Page 18 of Wild

She looks at the attorney's business card next to the contract and settles onto the chaise longue with her legs stretched out, turning the offer over in her mind. This is exactly the kind of thing you share with a friend or someone close—someone outside the situation whose perspective might help her figure out whether saying yes is a crazy idea or an actual chance to give her life some direction, because right now, Erin would say it has none.

Her social life is essentially nonexistent, aside from the occasional hookup through a dating app. She's spent most of her life taking care of other people: first her sister, then her sister and her mother, because her mom couldn't handle work and a teenage girl who never made things easy. Then just her mother, when she got sick—nearly three years giving everything to her, and when she died, Erin realized she had nothing and no one, because her sister Brooke gives her about as much back as a houseplant does.

She decides to call her anyway, because she knows Brooke is awake—probably just getting off her bar shift or walking in the door of the expensive apartment she can't afford.

"Hey," Brooke answers, slightly out of breath. "I'm on my way home, what's up?"

Erin lets out a slow breath, wondering if the day will ever come when her sister asks how she's doing.

"Nothing, it's just—I got offered a pretty interesting job yesterday, but I'm not sure what to do," Erin says. "I'd have to leave my position for a few months to—"

"Does it pay well?" Brooke cuts in.

Erin runs a hand through her hair and her fingers curl before she realizes it, gripping hard enough that she lets out a small sound of pain.

"Yeah, the pay is really good."

"Then take it. Do you need anything else? I'm in a rush—I'm meeting Senna."

Erin doesn't answer right away. She pulls the phone from her ear and stares at the screen, still twisting the lock of hair between her fingers.

"No, I don't need anything, Brooke. Have fun. Talk soon."

"Okay, bye."

Her sister hangs up. Erin sets the phone on a cushion and looks at her own hands. She decides that on her right hand she'll curl a finger for every reason she finds to say yes—to take the offer and leave New York for four months—and on her left, a finger for every reason not to. Two minutes later, every finger on her right hand is closed and her left hand is wide open, because she has plenty of reasons to take the leap, and not a single one to hold back. Not even her sister.

At eight fifteen in the morning, Erin is sitting at Vanis across from Barry, who's looking at her like she's grown a second head. Esteban brings them coffee—two chocolate donuts for her and four for him—and walks away with a smile aimed at Erin.

"What are we doing here, Dooley?" Barry finally asks, picking up his first donut and fitting most of it into his mouth at once.

Erin feels a sudden flash of embarrassment, because she and Barry have never met up outside of work, but she needed to share this with someone who'd actually be happy for her, and somewhere between tossing and turning the night before—without ever falling asleep—she'd realized that Barry is the closest thing to a friend she has.

"I'm sorry," she says, wrapping both hands around her coffee cup. "I know we're not exactly friends, but something happened yesterday and I needed to talk to someone."

Barry, who had already picked up his second donut with his mouth halfway open, sets it back on the plate and looks at her steadily. He's always thought of her as a solitary woman and never dared to ask whether it was by choice or just the way her life had gone—for reasons he doesn't know—but having it confirmed like this hits him hard, because he genuinely cares about her, and he never imagined that Dr. Dooley could feel so alone that she'd have to turn to a coworker she picks up occasional shifts with just to have someone to talk to.

"Damn, Dooley, that's one of the saddest and sweetest things anyone's ever said to me."

She takes a breath, mortified and a little ashamed, but feels a wave of relief when he stretches his big arm across the table and squeezes her hand.

"I'm your guy. It's an honor." Erin laughs. "Now tell me—what do you need to talk about?"

Erin chews a piece of donut and wipes her mouth before she speaks.

"Mia Wilder's label offered me full medical coverage for the tour yesterday. Four months looking after her exclusively, a salary four times what I'm making now, and they handle my leave of absence at the hospital and hold my spot at the events company."

"Jesus, Erin," Barry says, making her laugh.

"Yeah…"

"So what are you going to do?" he asks, leaning back in his chair with his third donut between his fingers. "I mean, it's a good opportunity, right?"

"You think?" she says.

Barry sits back up and finishes chewing.

"Okay, are you telling me this because you want my opinion, or because you've already made up your mind?"