I Walked Away Seven Years Too Late But Right on Time novel Chapter 19

When Sophie mentioned she was flying to her next stop right after the finals on the twelfth, Gavin looked utterly devastated.

He was leaving on a business trip the next day and wouldn't be back until the afternoon of the thirteenth. Since Sophie's flight was on the morning of the thirteenth, tonight might be the last time they saw each other.

Looking at her with desperate hope, Gavin asked, "Could you push your flight back by two days? I could take you out to Zion Woods for the weekend."

Sophie laughed it off. "Do you want me to get fired?"

Seeing the pure disappointment on his face, she softened. "Dinner is on me tonight. Thank you for keeping me company these past few weeks."

And thank you for willingly being my shield.

She kept that last part to herself.

Gavin pulled out his phone and scrolled through his itinerary. "I'll try to finish up early. I'll come find you on the night of the twelfth."

Sophie panicked. "No, please don't. Your work is more important. Don't get yelled at by your boss because of me."

"Do you really hate seeing me that much?"

He stared at her intently, looking genuinely hurt.

"No, it's not that," she said, flustered. "I just don't want to owe you any more favors."

"If I come out to Seattle for work, will you see me?" he pushed.

"Absolutely. I'll give you the grand tour. I'll treat you to the best seafood chowder in town," she promised earnestly, practically swearing an oath.

"My company has a research lab in Seattle. I could request a transfer."

Sophie felt a rising wave of panic; the boy was far too intense.

"Gavin, we've known each other for ten days. I'm a deeply flawed person. I'm not worth all this."

Sensing her rising panic, Gavin flashed a brilliant, white smile. "Did I scare you? Have some sashimi to calm your nerves."

They both ducked their heads and ate, dropping the heavy conversation.

At the final game, Gwen Grayson was practically buzzing with excitement. "It's finally almost over. We are going out to celebrate tonight."

Gwen was the PR manager in charge of coordinating with the local event agencies, and she had single-handedly masterminded the tournament's logistics.

They had been working side-by-side since the first stop in New York, and after a month of traveling together, they had grown incredibly close.

They shared a hotel room, and some nights they would stay up chatting.

Gwen was the same age as Sophie but far more mature and resilient, carrying herself with a bold, fiery confidence. In her own words, she had figured life out.

Two years ago, she had divorced her husband.

When Sophie had first joined the company, she had overheard the marketing guys gossiping about it.

The story went that Gwen had come home early from a business trip and caught her husband in bed with another woman. In a blind rage, she had smashed everything in the house, and the two had ended up in a massive physical altercation.

They then spent three brutal months fighting over their assets.

He stared deeply at Sophie, but when Gwen waved enthusiastically at him, he offered a polite nod and a faint smile in return.

"There's no way he's here for me, right?"

Gwen covered her mouth, looking positively thrilled.

Luke hated team sports. He preferred squash and swimming, and almost always went alone, only occasionally bringing Sophie along.

He would play tennis or golf with clients, dragging Sophie out to keep them company, but she knew he despised every second of it.

She wasn't delusional enough to think he was there for her, but she highly doubted he was there for Gwen either.

He was likely only there because there were major corporate partners at the alumni event he wanted to network with.

Luke didn't expend that kind of effort on women.

Sophie reverted to her usual strategy: playing the ostrich. She buried her face in the paperwork, aggressively reviewing the logistics for the next city.

When the first quarter ended, Gwen went to chat up the players on the bench. Seeing Sophie glued to her chair, she dragged her up.

"How are you ever going to survive in sales with that attitude? Half the guys on that court are CEOs or executives with serious buying power. You have to network to get deals," Gwen scolded as she pulled her along.

Sophie gave a sheepish smile and accepted the critique. "You're totally right. I'll do better."

"Stop talking and start doing. See number nine? He's Mr. Weaver, the logistics manager for a massive corporation with tens of thousands of employees. Think about the commission if he orders their holiday gifts from us. You skipped the dinner last time, so get over there, introduce yourself, and make an impression. Tonight, you're drinking with him."