28. Marissa

CHAPTER 28

MARISSA

" O kay, so this is how we transfer calls," Fran explains, her fingers dancing over the phone's buttons with practiced ease.

I watch as she demonstrates, trying to keep my focus on the task at hand.

"Got it," I say with a smile plastered on my face, though the thought of spending my days managing calls for realty agents is far from exciting.

A job is a job, though, and I know I need to be grateful for the opportunity. Ria was nice enough to refer me, and her boss was nice enough to give me a chance.

And now Fran, who is moving on from manning the front desk to another position at the company, is nice enough to give me training. I should be grateful for all of these wonderful people.

Fran gives a satisfied nod, her bright red hair bobbing with the motion. "Great, let's move on to organizing property viewings."

I nod, my mind miles away. My gaze shifts to the window, where the city sprawls out beyond the glass, alive with movement and energy. It's a stark contrast to the mundane reality inside this office. All I can think about is Charlie, about the last time I saw him and all the things I said.

The more I think about it, the more I worry I made a terrible mistake. The kind that can never be fixed.

"Marissa?" Fran's voice snaps me back to reality.

I blink, forcing myself to look at her. "Yes, sorry."

Fran merely smiles, patient and kind.

"Remember, always take detailed messages and make sure you're directing them to the right agent," Fran adds, handing me a chart with everyone's extension numbers.

As I nod my head in understanding, my thoughts drift back to my days as a sports agent.

I can still feel the rush of adrenaline, the excitement of closing deals, and the thrill of traveling around the country with Charlie by my side. My heart aches as I think about him; he was so much more than just my client. We shared a unique connection that made every meeting an adventure.

"Marissa? Are you still with me?" Fran's voice snaps me back to the present, and I realize I've been lost in thought. Again.

"Sorry, Fran. I'm listening," I apologize, trying to shake off the memories of the life I used to have.

I know I was harsh with Charlie, pushing him away when he needed me most. The guilt weighs heavy on my heart, but I can't help but feel like it's too late to make amends.

"All right. Let's move on to organizing the emails," Fran says.

I dutifully follow her instructions, but of course I'm still thinking about Charlie.

I miss him. More than I care to admit. But there's nothing I can do now. All I can do is try to move forward and make the best of this new job, even if my heart longs for the life I used to have.

"Think you can handle it?" Fran asks.

I force a smile. "I can. Thanks, Fran."

She heads into the back offices, and I take a seat in my new chair, at my new desk. At my new life.

Letting out a breath, I place my hands on the desk. There's nothing to do now but wait.

The phone on my desk suddenly rings, jolting me out of my reverie. I reach for it, but then notice the screen is dark.

It's my cellphone that's ringing.

"Oh, shoot." I reach into my purse to turn it off.

But then I see the name flashing across its screen, and my heart skips a beat.

Charlie.

A wave of anxiety washes over me. Why would he be calling after I pushed him away?

"Hello?" I answer hesitantly.

"Marissa? It's Charlie," his familiar voice comes through the line, sending a shiver down my spine. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed hearing him speak.

"I know," I say. "I didn't delete your number."

"Please don't hang up," he says, hurried. "Please hear me out."

His plea is a jab to the gut. "I wasn't planning on hanging up," I murmur.

"Oh. Good."

I clear my throat. "So… what can I do for you?" I wince at how professional I sound.

It's stupid. After everything we shared, after the regrets I have, I don't need to speak to him like that. And yet I can't seem to help it. I'm afraid. Afraid of even showing how much I miss him.

"Look, I know this might seem out of the blue, but I have a business proposition for you," he says, sounding slightly nervous.

My pulse quickens, curiosity piqued. I glance around the office, a little worried about being busted taking a personal call on my first day, but also not caring. There's very little I wouldn't risk at this point for a conversation with Charlie, and the fact that he's talking business has me even more interested.

"Go on," I encourage him, leaning forward in my chair.

