Free Your Big Break by Johanna Edwards Page B

want you to know that I’ll always love you.
    But people change, and because they don’t change together, they drift. . . .
    Â 
I’ve just finished sealing the letter in an envelope when the phone rings. I check the caller ID. It’s my brother’s cell phone. Sean never calls me at work. I can’t imagine what he wants.
    I pick up the receiver. “Hello?”
    â€œHey, Dani, are you busy?” he asks.
    â€œNot really. What’s up?” I tuck the Dear Brady letter into my purse.
    â€œI just got off the phone with Dad.”
    â€œYou did?” My heartbeat quickens.
    â€œYeah, he called me from work and—”
    â€œAre you sure he was calling from work?” I interrupt.
    â€œI guess so, why?”
    â€œWhat number showed up on the caller ID?”
    â€œI don’t know. I think it was his cell phone.”
    Aha! His cell phone. Jesus. It’s four o’clock in the afternoon. Dad—excuse me, Father —probably ducks out of the office every day for a mid-afternoon romp with his mistress.
    â€œHe wanted me to let you know dinner’s canceled next Thursday.”
    â€œCanceled? Oh my God!” I exclaim, my voice catching in my throat. “Did he say why it’s canceled?”
    â€œYeah. He has to work really late every night for the next couple of weeks. Apparently, he’s super-swamped at work.”
    Well, that’s that. He’s definitely having an affair . I’m one hundred percent sure of it now. “This is a nightmare,” I whisper, blinking back tears.
    Sean laughs. “Hey, chill out. We’re free and clear, no family obligations. Why are you being so melodramatic?”
    â€œSean, there’s something I want to talk to you about,” I begin, then stop. Should I tell him? Can he handle it? I decide the answer to both questions is yes. “It’s personal.”
    â€œFire away.”
    â€œNot over the phone. Can you meet me for a late lunch?”
    He’s quiet for a minute. “Not today. My shift starts at Blockbuster in twenty minutes.”
    â€œTomorrow?”
    â€œI guess.” He sounds annoyed. “What’s this about, Dani?”
    I let out a sigh. “It’s a long, complicated story.”
    â€œGreat,” he says sarcastically. “My favorite kind.”
    We make plans to meet at Chili’s at Copley Place at one o’clock.
    Sean and I don’t always see eye to eye on things, but he’s my brother and I love him. And I know he’ll want to do whatever he can to keep our family together. Telling him about Gretchen is going to be tough, but we’ll talk it over, we’ll cry, and then we’ll figure out what to do. Together.
    Now I just have to make it through tonight.
    Â 
 
The Barnes & Noble poetry workshop is packed—who knew there were so many wayward poets in Boston? I pull out the wallet-sized photo that Erin gave me and scan the crowd for Brady Simms. I feel like a hitman, zeroing in on my target. Or should I say hit woman ? Either way, Brady’s a marked man. Breaking up with strangers is a cumbersome task. We’ve never met, yet I know this giant secret about Brady’s life—and all the ways it’s about to crumble. And he has no idea. I search the sea of faces but don’t spot anyone who resembles Brady. Oh, well . I hope I’ll be able to locate him once the workshop starts. I slip into a seat near the back as the crowd continues to swell.
    At eight o’clock on the dot, a short, stocky woman walks up to the front of the room and introduces herself. “I’m Sal, and I’ll be your moderator for tonight.” She scans the room and smiles. “Welcome back, returning poets and poetesses! And a big hello to all our fresh-faced pen-pushers.”
    Fresh-faced pen-pushers?
    â€œAs usual, we’ll begin with a few short readings, then we’ll open up the floor for comments,” Sal