Page 107 of Off the Mark
I tugged on my left cuff link. “You can thank him and Tabitha, by the way. They did all of this since I don’t own one of these myself.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. “For putting on a suit for me. And coming as my date. My real one.”
I took her hand and brought it to my lips for a kiss. “Thank you for asking. So what is this shindig all about?”
There’d been signs everywhere when I walked in—all the sponsors of the convention seemed to be out in numbers, as well as racers, their trainers, and agents. It wasn’t exactly black tie, but it was fancy enough to remind me of the dinners we went to when I played baseball, charming the owners and their staff.
I’d spent those nights itchy and uncomfortable and yanking at my tight collar. I knew Charlie felt similarly and could spot the pro athletes around us based on their stiff body language alone.
“The galas are a big deal,” she said. “Especially for the fans. It signifies the end of the convention and gets everyone amped up for the championship race.” Her smile widened. “I used to go with my dad to events like this when I was little, before he got hurt and he didn’t mind putting on an outfit without holes in it. I would steal all the shrimp cocktails and eat them in the corner. Wondering if I’d ever get to have fans the way that he did.”
“How do you feel being here tonight?”
“Grateful,” she said. “Always grateful.”
“And how do you feel about the race?”
A quick grin. “I’d love to say something cool likethat championship is mine for the taking.The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll win. I’ve been competing against some of the most talented women in my field and they want it as badly as I do.”
Her throat worked on a swallow. “But how Ifeelis way different from when I got here, way different from how it’s been for these past months. More focused, more aware of my body, less scared and anxious when I think about competing. Does that make sense?”
I stroked my thumb across the top of her hand. “Nothing beats a victory. And nothing beats knowing that you deserve to be out there, winning or not. It’s powerful, remembering the joy of it. I can tell you feel differently. It’s pretty obvious to me. And”—I lowered my voice— “for what it’s worth, that championshipisyours for the taking.”
Her response was a pretty smile that spun my heart around.
I wanted to ask about Bettencourt. When we’d shaken on our agreement at that suburban bar—fake dating for a couple of miracles—she’d hoped to be back on their good side by now.
Something in me hesitated to poke around the strategic side of this partnership, the pretend parts tied to money and outcomes. Like bringing it all back up again would rip a hole in the dreamy paradise of the past couple days.
Charlie stepped close and loosely draped her arm around my neck. I curled my hands around her waist, and the skin-to-skin contact made my rush of concern vanish.
“More importantly…didn’t you say this morning that Luciana and the board were coming by today?” she asked. “Did they formally offer you the job?”
I pressed my lips together, trying not to break. But it was pointless. She gripped my face, I burst into a grin, and she said, “Rowan. Did something amazing happen? Tell me, tell me.”
“Yeah, something amazing happened,” I said slowly. “Luciana spoke with the board after our call and to Elaine as well. Who said that hiring me as her replacement was the smartest move because no one was as dedicated as I was. That no one would work harder for the folks that relied on us. Then they officially offered me the position as executive director. And I…said yes.”
Her jaw dropped. Then she pulled me in for a hug, and I sank fully into it, grateful for her affection.
“Are you scared?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah, I am,” I admitted, resisting the urge to shrug it off and crack a joke. “I want this new role. Want this new challenge. But life happens and it’s random. A car accident in the middle of the night took away my parents. The first pitch during my sixty-first game in the major leagues took away my dreams. Sometimes hoping for new, happy things feels dangerous to me. It can so easily disappear.”
She stroked my hair before pulling back to look at me. “Does it feel safer not to take risks? To stay where you are?”
I smiled, grabbed my chest. “Bullseye. How’d you know?”
“When my dad’s racing career ended, he didn’t know what to put his energy into,” Charlie said. “He had so much anger. So much rage and grief. And he was a man used to beating his emotions into submission through physical activity. Riding the track in our back woods for hours, until he was exhausted. Without that outlet, he was so sad and stagnant.”
Charlie propped her elbow on the bar and set her chin in her hand. “There’s not a right or wrong way to handle this stuff. My dad’s experience justwas, and that’s okay. I know you had a lot of rage and grief too. But you also found something that made you just as fulfilled, found something that’s made you and your neighborhoodbetter. And I’ve always admired that about you, Rowan. It’s like you feel your fear but you don’t let it hold you back.”
I bent to kiss her cheek, lingered there for a moment. “Thank you for always getting it. I can’t tell you what it means to me.”
She blinked, her eyes shining, but then she was smiling. “Rowan O’Callaghan, executive director. You couldn’t stop being a leader even if you tried.”
“You got me there, gorgeous. Now I just need a cleaning crew to overhaul Elaine’s office. I love that woman, but walking into that chaos every day is a struggle.”
She hummed. “Just one of the many amazing things you’ll do.”
