Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 94903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
He walks backward toward his truck, his hair bouncing with every step. “Suit yourself.”
“Goodbye, Gav.”
I head to my car, leaving him behind me.
If only his words would stay back there too.
Chapter Eighteen
Megan
I hit the speakerphone button. “Hello?”
“Hi, Megan. It’s Dorothy from Iyala. How are you?”
I stare at the screen. Sure enough, the number printed in white is one of the Iyala Nails office numbers. What in the world do they want?
Sure, the company and I parted ways without bad blood. They gave me a glowing reference as a going-away present, and I know they were disappointed to let me go. I was disappointed to be let go but also relieved to get out of the city in a strange way. Nevertheless, it was clear that there was no room for me at Iyala. So why is she calling now?
“Hey, Dorothy,” I say, looking through the window over the sink. The sky darkens over the treetops. “How have you been?”
“Honestly, I’m a mess over here.” She chuckles. “We just finished an audit, and you know how stressful those are.”
“Yeah. I don’t miss that.”
She sighs. “I was hoping that maybe you did.”
Huh?
I spin around and rest my back against the sink for support. Surely, I misheard her.
My brain kicks into overdrive, working hard to make some sense of the vice president of operation’s sentence. “I was hoping that maybe you did.”
What does that mean?
“Our summer line didn’t hit our goal,” Dorothy says. “To be honest, it didn’t come close.”
My spirits sink. I can imagine how the team felt when they got the final season reports. We always knew when they were coming in and would practically make ourselves sick for the couple of weeks leading up to it. The report numbers affect everything—how the next budget is divided, who gets bonuses, and who does not. And, in my case, who gets fired.
Despite having been let go from the company, my heart still hurts for them. I understand why I was let go. At the end of the day, it felt right for me anyway. But I can’t help but be bummed for my former colleagues.
“I’m so sorry, Dorothy. I know that’s extremely hard.”
“Yes, it is. And we’re looking for ways to make up the difference in the spring campaign. Unfortunately, it’s already too late for winter.”
“What’s the winter theme?”
“Frost.” She pauses, letting that sink in. “We went with Frost.”
“That’s …”
“It’s uninspired, that’s what it is. It’s basic and unoriginal.”
The oven timer beeps. I shut it off and remove a sheet of cookies. “I can’t disagree. We ruled out Frost as a concept nearly every year. Why did you choose to go that direction now?”
“Oh, I don’t know anymore. Our creative team struggles to fine inspiration. They have virtually no ear to the ground, so to speak. They’re flat and one-dimensional. I don’t know if you saw the marketing materials for winter, but they were absolutely boring, Megan.”
I jump at a sound behind me. Chase walks through the door holding two pizzas. He gives me a sideways smile that makes my knees weak.
“Dorothy, can I put you on hold for a moment, please?”
“Of course.”
I tap the mute button.
“I didn’t know you were on the phone,” Chase says, putting the pizzas on the table.
“It’s fine. My old job is calling me to tell me how much they miss me, I think.”
Chase’s eyes darken.
“Did you pick up Kennedy?” My chest tightens. “She’s still at Neve’s. She told me you would get her on the way home.”
“I did tell her that,” he says, running a hand over his head. “But I forgot it was Neve’s birthday today, and she’s having a few girls stay the night. I already told Kennedy she could stay.”
My brows shoot to the ceiling. You mean, we’re alone?
He holds my gaze so long that I shiver.
“I’m going to grab a shower,” he says. “And whatever you just baked smells great.”
“Cookies.”
He grins and walks to the mudroom. The lock clicks in place.
A breath of air rushes from my lungs as I hit the mute button again. “I’m sorry, Dorothy. I’m back.”
“I won’t take up much more of your time. But I’m calling to gauge your interest in coming back to us.”
I still.
“This is probably the moment that I admit we were wrong to let you go,” she says. “You have a knack for this industry that is dreadfully missing from our team, and we need you, Megan. We need you desperately.”
What?
“Well,” I say carefully, “I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting this. And I have a lot of questions and … wow. This is just very unexpected.”
“I understand. How about this—would you like to email me a list of questions so you can sit down and pull your thoughts together?”
I nod. “Yes. That would be helpful.”
“You have my contact information, and I look forward to hearing from you.”