Terrible Advice From a Career Temp- Chapter Seven: Consider the Risks

Five years later, almost nothing about Piper's life looked the way she'd once imagined adulthood would.

She had her bachelor's degree.

That counted for something.

She'd earned it through night classes, tutoring sessions, weekend assignments, and enough late-night cramming to permanently associate certain brands of instant noodles with academic distress.

Unfortunately, the company that had promised to pay for her education folded during her junior year.

Apparently, corporations could also drop out of college.

Piper had been left with half the promised tuition assistance, all of the degree requirements, and an avalanche of student loans that continued arriving faithfully every month.

Still, she'd finished.

Piper always finished.

She survived.

She always survived.

The problem was that survival occasionally came with compromises.

One of those compromises was named Blaise Longs.

His real name was Leland Kitz.

He concealed this fact with the vigilance of someone in federal witness protection.

Blaise had entered Piper's life gradually.

At first, she'd liked his calmness.

Piper had spent so much of her youth around chaos that Blaise's ability to sit on a couch for six consecutive hours seemed almost spiritual.

His teasing seemed affectionate.

His lack of ambition seemed bohemian.

His complete indifference toward conventional success felt refreshing.

For a while.

Then Piper began to notice that Blaise's relaxed attitude was considerably easier to maintain when somebody else paid the electric bill.

He didn't work much.

He didn't clean much.

He didn't contribute much.

Whenever Piper tried to have a serious conversation, Blaise turned it into a joke.

“Stop taking everything so seriously.”

Or:

“You're overthinking again.”

Or, Piper's personal favorite:

“Let me tell you what you actually mean.”

Nothing made Piper want to commit a felony quite like being informed what she actually meant.

She wasn't miserable enough to leave.

That was the problem.

She was simply unhappy enough to wilt.

Slowly.

Quietly.

One day at a time.

But today wasn't about Blaise.

Today was about Sofie and Benny.

They were finally getting married.

It had taken several children, countless postponements, one pregnancy scare that turned out to be food poisoning, and approximately six years of Dena asking, So when are you two actually doing this?

But the day had arrived.

The venue was a renovated barn surrounded by rolling fields.

Inside, wagon-wheel chandeliers hung from exposed beams. The floors smelled faintly of cedar and polish. Tables were dressed in cream linens, greenery, and little glass candleholders Sofie had purchased in bulk after spending three months pretending she wasn't obsessed with wedding websites.

Piper was maid of honor.

This meant that for the previous several weeks, she had ceased being a human being and

become an unpaid logistics company.

Flowers.

Centerpieces.

Ribbons.

Bobby pins.

Ring boxes.

Toddlers.

Thank-you notes.

Vendor calls.

Guest questions.

Benny's boss.

Benny's boss's boss.

Especially Benny's boss's boss.

Mr. Phil Frank had somehow learned that the family possessed a loose social connection to Aspis Hawkins, whose construction-logistics company had become considerably more successful over the years.

Mr. Frank was fascinated by this.

During a conversation about the rehearsal dinner—which had been mercifully downgraded from a formal dinner to cocktails at a local pub—Benny approached Piper.

“Can you invite Hawk?”

Piper stared at him.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“My boss's boss keeps asking.”

“Then tell your boss's boss this is your wedding and not a networking conference.”

“I did.”

“And?”

“He keeps asking.”

Piper sighed.

She hadn't spoken to Hawk in five years.

For all she knew, he'd blocked her too.

So she added his ancient email address to a general invitation she was sending out anyway.

There.

Diplomacy accomplished.

She expected nothing to come of it.

Which was why, at the rehearsal dinner, she almost dropped her drink when Aspis Hawkins walked through the door.

Piper didn't see him at first.

She noticed the reaction.

A subtle hush.

A few heads turning.

Benny straightening.

Mr. Frank practically levitating from his chair.

Then Piper looked toward the entrance.

Hawk.

He was broader than she remembered.

Not heavier exactly.

Solid.

His hair had returned with a vengeance. It was thicker now, slightly wavy and neatly styled.

Piper briefly wondered if money could reverse male-pattern baldness.

Apparently success came with excellent dermatology.

But his face had changed more than anything.

There was something quieter in it.

Harder.

The restless uncertainty she'd seen in San Antonio was gone.

Hawk shook Benny's hand.

When he raised his arm, Piper noticed something else.

A faint pale band around his ring finger.

Mostly faded.

