My heart swelled the way it always did when I listened to this part of the play.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream was one of my all-time favorites. I’d read it countless times, watched several film adaptations, seen the play in at least ten countries in four languages, and still I loved it.

Currently I was sitting in the old town library with a host of other literature lovers, appreciating the reading conducted by two of the actors who were going to be starring in the upcoming production at the local theater. I actually put the date on my calendar so I’d remember to attend.

It was enjoyable, definitely enjoyable, but I wasn’t actually here to enjoy the reading. I was on a mission.

Sally sat with her assistant in the front row. I was in the back. This was my attempt to get to speak to her—one on one, woman to woman, work aside.

It was my last attempt to save my job, my assignment, my career.

I’d taken the previous day to think about what I was going to do. I’d still avoided talking to Perry, too. I had actually avoided him like the plague, and I’d enlisted Noah’s help to do some snooping around.

This mission of sorts had not, however, been my idea. It was inspired by my truly sexy next-door neighbor who I totally couldn’t get out of my head.

It was crazy. I should have been more freaked out about my job, but I’d spent the time replaying that kiss in my mind.

Both kisses.

God, I was thinking about it again. As I sat there staring ahead at the actors, I was thinking about Ryan and his lips, that hard body I wanted to run my hands all over and explore.

The thought made my nipples tighten and my stomach do somersaults.

A day and a half had passed since I’d last seen him. I’d even seen Aria the night before and had contemplated going over to see him but had known it would look weird. Besides, I didn’t want to suddenly appear like I was more interested in her father and not her.

The next day would be two weeks since I’d arrived here, and already I’d gone crazy over a man—the same man who’d thought I was on drugs and had riled me up the wrong way days after my arrival.

I blinked so I could focus.

The audience cheered as the actors gave their closing remarks and invited everyone to attend the play, which would open in two weeks. I thought it would be cool to take Aria if Ryan didn’t mind. Somehow I didn’t think he would.

People started getting up. Some milled over to the actors to get their autographs while others who already had autographs took copies of the flyers that were on the little table by a grand mahogany shelf that contained all of Shakespeare’s works.

I would have to put getting autographs and grabbing a flyer on my to-do list because Sally got up and was heading through the door to the left that led out to the children’s library.

I thought she’d leave through the exit that was nearer to me. Then she would have seen me like I hoped.

I grabbed my bag and dashed, catching up with her before she got to the elevator. It was her assistant who saw me first and alerted her.

The heavy scowl on Sally’s face when she turned and saw me made my heart sink, but I brought the mission to the front of my mind.

The mission was this: Be myself. Be me. That was it.

I wasn’t going to be the Brooke who worked for People Magazine and needed this assignment as a stepping stone up the career ladder. I wasn’t going to be Brooke who bent over backward to be professional at all costs.

I was going to be downright dirty, say whatever the fuck was on my mind Brooke, and I wouldn’t give a shit what she thought afterward.

The way I figured it, I already had the worst thing happen. I’d been pulled from the assignment before I’d even begun, and according to Perry’s text this morning, I really was close to losing my job.

He’d called me more times than I wanted to count, and I’d ignored each attempt. He’d sent one message, one message only stating that if I didn’t contact him by the end of the day he’d fire my ass.

That was it, and it was quite enough.

“Please tell me you aren’t following me like some kind of leech.” Sally squared off her shoulders and straightened up to glare at me.

“Oh please, do I look like I want to be attached to your ass? I just so happen to like plays too,” I replied, straightening up in the same manner she had.

Shock washed over her face in response to my tone and my words.

It wasn’t the way I wanted to address a woman who’d been such a great role model to me, but that was what she got for treating me like shit when I’d done nothing wrong.

Her assistant looked shocked too.

“Right, so you just so happened to be here at the same time as me?” She tried to regain her composure.

Of course me being here at the same time was planned, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Wasn’t everyone else?” I motioned to the people around us who were filtering out of the reading room.

She wrinkled her nose. “I suppose so. I guess I thought you may be trying to grovel your way back in on the story, which I quite bluntly told your boss I won’t conduct with you.”

“Look lady, I don’t grovel. Look at me—do I look like I need to grovel?”

Oh she did not like that one bit, and I used it to my advantage.

I cleared my throat and smiled. “Apart from being beautiful and having the world at my fingertips, I am smart. I went to Yale. I can get whatever job I want, and I can go to whatever reading I please, too.”

She looked me over. “So, grew a pair of balls overnight, huh?”

“No, this is what I’m like normally, but guess what?”

“What?” she asked with a smirk.

“I blame you.”

Sally laughed. “That is ridiculous.”

“No, you know what is ridiculous? You. You are. I must have been seven years old when I decided I wanted to be just like you. What a waste of time. What a façade and a lie.”

That completely threw her.

“What do you mean?” She blinked several times.

“You present this strong character to the world, a person women everywhere can look up to, women of all ages. Young women, young girls, older women—everyone. People admire you as a symbol of strength and hope in the face of adversity. I admired you, and you were a symbol of hope for me.” I had her just where I wanted her.

When I thought about this little plan of mine, I honestly didn’t know if it would work. I felt I could end up accelerating my demise even quicker, but it was a wild shot, a risk I thought worth taking.

Looked like it was working.

My next card would pull on my own heart much more than I wanted a stranger to know.

