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

Five years later, nothing about Piper’s life looked the way she once imagined it would.

She had her bachelor’s degree—a milestone she earned through night classes, tutoring shifts, and enough late-night coffee to kick-start a small farm animal. But the company that once covered her tuition folded during her junior year, leaving her trapped beneath a half-honored contract and an avalanche of student loans she was still battling to this day.

She survived. She always did. But surviving came with compromises—like falling into a relationship that wasn’t romantic so much as transactional. A relationship that was, technically, committed.

Brody Longs—real name Leland Kitz, which he hid like he was in witness protection—slipped into her life like a slow leak and gradually filled every space she didn’t have the strength to guard. For a long time, Piper convinced herself that his calm was stability, his teasing was affection, his laziness was bohemian charm.

Lately, his quirks had teeth. Brody didn’t work much. Didn’t help much. Let her pay for nearly everything. And whenever she talked—really talked—he cut her off with jokes or dismissals.

“Stop taking things so seriously,” he’d say.“You’re overthinking again.” “Let me tell you what you meant to say—”

Every day, she wilted a little more.

But today wasn’t supposed to be about Brody. Today was about Sofie and Benny’s wedding—finally, after years of babies, chaos, and postponements.

The barn venue smelled of cedar and polished floors, the wagon-wheel chandeliers twinkling over the rustic reception hall. Piper, as maid of honor, wrangled bouquets, bobby pins, ring boxes, toddlers, and Mr. Frank’s fragile ego. Everything was going well…

…until Hawk walked in.

She didn’t see him at first—she felt the hush spread across the room.

Aspis Hawkins stepped through the doorway broader than she remembered, colder around the edges, jaw tense. His hair was thicker now, a little wavy, neatly styled. And when he lifted a hand to greet Benny, Piper caught the faint tan line on his ring finger.

Gone, but still haunting him.

Dena elbowed Piper. “Wedding ring ghost. Man’s got history.”

“Don’t,” Piper muttered, swallowing nerves.

She hadn’t spoken to Hawk since the Texas disaster—where he’d cried into his shirt and declared them both losers. Piper, thinking she was preventing further hurt, blocked him and cut ties.

Now he stood across the room, successful, polished, unreadable.

Piper didn’t know whether to run or stare.

Brody arrived late, rumpled, and complaining. When he saw Hawk talking to Piper, he inserted himself like a man who didn’t believe in social cues or boundaries.

“So you’re the big construction guy?” Brody barked, slapping Hawk’s shoulder. “Pip says you two go way back.”

Piper nearly inhaled a toothpick from the cocktail she was sipping.

Hawk’s eyes flickered with something—something she was afraid to name.

Later, in the kitchen, she asked, “What brings you back here?”

Hawk shrugged. “Maybe I still have your social media on my radar. Maybe I came to see if you were getting married.”

The words knocked something loose inside her.

The next evening, the wedding began beautifully.

Sofie glowed. Benny sobbed uncontrollably through his vows. The guests cheered.

But the reception? That’s where everything unraveled.

Brody, champagne-wobbling and overconfident, grabbed the microphone just as Piper was about to give her maid-of-honor toast.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he boomed. “Let’s make this night even more unforgettable!”

Sofie paled. Benny mouthed Oh no.

Brody turned dramatically toward Piper.

“Ms. Piper,” he said, scolding tone and all, “since everyone else is sealing the deal—why don’t we?” He dropped to one knee. Held out a ring. Smirked like he was doing her a favor.

The room froze.

Across the hall, Hawk’s expression hardened. Something dimmed in his eyes.

Sofie, behind the cake table, waved frantically—trying to signal to make him stop—but Piper misread it as say yes so he got off the stage.

Piper forced out a weak, “Yes?”

Polite applause.Tense whispers. Brody pulled her into a messy, embarrassing kiss.

Hawk left without a word.

But it wasn’t the proposal that made Piper break.

It was the aftermath.

The whispers.The judgment.The realization that she didn’t want any of this—not the ring, not the crowd, not the man.

Brody kept demanding another kiss, bragging to Benny’s coworkers like he’d won a trophy. Piper’s hands shook. Her humiliation boiled over.

Without warning, she pushed away from Brody, dodged the guests, and sprinted out of the reception hall—heels clacking across the porch and down the gravel path, heart pounding like it wanted out of her chest.

She didn’t know where she was going. She just knew she couldn’t stay.

She reached her car, yanked the handle—

Locked.

Her purse was still inside the venue.

“Of course,” she whispered, slamming her forehead against the window.

A tear slipped free. Then another.

“Piper?”

She spun around.

Hawk stood several yards behind her, chest rising and falling like he’d been running too. He must’ve left right after she did. He must’ve gone after her.

He took a slow step closer. “Are you alright?”

“No,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I—I can’t go back in there. I can’t face them. Any of them.”

Hawk’s jaw tightened. “You shouldn’t have had to.”

Piper wiped her face with trembling hands. “I’m sorry,” she whispered suddenly. “For how I left things with you. Blocking you. Disappearing. I handled everything wrong. I thought I was protecting you—or maybe me. I don’t know. But I’m sorry.”

Hawk looked away, exhaling through his nose like the words hit him deep.

“When we stopped talking,” he said softly, “I wasn’t in a good place. After the Marines, I drank too much. Every night. I was miserable, foggy, and angry at everything. I turned into someone I didn’t even recognize. Someone unbearable.”

Piper’s chest ached.

“I don’t blame you for leaving,” Hawk added. “I blamed myself.”

She shook her head. “I should have reached out. Tried to understand. I didn’t know how bad it was.”

Hawk swallowed hard. His voice was barely above a whisper.

“I never stopped caring about you. Even when it hurt.”

Her breath caught.

Silence stretched between them—heavy, honest, years overdue.

Finally, Hawk tipped his chin toward his truck.

“You need a ride?” he asked. “Anywhere. Doesn’t matter where.”

Piper let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Me neither,” he said. “But I know this isn’t the end of us.”

Her pulse hammered. “Okay. Take me with you.”

Hawk opened the passenger door and helped her inside.

They didn’t look back at the barn glowing behind them. Didn’t look back at the guests or the ruined reception. Didn’t look back at Brody. Didn’t look back at the life Piper was finally leaving behind.

They just drove—two people unsure of what came next, but certain they weren’t finished with one another yet.