Not completely.

Dena appeared beside Piper.

“Wedding-ring mark.”

Piper nearly jumped.

“Mom.”

“I'm just observing.”

“Observe something else.”

“Be careful.”

“Don't.”

Dena wandered away with the satisfied expression of a woman who had successfully planted a bomb and no longer needed to remain at the scene.

Piper looked back at Hawk.

Five years.

The last time she'd seen him, he'd been drunk, miserable, and crying into restaurant linens after calling her mid.

Then he'd announced plans to move near her.

Then she'd told him not to.

Then she'd blocked him.

At the time, she'd believed she was ending something unhealthy before either of them could make it worse.

Maybe she had.

Now Hawk stood across the room looking successful, composed, and completely unreadable.

Piper didn't know whether to run away or walk over.

So she chose a third option.

She picked up a tray of cocktail napkins.

Adulthood had taught her that carrying something made people less likely to ask why you were standing around awkwardly.

Hawk eventually found her.

“Piper.”

She turned.

“Hawk.”

For a second, neither knew what came next.

Then he smiled.

It was small.

But familiar.

“Been a while.”

“Little bit.”

“You look good.”

“So do you.”

She glanced toward his hair.

“Really good, apparently.”

Hawk touched the top of his head.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

His eyes narrowed.

Piper smiled innocently.

They began catching up.

Carefully.

Work.

Family.

Where they'd lived.

People they both vaguely remembered.

They avoided Hawaii.

They avoided San Antonio.

They avoided the restaurant.

They especially avoided mid.

Then Blaise arrived.

Late.

Rumpled.

Complaining.

He had successfully avoided being useful during every stage of wedding preparation and had apparently decided consistency was important.

Normally, Blaise could go an entire evening without acknowledging Piper's existence beyond asking where she'd put his phone charger.

Then he saw her talking to Hawk.

Suddenly, Piper became fascinating.

Blaise marched over.

“So you're the big construction guy?”

Before Piper could stop him, Blaise slapped Hawk on the shoulder.

Hawk looked at the hand.

Then at Blaise.

Piper nearly inhaled the olive from her Manhattan.

“Blaise,” she coughed.

“What?”

She recovered.

“Hawk, this is Blaise. Blaise, Hawk.”

Blaise grinned.

“Pip says you two go way back.”

Piper had never called herself Pip in her life.

Hawk's eyes moved from Blaise to Piper.

Something flickered there.

Gone almost immediately.

“Yeah,” Hawk said. “We knew each other.”

Blaise put an arm around Piper.

Hawk looked at it.

Then back at her.

“Well,” he said. “Good seeing you.”

He excused himself.

Piper watched him go.

Blaise squeezed her shoulder.

“Seems intense.”

“You slapped him.”

“He's a dude.”

“That isn't an explanation.”

Blaise wandered toward the bar.

Piper found Hawk later near the kitchen.

“What brings you all the way up here?” she asked.

Hawk shrugged.

“I was around.”

Piper stared at him.

Hawk stared back.

They both knew that was probably nonsense.

Before she could ask anything else, someone called her name from the reception room.

Then somebody else needed her.

Then Benny needed something.

Then Mr. Frank wanted to know whether Hawk might be interested in discussing a regional subcontracting arrangement.

Piper escaped before committing murder.

On the drive home after the rehearsal dinner, the children slept in the back seat.

Sofie had already left with Benny.

For the first time all day, everything was quiet.

Dena drove.

Piper watched the dark road.

After several minutes, Dena asked:

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Dena waited.

Piper sighed.

“Seeing Hawk was weird.”

“Weird bad?”

“I don't know.”

“Weird good?”

“I don't know.”

“Helpful.”

Piper leaned against the window.

“It knocked something loose.”

Dena nodded as if she'd expected exactly that.

Then she changed subjects with suspicious casualness.

“Blaise went back to your apartment.”

Piper looked over.

“He was supposed to pick up the thank-you notes.”

“He didn't.”

“Of course he didn't.”

“Benny already handled it.”

Piper sighed.

“I'd be angry,” Dena said, “but I think we're all used to Blaise.”

There it was.

Not criticism.

Worse.

Acceptance.

Everyone was used to him.

Used to Piper doing things.

Used to Blaise not doing them.

Used to Piper making excuses.

Used to compensating.

Used to expecting nothing.

Piper looked back out the window.

“I know.”

