Good-Byes Suck

 

The day I leave for LA arrives.

This is it, another sad good-bye. Only this one is harder than any before because I’ve fallen more in love with Brent.

There are tears, lots of tears, and promises to Facetime every single day. It won’t be the same, though.

Damn it all to hell! I want to stay here with Brent. I don’t want to go live near—or God forbid, with—some problem actor in LA. But I need my job. I refuse to become one of those player girlfriends or wives who do nothing but gossip, shop, and stir up drama.

Yeah, I’ve watched WAGS.

And hell no, that’s so not me.

On the way to the airport, I notice Brent is exceptionally quiet. So, clearing my throat, I try to draw him into a conversation.

“Maybe I won’t have to stay all that long in California.”

I’m throwing something out, however lame, to maybe make this easier for both of us.

But Brent’s not buying it. “You stayed with me, under contract, for four months,” he replies. “And it would’ve been longer had I not fucked up.”

I place a hand on his hard thigh, and he hits the gas. He’s frustrated, wound up.

“Brent, please.” I blow out a breath. “Don’t kill us on the way there, okay?”

“Sorry, babe.” He slows down.

Still, even going the speed limit we reach the exit ramp leading to the airport way too soon. “I’m going to park and come in with you,” Brent suddenly declares.

We discussed it before we left and agreed that dropping me off at the curb would make this easier. But, really, nothing is going to do that.

Squeezing his thigh, I tell him, “Good. I want you with me till the last possible second.”

Inside the terminal, Brent uses his charm and convinces the ticketing agent to give him a pass to allow him to go to the gate with me. On the way there he seems distracted again, like something is weighing on his mind. I’d chalk it up to him being upset about me leaving, but it seems the phone in his hand is what’s occupying him. He keeps checking it every couple of minutes.

I look over at him as we walk and raise a questioning brow. “Are you waiting for an important call or something?”

He looks guilty, even as he insists, “Um, no.”

I stop and make him look at me. “Hey, you don’t have some former puck bunny lined up to meet you after I’m gone, do you?”

I’m kidding—sort of—but Brent doesn’t find it funny. “That’s not even remotely amusing, Aubrey,” he tells me.

Trying not to be overly emotional, I admit, “I’m making stupid jokes ’cause I don’t want to leave you.” I lean my forehead against his chest. “Maybe I should just quit.”

Wrapping his arms around me, he says, “But you love your job.”

Stepping back, I stare up at him like he’s nuts. “I do not love my job. I like working, yes, but I haven’t loved this job for a long time now. The only fun times I’ve had in the past year were the days I spent with you.”

“Aw, babe, that’s sweet of you to say.”

He tries to pull me in for another hug, but I place a hand on his chest. “No, wait. You know what?” I let go of Brent and start rummaging through my carry-on bag, searching for my phone. “I’m calling Mr. Delahunty right now. I’m handing in my resignation. I haven’t been happy working this position in ages. I even remember bitching about it to Lainey, before my work assignment with you even started. I’m done, Brent. I’ll worry about finding something else later, but I’m making sure, first, that it’s something that’ll make me happy, something that’ll make us both happy.”

He starts to reply, but his own cell goes off, blaring out the lyrics to KC and the Sunshine Band’s song “Don’t Go.”

“Oh my God, I love that song,” I say as I nod along to the beat. “It’s such a classic.”

“It is,” he agrees. “And I remembered you saying once that you loved it. Anyway”—he blows out a breath—“it seemed particularly fitting for today. I downloaded the ringtone last night.”

“Aww, Brent,” I murmur.

I’d love to listen to the song all day, but Brent silences KC and the boys when he answers the call.

When he steps away so I can’t hear, I can’t help but wonder, Why the secrecy?

After another few minutes pass, I’m all like, Crap, I hope he doesn’t really have a puck bunny lined up.

I know I’m being silly, so I squash that thought. Still, it’s a little worrisome when Brent moves farther away and becomes more deeply engrossed with whomever he’s talking to.

When he ends the call, he slides the phone back into his jean’s pocket and walks back over to me, beaming. “What’s that smile for?” I ask, wary.

He grabs me up in his strong, capable arms and says, “Make that call to your boss, babe. You already have another job lined up.”

“Huh?”

I peer up at him. He’s never looked as happy, or as handsome, as he does right now.

God, how did I get so lucky?

I quickly get back to the point. “What do you mean I have another job lined up?”

“Well,” he begins, “I spoke with Dolby a few days ago. I asked him about giving you a permanent job with the team, some kind of consulting position, but more office-based than the one you had with me. The guys love you, Aubrey, you know that. And Dolby knows it too. You’d be a good fit with the organization.”

“What are you getting at, Brent?”

“Well, that was Dolby on the phone just now. He met with ownership earlier today and there’s an offer on the table for you. If you want it, that is.”

“What do you mean ‘if I want it’? You bet your hot ass I do.”

I snuggle in closer, and he murmurs in my hair, “Hot ass, eh?”

Leaning back, I pretend to push him away. “Stop. You know how I feel about you.”

“I do, Aubrey. I do.”

He looks content, but then, as he’s peering down at me, his brow suddenly creases with worry.

“Hey, you’re not mad I worked on this without talking to you first, are you? I just didn’t want to get your hopes up unnecessarily. But I probably should’ve cleared it with you first.”

Is he crazy? “Are you crazy?” I say. “I completely understand the need for secrecy on this one. But the bottom line is I’m glad you did whatever you did to get this thing rolling. And for the record, I’m the exact opposite of mad. I’m grateful and happy.”

And with that, I make the call to my boss. Since there’s no point in flying to LA for two weeks, my resignation is accepted as effective immediately.

I can’t wait to start my new job…with my new guy…and my new life.