“I’m calling for Brooke Griffiths. I hope this is the right number. I had my P.A. track you down. My name is Andrew Walters, and my daughter, Sarah, follows you online. She’s a massive fan, and she showed me your post from earlier today. I’d like to talk to you about a sponsorship. My number is 027-475-3298. Call me anytime. If I don’t answer, leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon. This is a priority for me.”
A click sounded and the message ended.
“Oh. My. God.” Brooke spun in a circle, waving her hands in the air. “Bex, get over here!”
Her friend looked up from where she was sketching on a canvas by the window. “What is it?”
“Gah.” Brooke raced over to her, discovering newfound energy, and thrust the phone forward. “Listen to this.”
She watched Bex’s face while the message played, a smile gradually easing across her features. When it ended, Bex grabbed her and hugged her tight. “Congratulations! When are you going to call him back? You should do it now. Seriously, call him now, Brookie.”
Brooke’s stomach somersaulted. “What do I say? I’ve never done this before. What if I mess it up?” She was blathering, but she couldn’t seem to help it. “I haven’t done anything to earn a sponsorship. What if—”
“No.” Bex pressed a finger to Brooke’s lips, smooshing them shut. “No more ‘what ifs.’ You’re a kickass woman and you haven’t been given a damn thing you didn’t earn, so you call that man back and negotiate like the boss bitch I know you are.”
Thank God for girlfriends. “You’re the best.”
“And don’t you forget it.” She made a “hurry up” gesture and Brooke selected his number from her call log, holding her breath while the phone rang, a cowardly part of her soul hoping she could leave a message and sort out the whole sponsorship without talking to anyone. No such luck. Andrew Walters came on the line almost immediately.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” Brooke said, wincing at her falsetto tone. “Andrew? This is Brooke. Brooke Griffiths. I’m returning your call.”
Could she be any less professional?
“Brooke,” he said. “I’m glad you called me back.”
Her shoulders sagged with relief. Maybe it was silly, but she’d feared it was all a misunderstanding. There were a lot of Brookes in the world. Probably several of whom had blogs.
“My daughter, Sarah, is thirteen,” he continued. “She has a heart condition that keeps her inside most of the time, but she reads your blog every day and you inspire her. Seeing someone who’s been through the same things as her, but who is getting out there and experiencing life, gives her hope that one day she’ll be able to do the same.”
Tears welled in Brooke’s eyes and she sniffled. Bex mouthed, “Are you okay?”
She nodded and swiped her towel across her face. She’d always hoped she was helping people, but hearing the words… she’d never imagined how good that would feel.
“Thank you. I’m so glad to hear that.”
“I think it’s important for you to know,” he told her. “I want to make sure money doesn’t hold you back from accomplishing your goals, because you’ve got the hopes of girls like Sarah riding on your shoulders. Easing the financial burden is the least I can do. My law firm, Howard & Walters, will gladly cover any travel costs, to a reasonable degree. We can discuss the details later.”
“That sounds wonderful, thank you so much.” If this was a dream, she prayed it would never end. “Are you really sure?”
Why had she asked that?
“I’m one hundred percent certain.”
Oh, my God. She was going to Everest. She was going to Everest.
She squealed.
She whooped.
She laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Is this actually happening?” she whispered, to no one in particular.
“It’s happening,” Andrew said. “I’m completely serious.”
She calmly laid the phone down, did a happy dance, her limbs flailing wildly, then picked it back up, took a deep breath and said, “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
He chuckled. “I have a better idea than most. You’re very welcome, Brooke. I’m grateful to you. Without you blazing the trail and showing her what’s possible, Sarah wouldn’t be in a good place right now. So as your sponsor, I’m officially telling you that you’re not allowed to give up. You need to do this, for her sake as much as your own.”
“I will,” she agreed, sobering. “Unless my body gives out on me, I’ll get there.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear.”
Bex gave her two thumbs up, and a broad grin. Brooke slung an arm around her and squeezed, keeping the phone to her ear with her other hand. “I’m doing everything I can to improve my fitness,” she told Andrew. “I’m also signing up for a mud run challenge in a month’s time to test my progress.”
“Have you considered inviting your followers to come and watch you?” he asked.
“No, I haven’t.” She considered it now. What would it feel like to have people in the audience who were pinning their hopes and dreams on her, like she was some kind of symbol? She swallowed. The prospect terrified her. She’d be carrying the weight of her readers’ expectations. She supposed it might motivate her. If they traveled to watch, she couldn’t fail. Couldn’t let them down.
“You know what?” she said slowly. “That’s a brilliant idea. I’ll issue an invitation tonight.”
“Great. Sarah and I will come, and I insist on taking you out for dinner afterward to celebrate and discuss the terms of the sponsorship. She’s dying to meet you.”
A dozen knots tightened in Brooke’s stomach. She hoped the girl wouldn’t be disappointed. Brooke wasn’t a gorgeous Instagram celebrity or a fierce athlete. She was just a girl stumbling through life, trying to find her way.
“I’d love to meet her, too.”
“Then it’s sorted. You post the details online, and we’ll be there. Take care, Brooke.”
“Bye.” The call ended and she stared at her phone, dazed. Had that really happened?
“I’m so happy for you,” Bex said. “And yes, that really happened.”
She must have spoken out loud. Then something else struck her. “I have to tell Jack.”
She shoved her gym gear into her bag, slung it over her shoulder and raced down the stairs, where she nearly crashed into a man coming the other way. She scooted around him and dashed across the square to Seafaring Adventures. When she’d covered half the distance, she spotted him, the sunlight gleaming off his dark hair, a hand on one hip, his t-shirt pulled tight across his chest. He saw her coming, but didn’t wave, and that was her first inkling something was off.
When he shifted, the glare from the sun blinded her and she had to squint, then she came to an abrupt halt. Standing beside him, so close that only a sliver of space separated their bodies, was a tanned, athletic brunette. Brooke’s brain stopped functioning, and she stared.
Then, as rapidly as her mind had fallen silent, a million questions popped into it.