Dena didn't say anything else.

She didn't have to.

The wedding itself was beautiful.

Sofie glowed.

Benny cried before she even reached the altar.

Then he cried through the vows.

Then he cried while putting on the ring.

At one point, Sofie whispered:

“Can you see?”

Benny shook his head.

The guests laughed.

By the time they kissed, everyone was cheering.

For approximately forty-five minutes, everything went perfectly.

Then the reception began.

Blaise hadn't bothered attending the ceremony.

He arrived afterward.

Still drunk from the night before.

Piper knew this because he announced:

“Hair of the dog!”

while accepting champagne.

Her family immediately implemented containment procedures.

“Blaise, can you check the parking lot?”

“Blaise, somebody needs to move those boxes.”

“Blaise, can you see if there are more napkins?”

At one point, Dena sent him to locate an extension cord that Piper was fairly certain did not exist.

It worked for a while.

Then Piper stood to give her maid-of-honor toast.

Blaise acquired the microphone.

Piper had no idea how.

“Ladies and gentlemen!”

Sofie went pale.

Benny mouthed:

Oh no.

Piper's stomach dropped.

“Let's make tonight even more unforgettable!”

“No,” Piper whispered.

Blaise turned dramatically toward her.

“Ms. Piper.”

His tone sounded less romantic than disciplinary.

“Since everybody else is sealing the deal tonight...why don't we?”

Piper stared.

Blaise dropped to one knee.

He didn't have a ring.

He simply extended his hand.

Then he smirked.

As though he had just offered Piper an extraordinary opportunity.

The room froze.

Benny's mother muttered something that sounded theological.

Piper couldn't move.

Across the room, she saw Hawk.

He had kept mostly to himself all day.

Now his expression hardened.

Their eyes met.

Something in his face dimmed.

Behind the cake table, Sofie began waving both arms frantically.

Piper saw her.

Unfortunately, Piper interpreted Sofie's signal as:

SAY YES AND GET HIM OFF THE FLOOR.

Sofie actually meant:

STOP THIS MAN IMMEDIATELY.

Piper swallowed.

“Yes?”

Polite applause broke out.

Confused applause.

The kind of applause people produced because everyone else had started clapping and nobody wanted responsibility for stopping first.

Blaise jumped up.

He grabbed Piper.

Then he kissed her.

Messily.

Piper pulled back.

The applause weakened further.

Hawk sat down.

The proposal wasn't what broke Piper.

It was everything afterward.

Congratulations.

Whispers.

Questions.

People looking at her.

Blaise demanding another kiss.

Blaise telling Benny's coworkers that he'd finally “locked her down.”

Locked her down.

Piper stood there listening to him describe their relationship like he'd won a promotional giveaway.

Her hands began shaking.

She looked around the room.

Her sister's wedding.

Her family.

Hawk.

Blaise.

Everyone waiting for her to smile.

Something inside Piper finally refused.

She stepped backward.

Blaise reached for her.

“Where you going?”

Piper turned.

Then ran.

She dodged tables.

Guests.

A waiter.

She crossed the porch in heels and nearly lost one on the gravel path.

She kept going.

Her heart hammered.

She reached her car.

Grabbed the handle.

Locked.

Piper stared through the window.

Her purse sat inside the barn.

With her keys.

“Of course.”

She rested her forehead against the glass.

“Of course it is.”

A tear escaped.

Then another.

Piper wiped them away angrily.

“Piper?”

She froze.

That voice.

She turned.

Hawk stood several yards away.

He was breathing harder than usual.

He'd followed her.

For one absurd second, Piper remembered a convenience-store parking lot years earlier.

Different car.

Different state.

Same man.

Hawk took a careful step closer.

“You okay?”

“No.”

At least she'd gotten better at answering that question.

“I can't go back in there.”

“You don't have to.”

“I can't face everyone.”

“Then don't.”

Piper wiped her face.

Hawk didn't approach any closer.

He simply waited.

Piper looked at him.

Then five years of unfinished conversation suddenly seemed heavier than everything else.

“I'm sorry.”

Hawk frowned.

“For what?”

“For how I ended things with you.”

“Piper—”

“I blocked you. I disappeared. I thought I was preventing something worse from

happening.”

Hawk looked away.

“I thought maybe I was bad for you. Or you were bad for me. Or we were bad for each other. I didn't know.”

She laughed weakly.

“I still don't know.”

Hawk exhaled.

