Page 21

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Page 21

Author: Colleen Hoover

Category: Romance

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She says that like I’m supposed to know who Leah is. I guess in a town this size, most people know most people. I glance back at the door Ledger disappeared through. “I’m not in the market for a hot commodity. Just a lukewarm job.”

Amy laughs and then browses my application for a moment. “Did you grow up here?”

“No, I’m from Denver. I came here for college.” That’s a lie—I never went to college—but it’s a college town, and my intentions were to eventually go. That just never happened.

“Oh, yeah? What’s your degree in?”

“Didn’t finish. That’s why I’m back,” I lie. “Registering for next semester.”

“This job is perfect for that; we can work around your classes. Be here Monday at eight for orientation. Do you have a driver’s license?”

I nod. “Yeah, I’ll bring it.” I leave out the fact that I just got my driver’s license last month, after months of working to get it reinstated. “Thank you.” I try to say that with as little eagerness in my voice as possible, but so far things are working out. I have an apartment and now a job.

Now I just need to find my daughter.

I turn to walk away, but Amy says, “Wait. Do you want to know how much you’re making?”

“Oh. Yeah, of course.”

“Minimum wage. Ridiculous, I know. I don’t own this place, or I’d raise it.” She leans forward and lowers her voice. “You know, you can probably get a job at the Lowe’s warehouse. They pay twice that starting out.”

“I tried online last week. They won’t hire me with my record.”

“Oh. Bummer. Well. See you Monday, then.”

Before I go, I tap my fist on the counter and ask a question I probably shouldn’t ask. “One more thing. You know the guy I was talking to? Ledger?”

She raises an amused brow. “What about him?”

“Does he have kids?”

“Just a niece or something. She comes in here with him sometimes. Cute girl, but I’m pretty sure he’s single and childless.”

A niece?

Or could it be his deceased best friend’s daughter?

Does he shop here with my daughter?

I somehow force a smile through the onslaught of emotions suddenly spiraling through me. I thank her again, but then I leave in a hurry, hoping by some miracle Ledger’s truck is still outside and that my daughter is in the truck with him.

I look around the parking lot, but he’s already gone. My stomach sinks, but I can still feel the adrenaline disguised as hope running through my body. Because now I know he coaches T-ball, and Diem more than likely plays on his team, because why else would he coach if he doesn’t have children of his own?

I debate going straight to the T-ball field, but I need to do this right. I want to speak with Patrick and Grace first.

CHAPTER TEN

LEDGER

I’m in the dugout pulling the equipment out of the bag when Grady slips his fingers through the chain-link fence, gripping it. “So? Who was she?”

I pretend not to know what he’s talking about. “Who was who?”

“The girl you had in your truck last night.”

Grady’s eyes are bloodshot. It looks like the night shift change is taking a toll on him. “A customer. I was just giving her a ride home.”

Grady’s wife, Whitney, is standing next to him now. At least the rest of the mom brigade isn’t with her, because I can tell immediately by the way she’s looking at me that everyone on the T-ball field is already talking. I can only be confronted by one couple at a time. “Grady said you had a girl in your truck last night.”

I shoot Grady a look, and he holds his hands up helplessly, like his wife yanked the information out of him.

“It was no one,” I repeat. “Just giving a customer a ride home.” I wonder how many times I’m going to have to repeat this today.

“Who was she?” Whitney asks.

“No one you know.”

“We know everyone around here,” Grady says.

“She’s not from here,” I say. I might be lying; I might be telling the truth. I wouldn’t know since I know very little about her. Other than what she tastes like.

“Destin has been working on his swing,” Grady says, changing the subject to his son. “Wait’ll you see what he can do.”

Grady wants to be the envy of all the other fathers. I don’t get it. T-ball is supposed to be fun, but people like him put so much competitiveness into it and ruin the sport.

Two weeks ago, Grady almost got into a fight with the umpire. He probably would have hit him if Roman hadn’t pushed him off the field.

Not sure getting that heated over a T-ball game is a good look for anyone. But he takes his son’s sports very seriously.

Me . . . not so much. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because Diem isn’t my daughter. If she were, would I get angry over a sport that doesn’t even keep score? I don’t know that I could love a biological child more than I love Diem, so I doubt I’d be any different when it comes to their sports. Some of the parents assume that since I played professional football I’d be more competitive. I’ve dealt with competitive coaches my whole life, though. I agreed to coach this team specifically to prevent some competitive asshole from coming in and setting a bad example for Diem.

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