Page 35 of Love Unwritten
“And did you schedule an appointment to get them taken out?”
“I did.”
“Good. Hopefully it heals before his trip.”
“About that…” I hesitate for a moment and don’t hear anything on her end, so I ask, “Are you there?”
“Huh? Yeah?”
“Actually, on second thought, I’d rather have this conversation in person.”
“No.”
“Ell—”
She doesn’t let me finish. “I’m glad Nico is okay and all, but I’m not interested in talking.”
“What if it means getting your job back?”
She goes silent.
“Eleanor?” I ask before checking if the call dropped.
“I’m not working for you again.”
“Not even if I apologize for firing you the way I did?”
“Not even then.”
“Why not?”
Her sigh doesn’t bode well for me. “Listen. Although I don’t agree with how you fired me, you had every right to do so. I might not be a parent, but I can only imagine how I would react if my kid got hurt because of someone else.”
I take a few moments to process her statement. While I didn’t expect her to acknowledge my feelings of overprotectiveness, I’m grateful she did because I feel slightly less guilty for my reaction.
She continues, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for keeping the secret from you. I know I should have told you, and while I don’t regret not breaking Nico’s trust, I do wish it hadn’t affected the little trust you gave me in the process.”
She hangs up, leaving me to spend the rest of my night contemplating how the hell I’m going to convince her to come back.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ellie
“No. We had a deal.” I dig my heels into the grass. The afternoon sun beats down on Willow and me, making me sweat through my leggings already after just getting out of the car.
Willow links our elbows together and steers me toward the entrance of the Park Promenade, where a crowd is forming to purchase tickets to today’s softball fundraiser game. When word got around about who was playing against Lorenzo’s team, people showed up early to claim bleacher seats and the best patches of grass. Some went out of their way to bring their own chairs, beer, and food, turning the park into their own tailgate party.
Everyone knows about Julian Lopez’s dislike of Lorenzo Vittori, and although the two seemed to have put their differences aside for now, the rest of town hasn’t gotten the memo. They’re already placing bets on who will throw a punch first.
Willow pulls me toward the dugout. “Come on. I promised Lorenzo and our team that we wouldn’t let them down.”
“You told me I would be observing the game from the bleachers!” Her insisting on me wearing a Vittori team T-shirt makes so much more sense now.
Her face flushes. “One of our players got stuck in traffic on their way back from Detroit, so you’re subbing until they get here.”
“Willow.”
Her engagement ring glints as she throws her hands in the air. “It’ll be fun!”