“You weren't wrong to leave.”

Piper stopped.

“When we stopped talking, I wasn't doing well.”

“I know that now.”

“No. I mean really not well.”

His voice remained steady.

“I got out of the Marines. I drank too much. Pretty much every night for a while. I was angry. Embarrassed. I blamed everybody else because blaming myself would've required admitting I'd screwed up.”

Piper said nothing.

“I turned into somebody I didn't recognize.”

His mouth tightened.

“And somebody you definitely didn't need to stick around for.”

Piper looked down.

“I should've tried to understand.”

“No.”

She looked up.

Hawk shook his head.

“You weren't responsible for fixing me.”

The words landed harder than Piper expected.

“You leaving hurt,” he continued. “But you weren't wrong.”

Silence settled between them.

Not awkward this time.

Just honest.

Piper looked toward his left hand.

Hawk noticed.

“Oh.”

He glanced at the faded mark.

“Divorced.”

Piper nodded.

“Sorry.”

“Me too.”

Another silence.

Then Hawk laughed softly.

“Apparently we're both very good at this.”

“At what?”

“Adulthood.”

Piper laughed despite herself.

“Speak for yourself. I just accidentally got engaged.”

That made him laugh.

Actually laugh.

For a moment, they were younger again.

Not the same.

Just familiar.

Hawk's expression softened.

“I never stopped caring about you.”

Piper's breath caught.

He didn't move toward her.

Didn't touch her.

Didn't turn it into a declaration.

He simply said it.

“I was angry for a while,” he continued. “Then embarrassed. Then life happened.”

“Life does that.”

“Yeah.”

He looked toward the barn.

“Do you want a ride?”

Piper followed his gaze.

“To where?”

“Anywhere.”

“That sounds familiar.”

Hawk smiled.

“I've used the line before.”

“You picked me up at a Stop 'N' Go.”

“I remember.”

“Good.”

“I've learned not to call it a gas station.”

Piper stared at him.

Then started laughing.

Years of tension broke apart in one ridiculous sentence.

Hawk opened his hands.

“So? Ride?”

Piper looked back at the glowing barn.

She wasn't running away from Sofie.

She'd call her.

Apologize.

She'd make sure her sister knew none of this was about her wedding.

She wasn't even running away from Blaise.

That relationship was already over.

Piper simply hadn't told him yet.

This wasn't an escape.

It was a decision.

“I don't know what I want,” she admitted.

“Neither do I.”

Piper looked at Hawk.

Five years ago, she would have needed him to know.

Where they were going.

What they were.

What happened next.

Tonight, she didn't.

Hawk nodded toward his truck.

“I know a diner that's open late.”

Piper considered it.

“Does it have pie?”

“I can confirm pie.”

“Coffee?”

“Probably terrible.”

“Perfect.”

She wiped the last tear from her cheek.

“Okay.”

Hawk opened the passenger door.

Piper stopped before climbing in.

“One thing.”

“What?”

“This doesn't mean we're getting back together.”

“I know.”

“And I'm not getting engaged to you either.”

“I didn't bring a ring.”

“Blaise didn't either.”

Hawk blinked.

“He proposed without a ring?”

“He extended his hand.”

Hawk stared at her.

“Like a business agreement?”

“Basically.”

“Wow.”

“Get in the truck, Hawk.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Piper climbed in.

Hawk walked around to the driver's side.

She looked toward the barn one last time.

Then pulled out her phone.

She texted Sofie:

I'M OKAY. I'm sorry. I love you. I will explain everything tomorrow. Also I am NOT marrying Blaise. Please tell Mom before she starts calling hospitals.

Three dots appeared almost immediately.

Then:

THANK GOD. I WAS TELLING YOU TO SAY NO, IDIOT.

Piper laughed.

Another message arrived.

GO. I LOVE YOU. WE'LL DEAL WITH BLAISE.

Then:

BUT COME GET YOUR PURSE TOMORROW.

Piper smiled.

“Everything okay?” Hawk asked.

“Yeah.”

And this time, it was true.

The truck pulled away.

Behind them was the barn, the reception, and a proposal Piper never should have accepted.

Ahead of them was a diner.

Nothing more had been promised.

That was enough.

Years ago, Hawk had given Piper a ride because she was stranded and had nowhere else to go.

Tonight, Piper had plenty of places she could go.

She simply chose the passenger seat.

And somehow, that made all the difference.