“My mother left me and my brother when I was ten and it devastated me. My father and my grandma were all I had left. The year after, my dad took me to the Olympics in Atlanta and I watched you carry the flag. I never forgot how you looked as you carried it, what you said. You said to be strong is to see the goal you want in sight at all times and make nothing impossible to you. I based my life off that because you said it. I became who I am today because of you, or at least who I thought you were. Damn was I ever wrong. You’re just a bitch—a bitch who decided she didn’t like me before she even gave me a chance.”

I cut my eyes at her and turned on my heel to go back the way I’d come from. That last part hit a little too close to home. It hurt more to say it now than when I’d told Ryan, probably because of all that had happened to me and the raw emotions it stirred.

“Brooke,” Sally called out before I reached the doorway.

I stopped, but I didn’t turn.

It was her who rushed up to me now.

“Wait…” She moved to face me and looked at me like she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what. “Can we go somewhere and talk? If I may appeal to the part of you that used to like me. Please…”

Mission accomplished.

I pulled in a slow steady breath and kept my gaze trained on her. I had to resist the urge to smile and tamped down the triumph that bubbled within me.

“Okay.”

We went to the little café area outside on the terrace. The minute she chose the farthest table away from everyone, I knew she was going to tell me something private, something I’d suspected but hadn’t wanted to confirm.

We sat opposite each other. I kept up my strong demeanor, never faltering, never allowing her to see just how much she’d hurt me over the last couple of weeks.

She looked me over and pressed her lips together. I took the moment to look at her too and couldn’t help but notice the paleness in her skin and…

She had no eyelashes.

God. I immediately felt like the bitch. I’d have sworn only days ago she’d had lashes. She may have looked sick, but I would have noticed if the lashes were gone then.

Her brows looked fine, so I couldn’t tell if whatever was wrong had affected them. Mine were microbladed so I would always have the outline of eyebrows shaded in if something unfortunate happened to my brows. She could have done the same.

“Can this talk be off the record? Please?”

I straightened up. “Yes, of course. It’s not like I’m here with you for an interview. I’m just here.”

She nodded and got the tense look again, like she found it difficult to speak.

I took the risk again and decided to be bold. “You’re sick again, aren’t you?” I enquired.

She nodded, slowly and thoughtfully. Then she stared right at me with sad eyes.

“The cancer came back, a small lump, this time in my lungs. I’ve been having chemotherapy. Radiation didn’t work, but chemo is helping. It’s helping a lot, but like before, it’s taking its toll on me.”

I didn’t know what to say. This was sad on another level.

What could anyone say besides sorry? When Ryan had told me his wife died of cancer, I hadn’t known what the hell to say then either.

Now Sally had it again.

“I’m truly sorry to hear that. I…truly am.”

“Thank you. Brooke, I’m not going to be able to do the marathon in July, and I really think this is it for me. My days of running are over. I don’t want this to get out, but when it does, people will pity me all over again. They’ll lose faith in me. It’ll be a joke to even compete because I won’t win.”

Winning—that was never her thing. Her victories were the result of her inner strength and her belief in herself.

“Winning isn’t everything.” I reminded her.

“I know, I do know that, but you enter a race to win, right? Look at me: I’m wearing a wig. I look like shit, and people will soon know something is wrong with me. I always wear my hair up when I run, but now I don’t have any.” A tear ran down her cheek, surprising me.

I shook my head at her. “Fuck hair, and who gives a shit what people think? You said a marathon’s a marathon whether you walk or run. What matters is that you do it.” I held her gaze.

Her lips parted and she wiped away another tear that ran down her cheek.

I sighed and thought I’d elaborate. “People will understand if you’re too sick to compete. Your fans will understand and love you whatever you decide to do. They’ll still love you whether you win or lose, because it’s never been about that with you. You got the title of ‘Most Influential Person’ for a reason. I can assure you it wasn’t because of how many medals you’ve won. It’s because of how many people you inspired to believe in themselves.” People like me.

She looked at me like she couldn’t believe what I was saying.

“Really?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m really sorry, Brooke. It wasn’t that I didn’t like you. I was just looking for an excuse not to do the exclusive.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t want to go through all the media exposure again. I don’t want to tell everyone how scared I am. I don’t want people to see me suffer like I did last time.”

“They won’t hear it from me. I’m here to do whatever you feel comfortable doing. Your private life is your own. If July comes and you don’t feel like doing the race then you don’t do it, but I can assure you there are a lot of people who can’t wait for this exclusive. Don’t rob them of that.”

She thought for a moment and nodded. “Okay, okay. Can we start over?”

“I want to say yes, but I think it’s going to take a little more than scheduling for me to come back to your house. My boss pulled me from the assignment.”

“I’ll work that out. I’m sorry again. I’m…” Her voice trailed off as she dabbed at her eyes. “I’m not a bitch, Brooke, and neither are you.” She laughed.

I chuckled and released the damn breath I’d been holding in.

“No, I’m not a bitch.” I agreed.

“We’re a different category, but people confuse us for being bitches. I was a bitch to you, though. I really was.”

Yes, she had been, but I understood why.

“Since we’re starting over, I think I can brush all that under the rug.”

Her eyes welled with tears again. “You really saw me carry the flag in Atlanta?”

I nodded. “It was the most memorable moment of my life.”

“Mine too. Oh, it was probably the very best, better than winning. It was the moment I really thought I shined.”

“You did.” She definitely had.

“Thank you for reminding me of that day, and for giving me hope. It’ll be great to work with you.”

I felt like a fifty-ton truck had been lifted off my back, and now that it had, I thought of Ryan. This had been his idea, and it worked.

I definitely had to see him and thank him.

I also definitely thought he deserved a little more than a kiss.