Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
We talked about their upcoming trip for a while before the conversation moved back to me.
“How’s the next book coming along?” Ryan asked.
“I haven’t started.” I hadn’t given it any thought at all. “In fact, I got an email from my publisher, asking for an update.”
“What did you say?” Ryan asked.
“Nothing.” I drank from my beer again.
“You can just do that?” Ryan asked. “Ignore them?”
“I’ve just been busy with the new internship program, my classes, shit like that.” I didn’t want to write the book anyway. Even though the last book was really successful, I just had no drive. It was like I’d forgotten about the characters.
“But you can’t ignore them forever, right?” Ryan asked. “What will they do?”
I shrugged. “I hold all the cards, so there’s nothing they can do. They either wait until I’m done or blow up my inbox. I don’t give a damn.”
“Wow.” Ryan turned to Camille. “I wish I could act like that at work. That’d be nice.”
“I don’t,” Camille said with a laugh. “Because we need to pay rent. And if we don’t pay rent, no more titties.”
“Oh shit,” Ryan said. “Maybe I should go for the employee of the year thing. then.”
“If it comes with a raise?” Camille turned to him. “Then you can grab them in public all you want.”
He turned to me and grinned. “Ooh, I’m on it.”
On Sunday morning, my dad texted me. Hey, you think you could come over for dinner tonight? We have something we want to talk to you about.
I can’t tonight. Maybe next week. He’d asked me a couple times, but I really had a lot going on. I felt like I was busier than ever, like I was spread too thin.
Alright. Can we lock it in next week? I’d really like to see you.
Sure. I’ll see you then.
8
Emerson
The call I’d been waiting all day for finally came.
I was in the corporate office when I answered. “This is Emerson.”
“Hello, Emerson. This is Sheila from the Lambert Firm.”
“Thanks for calling. I hope you have some good news for me.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t. We actually filled the position. But you were one of our top picks.”
I lowered myself into the chair behind the desk and felt the disappointment hit me hard. I was so fucking tired of getting so close to landing these jobs and then being edged out by somebody else. I’d tried to go back to my old publisher, but that bridge had been burned when they gave me a position and I declined it later…when Derek asked me to stay. Now I was in the job market competing with a bazillion people. I bet I would have a better chance if I could get a recommendation from Derek, but I refused to ask. It would probably be generic and empty anyway. Literally useless. “I understand. Thank you for calling.”
“We had a lot of applicants for the position, so don’t feel too bad.”
“No, I understand. Thank you.” I hung up and sighed loudly, so frustrated that I was stuck in a job I hated with a man I despised. All the jobs with incomes even remotely close to mine were being filled by people more qualified than me, and I kept getting screwed over. “I wish I’d never started here.” I was alone in the office, but I said the words out loud…even though no one was listening. “I wish I’d never met Derek fucking Hamilton.”
After dinner, we grabbed ice cream cones from a street vendor and walked home.
Paul and I met through a dating app. We went out a couple times, and he was nice enough. He had a good job as a pharmacist. He was clearly smart, just a little dull sometimes. He walked beside me and licked his cone. “How’s yours?”
“Good, even though it’s pretty cold outside.”
He chuckled. “We’ll get an early spring this year. I can feel it.” He was handsome enough, but not ripped like Derek had been. But finding a single guy at thirty was difficult, so I knew I had to lower my standards.
“Hope you’re right.”
He walked me down the street then stopped in front of my apartment. “So, you think I can come up?”
I’d only gone to his place, but I never spent the night. I always came home afterward. I hadn’t told him about Lizzie, and it wasn’t on my profile. When I did have it on my profile, I literally got no interest. My account turned stale and got covered in cobwebs. When I just wanted to hook up, they couldn’t care less, but when I actually wanted a relationship, I couldn’t get the time of day from anyone. I felt guilty for lying, but if a guy actually got to know me, he wouldn’t care about Lizzie…like Derek. “I would, but…” We’d been out at least five times, so I thought now was the time to tell him. “There’s something you should know about me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”