4. Emile

EMILE

When I walk into the Cozy Bean with a brand new laptop tucked under my arm, the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods envelops me. I'm riding a high after the team's big win today and the adrenaline still buzzes in my veins. When I started with the Nighthawks, I was so worried I wouldn't measure up to some of the players I've been admiring for years. But after our second win in as many weeks—and our first win against the Rockets—under my belt, I'm feeling like I've already begun to prove myself.

Or maybe it's just rookie luck…

I scan the room, spotting Sara at a corner table near the window, twirling a strand of her brown hair around her finger as she hunches over a newspaper. She didn't put my jersey back on, which makes me feel a weird pang of disappointment that I quickly shake off. Instead, she's wearing a cute cable-knit sweater that makes her look like she belongs in a library with her nose in a book. I don't know what it is about these nerdy types, but they get to me every time. I take a deep breath and walk over, setting the laptop down on the table in front of her.

"I come bearing gifts," I say, as she looks up, her eyes widening as she looks at the laptop in front of her.

"Emile… what's this?"

"Your new laptop." I grin, feeling mighty proud of myself that I managed to get it sorted for her so soon. "Top of the line, with all your data transferred over. You can start using it now if you like."

She runs her fingers over the sleek surface. "Oh, Emile. I... I can't accept this. It's too much."

I wave off her protest. "It's the least I could do after destroying your old one."

"But that was my fault, not yours."

"If I hadn't been looking at my cell instead of the pavement in front of me, I probably would have seen you before we collided. So let me do this for you. Please. It cost you the job you really wanted."

Sara bites her lip and looks between the laptop and me. "OK. But I'll pay you back."

"Please don't."

"No. I have to, Emile."

"Fine. You can pay half then."

"Deal," she says, a smile curving her lips as she slides the laptop closer to her and inspects it. "But now that we've come to that agreement, I realize I'll need to ask if it's OK to give you your money once I find a job?" She gestures to the newspaper spread out in front of her with the employment section open. "I'm a little broke until then."

"Take your time. I don't even want your money," I say, grabbing the chair on the other side of the table and flipping it so I can straddle it backward. "Job hunt's that bad, huh?"

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. "It's not going great. Everyone wants someone with my qualifications, but they want experience too. And if I don't find something soon, well, let's just say that my coffee drinking days are severely limited right now."

"Can you ask your dad for help?"

"Of course, but that comes with strings, and..." She trails off, shaking her head.

It's on the tip of my tongue to offer to help her out myself, but I already know what the answer will be.

I lean in closer, resting my arms on the back of the chair. "You know, my sister is probably looking for staff since her restaurant is so busy. It's not in your field, but the tips are good, and it could mean enough cash to get you through until you catch a break."

Sara sits back, considering my suggestion. "You know, that's not a bad idea. I mean, I've never been much of a waitress, but I'm sure with practice, I'll learn."

"That's the spirit! And who knows, maybe you'll discover a hidden talent for serving up gourmet jalapeno poppers."

She laughs. "I wouldn't count on it. But thank you, Emile. For the laptop, for the suggestion, and..." She gestures between us. "For being a good friend."

I feel a pang in my chest at the word 'friend'. I don't want to be her friend. I want more. "Sure. Anytime."