Page 84 of All Bets Are Off

“They want it, Hailey!” Sam cheers, and I collapse back against my seat in amazed disbelief. “They were so impressed with the work you did, and it’s exactly what they were hoping for from you. I’m still negotiating with them, but there is an offer on the table for thirty thousand as it stands, and unless you’ve changed your mind . . . I’m going to accept. What do you say?”

Thirty grand? For my work? I’m speechless. I try to reply, try to say Yes, yes, yes, but the only noise that passes my lips are choked breaths. Theo reaches for my hand, squeezes it in my lap. “Yes! I accept. Oh my gosh. Yes, yes, yes. I absolutely want to accept their offer!”

“Congratulations, Hailey! I’ll email you all the details. Have a safe flight home, and don’t forget to celebrate!”

My entire body is so numb from shock that as I lower my phone from my ear, it simply slips straight through my fingers and bounces off Theo’s leg. He picks it up from the ground, an expectant grin on his face.

“That sounds like good news, Hails.”

I grab both his arms as I stand from my seat, my legs like Jell-O, pulling him up with me. “Theo.” He nods enthusiastically, blue eyes shining. “Theo. I did it.”

Sliding his hands beneath my thighs, Theo lifts me straight off the ground and spins me around. “I knew you would, Hails!” he cheers in my ear as I rest my hands on his shoulders, feeling weightless. “You did it!”

I can’t tell if I’m laughing or crying—somehow, I’m doing both. The joy spreads through my body like whiplash. It’s seven in the morning in the airport, and Theodore Sinclair has me in his arms, and the dream I’ve been chasing for so many years has finally come true.

“What happened?” John asks, yanking off his headphones.

“This woman right here,” Theo says as he sets me back down, “is going to be a bestselling author.” My cheeks ache from grinning so hard as he cups my face in both hands, grazing his lips over mine. “And I’m so goddamn proud of her.”

36

Evelyn

Jameson and I are running late. We were too caught up with saying goodbye to one another in the most memorable of ways, his breath against my skin, his hands on my body through the hazy darkness of his room at 6 a.m., that we are now dashing through the terminal. Okay, I’m running late. His flight to Atlanta leaves twenty minutes later than my flight to Miami. It’s nice that we shared a ride to the airport, giving us that little bit more time together before we part ways. Though I can’t enjoy it much thanks to my rising stress levels. If I don’t make it on this damn plane, Addy will flip. It was her one condition for the weekend—for everyone to make it onto the flight home, alive and in one piece.

“Where’s your gate?” Jameson says, eyes scanning the departures screen above us as I fumble with my boarding pass.

“D7,” I say.

“I’m A10.”

I look at the signs next to the screen. A Gates are to the right, D Gates to the left. My flight says it has started its pre-boarding. I turn to Jameson with a heavy ache in my chest, because I’m not ready to say goodbye for real.

“I don’t want—”

“I’ll walk you there,” he interrupts, reaching for my hand and intertwining our fingers. “I still have time.”

Hand in hand, we walk briskly toward the D Gates, and I groan when we have to ride a tram to the concourse. I worry I’m going to delay Jameson getting back to his own gate in time, because it is at the completely opposite end of the terminal from mine. But he’s holding my hand tight, like maybe it doesn’t matter that much if he gets bumped to a later flight. As we emerge from the tram, I see the sign for gate D7 up ahead. There’s still a big crowd waiting to board, so I breathe a sigh of relief. Made it.

“There’s your brother,” Jameson says, pointing to him in line.

Theo spots us approaching and steps out of line, throwing his hands up at me in exasperation. “Jesus Christ, Evie, I’ve been calling you. I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

“Sorry. My phone’s dead,” I say sheepishly, because I slept in Jameson’s hotel room last night (again) and forgot to borrow a charging cable. It’s going to be a long flight home without music, but I’m so damn tired from the chaos of this weekend that I’ll sleep most of the flight, anyway. “Where’s Addy?” I ask, looking over his shoulder. Only Hailey, John and Tyler are in line.

“She and Liam aren’t here yet,” Hailey tells me, throwing her head back with a groan. “But she just told us she’s nearly here.”

“Yeah, because she answers her phone when I call her,” Theo says, giving me a pointed glare.

I study the agents at the desk, and they’re checking boarding passes at a calm, leisurely speed. This line isn’t moving fast. I still have time to say goodbye.

Tugging on Jameson’s hand, I pull him over to an empty row of seats for some privacy. When I tilt my chin up to look at him, I feel like I’m going to cry. I do not cry over men, so it’s obviously the sleep deprivation—but also a little bit because I know exactly what I’m going to be missing in my life from now on. And that’s a drop-dead gorgeous man from Atlanta who calls me baby girl and kisses me earnestly and saves me from all of the trouble I get myself into.

“I hate that this is what you’ve done to me,” I say, pouting at him. “Turned me into a girl who wants to cry over a guy she’s only known for a weekend.”

Jameson clasps my waist with both hands, pulling me in closer. “Two weeks from now, I have the day off work for Labor Day. I was thinking maybe I could fly in to visit you. Even just for the day. It’s a short flight.” His brows raise hopefully.

“You’d do that? You’d really come visit me?”