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 ready for the big day smelled of cedar and polished floors, the wagon-wheel chandeliers twinkling over the rustic reception hall.

One night when the couple were chatting about the rehearsal dinner, which had been edited back to a cocktail hour at a local pub, Benny asked Piper to reach out to Hawk to appease his boss's boss, Mr. Phil Frank, who heard the family had a loose affiliation with the largest construction logistics company CEO of the year. At this point Piper assumed Hawk had blocked her too. Seeing no harm in it, and certainly expecting nothing to come of it, she sent a mass email out with Hawk’s old address included so as to keep the peace.

Piper, as maid of honor, she had her hands full with the endless preparations for the big day. Her weeks leading up to the main event involved wrangling guests, arranging bouquets and centerpieces, picking up anything from bobby pins to ribbons, looking after ring boxes, toddlers, and Mr. Frank’s fragile ego. That was why she was so caught off guard when at the rehearsal dinner 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, expression 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. Mostly gone, but still haunting him.

Dena elbowed Piper. “Wedding ring mark. Be careful.” She scoffed at the awkwardness of it all. “Don’t,” Piper muttered, swallowing nerves.

She hadn’t spoken to Hawk since the Texas disaster—where he’d cried into his shirt, when he'd lost her respect. 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. So she did what she always did, which was to carry on.

Brody arrived late, rumpled, and complaining. He had conveniently avoided being useful during every stage of the work up to that moment. By then Hawk had pulled Piper aside to catch up on what was new. Brody, who typically was one to not bother to acknowledge Piper whenever possible decided when he saw Hawk talking to her, to 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 as he rushed over. “Pip says you two go way back.”

Piper nearly inhaled the olive from the Manhattan she was sipping, but composed herself enough to introduce the two. Hawk’s eyes flickered with something—something she was afraid to name. Hawk excused himself to which Piper followed up with him later, in the kitchen. There she asked, “What brings you all the way up here?” Hawk shrugged. “I was around.” Piper knew that was unlikely.

On the drive with her mother to the family home after the rehearsal dinner had finally ended, Smol and the other kids were asleep in the back of the car. Sofie had already gone back with Benny. The night was quietly coming to a close. Dena asked Piper how she was doing. Piper admitted that seeing Hawk, knocked something loose inside her. Dena, smiled, paused and said, "Brody went back to your apartment without dropping off the thank you notes he was supposed to pick up. I'd be cross, but Benny had already done it for him. I guess we're all used to how Brody is by now." Piper knowing what her mother meant without having to say it directly, nodded.

The next day, the wedding began beautifully. Sofie glowed. Benny sobbed uncontrollably through his vows. The guests cheered.

But the reception? That’s where everything unraveled. Brody, hadn’t bothered to come for the ceremony. When he did arrive he was still drunk from the night before. He was champagne-wobbling and overconfident. The family tried to distance themselves from him, by giving him fools errands like helping in the parking lot. It still didn't stop him from grabbing 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!” As he spoke, 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. Holding out his hand. Smirked like he was doing her a favor.

The room froze. Benny's mother mumbled something in indignation.

Across the hall, Hawk’s expression hardened. He had kept to himself all day. Piper had hardly noticed him. Yet just then, their eyes met. Something dimmed in his eyes. Sofie, behind the cake table, waved frantically—trying to signal to make Brody 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 lmsat back, 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 at all, 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, it was locked.

Collecting herself, she realized her purse was still inside the venue.

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

A tear slipped free. Then another. A familiar voice asked, “Piper?” to which 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?” He asked. “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 don’t have 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 toxic for 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.