for unsettling emotions that flared up for no apparent reason other than the fact that she might have been in the longest sex drought in history?
Zara hit the REPLY button and sent her response to Jax: Thanks for the offer. When do you want me to start?
“Can we talk?” Larry asked.
She eyed him. “You’re still here?”
“Yes, I’m not leaving until you talk to me?”
“You know, maybe I expected too much from you all along. I thought we were better than that. I thought you were different from everyone who doubted me. But you’re not. You never were.”
“Will you let me explain?” he shouted.
“Explain what? How you took my idea and passed it off as your own? What about how you’re a selfish, kiss-ass, pansy-ass, stupid-ass, entitled asshole?” Thank you for the lesson, Alma. “Better yet, how about this? I don’t care about your explanation, because I don’t care about you. You and Jeffrey Huntington can go to hell.”
“You don’t mean that. You can’t quit your job.”
“I said what I said.” Once the last file downloaded, she pulled her thumb drive from the laptop and wiped it clean. She picked up her briefcase and her purse and stalked toward the door, stopping only because he blocked her way. “Move.”
Larry lifted his hands in the air and stepped aside. “Zara.”
She closed her eyes, halting in the doorway. “Larry, stop. Stop trying to explain, stop acting like you care. There really is no need to pretend anymore. I’m out.”
Deciding to quit her job on the fly had zapped all of her energy, but she’d done it. And she couldn’t say that she regretted the choice to leave Huntington Sports behind. Yet, with all that bravado she’d displayed in front of Jeffrey and Larry, she felt a well of panic creep in once she’d stepped outside the office. She made it to her car just in time for the first tear to fall. Then the dam broke.
* * *
“Thanks, Christian.” Zara kicked off her shoes. “I knew I could count on you. Call you tomorrow.”
She ended the call, tossed her phone on the sofa, and plopped down on the plush cushions. That was the last call she’d make today. Her agenda for the evening consisted of wine, pajamas, more wine, and her DVR. Twenty episodes of Say Yes to the Dress lay in wait for her.
Over the last few hours, she’d contacted all of her clients to let them know she’d be moving to Pure Talent. Out of her twenty-eight active clients, twenty-four had agreed to move with her, including the new NBA-bound client she’d just signed. Most had commented on how excited they were for her, and several mentioned that there was no way they’d stay with Huntington if she left. In the end, everyone who’d decided to follow her had remarked that her drive and dedication to them made the move a no-brainer.
Growing up the daughter of Alexander Reid had given her name recognition when she broke into the field. Her first client? Her college boyfriend, who went on to become one of the highest-paid rookies in the league. Although that relationship crashed and burned after he entered the NBA, the connection had helped Zara amass several new clients. So, when her younger brother, Zeke, signed with the Kings, she was well-versed in contract language and... I can’t think about him right now, because I’m already on an emotional trip.
Basketball was her thing, though. Zara knew how to handle a ball, had spent years practicing, playing in youth leagues, and attending top basketball camps. An injury in high school had effectively ruined her plans to play college ball and eventually go on to play for the WNBA. But she still loved the game, loved the sound of shoes squeaking on the court and balls swishing through the hoops. She enjoyed the crowd, the stadium food, and the smell of popcorn and peanuts floating through the air. Most of all, she thrived on the fast-paced, unpredictable rush of her job.
Although she didn’t need a law degree to do her job, she’d decided to follow her initial plan and get her Juris Doctor. Once she obtained her license to represent players in the league, she created her own company and worked for herself, until she joined the Huntington team. Becoming part of an agency had made sense to her, because of the support the established company could provide.
It was during her time there that she decided to become a certified MLB agent and snagged baseball’s Christian Knight. The genuine good guy had become more than a client. She considered him one of her best friends, which is why she’d saved his call for last. And true to form, he’d offered his unwavering support and planned to visit soon.
Zara picked up her phone and ordered dinner via DoorDash—orange chicken, with shrimp fried rice and extra egg rolls, from her favorite Chinese restaurant. She quickly changed into her pj’s, grabbed the bottle of red from her wine rack and a glass, and settled in on the couch.
Her doorbell rang right before the first bride said “yes” to a ten-thousand-dollar gown. She pushed the pause button and hurried to the door. Peering out of the glass, she grumbled a curse. “Go away,” she shouted.
“If you don’t open this door, I’ll just use my key. I was just trying to respect the boundaries by ringing the bell.”
Zara swung the door open. “I canceled dinner because I didn’t want to be bothered.”
“I’m not doing this with you.” Her sister pushed past her and walked into the house. “You can’t call me in the middle of my workday, tell me you quit your job and are moving to Atlanta, without expecting me to come here and talk you out of it. Besides, I’m the oldest.”
“By eleven months, Rissa. That’s not enough time for you to be so damn bossy all the time.”
“Whatever. It still counts.” Larissa dropped her purse on the floor next to the couch. “I figured you ordered Chinese, so I added my order to yours.” She strolled into the kitchen, like she belonged there and grabbed another wineglass. “We’re spending time together tonight. Whether you want to or not.”
“You’re ridiculous. There is such a thing as wanting to be alone.”
“Why? So you can wallow?” She filled her glass with the red wine that Zara wanted to drink by herself. “Not going to happen, sista.”
“Okay, we’re not friends. So, why are you here?”
Larissa laughed. “I don’t have to be your friend. I’m your big sister.”
Frustrated, Zara crawled back onto the couch and buried her head in one of the throw pillows. “Go away.”
“Never.”
“Ugh, you get on my nerves.”
And it had been that way since they were kids. Why her parents decided it would be great to have children one year apart was beyond her? Three children back-to-back: Larissa, Zara, and Ezekiel. The thought of her brother, Zeke, once again caused a familiar pang in her gut, one that hadn’t gone away in the four years since he’d died.
“Zara, look at me.”
She met her sister’s concerned eyes.
“I’m worried about you. Not because you quit your job, not because you’re moving, but