"Remember that meeting we had with the San Antonio team?" he asks. I nod, even though he can't see me, memories of that day flooding my mind.

"Of course." I remember every meeting, every day and night with Charlie, like they just happened.

"Well, they just called me," he continues, his voice growing excited. "They loved you, Marissa. They want to work with you, not the agency that sent you. Can you believe it?"

I sit back in my chair, stunned by his words. The possibility of working as a sports agent again, of returning to the dream life that was only just getting off the ground before it crashed and burned, is overwhelming. A flicker of hope begins to burn within me.

"Charlie, are you serious?" I ask, my voice trembling with emotion.

"Dead serious," he replies. "There's more, too. I told them that our relationship was fake, that it became real, and that Isaac didn't like that."

My jaw drops. "Why would you do that?"

"Because it's the truth," he says simply, a hint of defiance creeping into his tone. "Because I'm done hiding. And because I thought maybe you might be too."

My heart thumps erratically as I process his words. Could this really be my chance? My chance to escape Isaac's manipulation and finally get the recognition I deserve?

"But what about Isaac?" I question, remembering my fearsome boss and his iron grip on my career.

"Forget Isaac," Charlie commands, the intensity in his voice flooding through the line. "This is about us, Marissa. About you and your talents. You've been under his thumb for far too long. San Antonio doesn't care about him. Let him talk all the shit he wants."

His words spark a fire in me that I haven't felt since before all this mess with Isaac began. I realize that Charlie is right. Isaac can say whatever he wants, but if I can prove myself as an agent, that will speak volumes more than any words ever could.

I'm still confused, though. Does Charlie really need me? After how I kicked him out of my apartment, I'm shocked he wants to work with me.

Maybe the San Antonio team won't see him without a rep. That makes sense. They don't want to take the time to explain everything to him and work through the details of any deals.

"So, what do you say?" Charlie asks. "Are you up for it?"

My eyes dart around the dull, beige walls of the realty office, and I know without a doubt that I crave the excitement and passion that working with Charlie and the San Antonio team would bring.

He goes on. "I've got two tickets booked for this afternoon to San Antonio. Everyone will be in this meeting. All the reps. All the team owners. It's happening tonight."

"Tonight?" My heart races at the thought of seeing him again, and I grip the edge of my desk to steady myself. "Charlie, that's so soon."

"Listen, I know it's short notice," he replies, "but they want to move fast. I need you there, Marissa. As my agent."

A heavy silence falls between us as I process his words. The prospect of working together again sends a thrill down my spine, but I can't ignore the ache in my chest at his insistence on keeping things strictly professional.

"Charlie, I—" I begin, but he cuts me off.

"Before you answer," he says, voice firm, "I want you to know I'm not asking for anything personal. You made it crystal clear how you feel about our relationship. This is just business, okay?"

His words sting, but they're fair. I was too harsh with him, pushing him away when all he had done was try to support me. But deep down, I long to be more than just his agent. I want to mend our broken connection.

This isn't the time to bring that up, though. Hell, I don't know if it will ever be the time. For all I know, Charlie has already moved on.

For all I know, he has a new woman in his bed.

The thought hits me hard, like a sledgehammer to the gut. I swallow down the painful lump forming in my throat.

"Marissa?" Charlie's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "Are you okay?"

I force a smile to my face, even though he can't see me. "Yeah, I'm good."

The line is silent. He's waiting for me to take the lead.

"Okay," I say finally, swallowing my pride. "I'll do it. I'll be your agent, Charlie. And I promise, I'll be the best damn agent you've ever had."

"Thank you, Marissa," he replies, his tone softening slightly. "I appreciate it. I'll see you at the airport, then. I'll text you the info now."

"See you there." With those final words, we hang up, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

As I stare at the phone in my hand, I wonder if I've made the right decision. But one thing is certain — I'll give this opportunity everything I've got, not just as Charlie's agent, but as someone who genuinely cares for him. And maybe, just maybe, that will be enough to repair the damage I've done.