife.
He thought I’d gotten and accepted an offer but hadn’t told him about it? And he hadn’t said a word to me about his assumption?
Anger coursed through my veins. I strode to Cabin 8 and dialed my cousin Ella.
“Hey, babe. How’d it go last night?” she asked.
“Can you come get me?” I tried to keep my voice steady so my anger didn’t show. “I have a video call in an hour I’d like privacy for.”
In true Ella fashion, she read the room and agreed without asking a single question. Within twenty minutes, I’d informed Robyn of my need to leave campus for the morning, thanked her for proctoring the exam for my students—which she’d offered to do anyway—and grabbed a nicer shirt for the video meeting.
As Ella was backing the car out of the spot in front of the cabin, Foster and Chickie walked by and noticed me leaving.
“Want me to stop?” Ella asked softly.
“No,” I said, looking anywhere but at Foster fucking Blake.
My anger toward him only grew and festered throughout the morning until I was an overfull pot on a roiling boil.
Stanford offered me everything I asked for and more. They made me feel wanted and appreciated, respected and recognized. I felt the full benefit of the professional and academic achievements I’d made leading up to now. Getting hired at St. Ignatius had been an honor, but landing the job at Stanford? It was serendipitous.
Everything I’d ever thought I’d wanted for my career. For my future.
So the fact that I felt hollow inside instead of excited made me even angrier. And that anger had a clear target.
When my mother ran me back to SERA, I considered confronting Foster, asking him why he was spreading lies about my job situation. I thought about confessing my feelings for him and begging him to be honest about his own. Begging him to consider a future for the two of us.
But I’d already tried talking to him multiple times about moving past our “summer fling” agreement, and he’d shot me down every single time. A relationship between us was never going to be a possibility if it was always me pressing for it.
Foster had tried to tell me he wasn’t interested in more, over and over, and I hadn’t listened because I didn’t want to hear it.
“Hey, Tommy,” Trace called from the path leading to our cabin. “Wait up.”
“I’m headed back to the classroom as soon as I change out of these clothes,” I said, indicating my button-down.
He waved a hand through the air. “No rush. The instructors stole all the students for a helo thing up on Pronghorn Ridge anyway. They won’t be back until four at the earliest, unless the weather turns. Monroe said if you want to join, just catch him on the radio. Otherwise, consider yourself with a few hours off. Although I’d love your help assessing candidates for the medical position later, if you have time.” He smiled. “Congratulations, by the way. Foster told me your exciting news, not that it’s a surprise. Stanford is lucky to have you.”
I considered correcting him, but I wasn’t sure I could do it without saying something scathing about Foster Blake. Instead, I thanked him and headed into my cabin to change. After yanking on my boots, filling my hydration pack, and stuffing a few necessities into it, I took off on a long hike in hopes of exercising and exorcising my demons—one tall, hard-headed, muscly demon in particular.
And I headed in the exact opposite direction from Pronghorn Ridge.
23
FOSTER
We called the helo exercise when the wind advisory came with an added warning of sleet. The low front expected from Canada had moved much faster than predicted, sending us back to SERA.
After stowing our gear in the increasing darkness from heavy cloud cover, I set out to find Tommy. Despite my hurt feelings at him not telling me about Stanford, I knew I needed to congratulate him rather than let this fester any longer.
He wasn’t in Cabin 8, and he wasn’t in the classroom or instructors’ offices. I poked my head into Trace’s office. “You seen Tommy?”
He shook his head. “Not since midday, but Robyn said she saw him take off on a hike. I assumed he was back by now.”