Right?
My destiny doesn’t feel too glamorous, not that it ever did. Sighing, I dry my hair and then find my bed. I slide beneath the sheets and hug a pillow to my chest. I have to get some sleep. I have to work tomorrow.
I have to forget Derek tomorrow.
I have to pick myself up and start over again … tomorrow.
Chapter Two
When I pull into work the next day, my boss is outside unlocking the door. Frowning, I park in my usual spot and cut the engine. I’ve worked at Jay’s Sports Bar for four years, and this is the first time my boss has been late. Since she owns the restaurant, Norma always arrives an hour earlier than the rest of us to get her paperwork done.
“Hey,” I call to her when I step out of my car. “Everything okay?”
Startled, Norma drops her keys and a few papers. She turns around and holds one hand to her chest. “Oh, Jen. You scared me.”
Confused, I walk toward her. “Didn’t you hear me pull in?”
All five feet of my sixty-year-old boss looks worn and frazzled as she bends down to pick up what she dropped. “I guess my mind isn’t where it’s supposed to be.”
I smile and crouch down to help her. “Well, it is Sunday. We should be home relaxing.” I pull a few papers into a pile and can’t help but notice they’re all the same. My eyes catch a few words printed on each piece and my stomach starts to knot. Swallowing, I ask, “What’s going on?”
Norma looks defeated as takes the papers from my hands. “Jay’s is closing,” she says, her voice barely audible. “Leon is sick. Real sick.”
I blink a few times. Leon Jay, Norma’s husband, has been battling emphysema for as long as I can remember. “I thought he was feeling better,” I say.
“He was. Now …” Her voice fades. “He’s not.”
My heart goes out to her. I know how much she loves her husband and his condition has been tough on both of them, especially since she’s still working.
“We’re running out of money,” she says as we both stand. “We’ve had some unexpected medical bills; things our insurance won’t cover.” Norma hands one of the letters back to me so I can read it. “A few months ago, Applebee’s expressed interest in opening a restaurant in the area. They offered to buy us out.” She hesitates. “We agreed.”
My eyes scan the letter, but I can’t concentrate. “When is this happening?”
“It was supposed to happen at the end of the year.”
“But?”
“We officially close tomorrow.”
Questions bounce around my brain. “Why so soon?”
“More time is needed for renovations,” she explains. “This is an old building, and it needs some repairs.”
The words “first opportunity to apply” jump off the paper at me, and my shoulders sag. “None of us have jobs, do we?”
Norma closes her eyes. Somehow, when she opens them again, she looks years older. “They said our staff will have the first chance to apply, but you’re right. Employment isn’t guaranteed.”
Now my stomach truly sinks. I need to start job hunting. I glance down at my feet, at the invisible rug that’s being pulled from under me for the second time in a matter of hours. Tension fills my body and Norma must notice, because she tries to ease it.
“You know you’re like family to me,” she says with a sad voice. “It was a hard decision to sell this place, let alone share the news before I was ready. You need to know I’m going to pay you for the next six months, through the date we were supposed to close. It’s the least I can do.”
I give my boss a resigned smile. While her gesture is nice, the $7.40 I make an hour is nothing without tips.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” Norma looks pained. “I’ve been dreading this day.”
Even though I’m the furthest thing from happy, I can’t be mad at Norma. I understand why she made the decision she did; family comes first. I set my hand on her arm to try and comfort her. “It’s okay. Your husband is the most important thing.”
She pats my hand.
A car door slams behind me and I realize my coworkers are starting to arrive. I look at the letter, then back to my boss. “Am I free to go?” I don’t think I want to relive this conversation.
“Sure,” she says and squeezes my fingers. “If you need a letter of recommendation, please let me know.”
I nod and, defeated, turn and head back to my car. First Derek, now my job. What else can go wrong?
~~~~
Later that evening, after I spent the day driving around to find job applications, I stop at Starbucks for comfort food. I figure I deserve it after the last two days. Armed with a caramel Frappuccino and a double chocolate chunk brownie, I pull up to my apartment building only to discover I can’t enter the parking lot. Two police cars and three fire trucks block the entrance.
You have got to be kidding me.
The flashing lights are blinding as I drive by. I park down the road and get out of the car to walk home. As I get closer, I can smell smoke. There was a fire? I hope no one got hurt. Thoughts begin to swirl in my mind: I straightened my hair this morning. Did I turn off the flat iron? What if I caused this? I was a little distracted because I woke up to a Derek/Ross text:
I want to see you.
Fat chance, asshole.
I reach a group of people huddled on the sidewalk wearing sweats and pajamas. “What happened?” I ask.
“Fire.” An older woman I’ve seen in the laundry room turns around. “It started a few hours ago over on the end.” She points. “Building D.”
Figures. It’s my building. At least I’m not responsible; my unit is in the middle.
“Did they put it out?”
“Yes, but rumor has it the indoor sprinkler system caused more damage than the actual fire.” She looks around the group. “Before we evacuated, our units were soaked.”
My mouth falls open. “So everything is wet?”
“Likely so.”
Oh no. The last thing I can afford right now is to replace my things.
Overwhelmed, I step away from the group and sit down on the curb. I hold my head in my hands and stare at the pavement. My life has gone from normal to insane so fast I may have set a Guinness Record. I must have royally pissed off the universe, although I don’t know how. My breathing becomes erratic as I realize everything I love is converging on ruin.
“Miss?”
I look up to find a fireman standing beside me.
“Do you live here?”
I nod while I consider asking him to save me from my life. He’s a hero. That’s what they do.
He crouches down to my level. “Chief says all residents are clear to go inside and get what they need for the night. Your landlord has opened the clubhouse as a temporary shelter.”
I squint. “How long will it be until we can stay in our apartments?”
“Things are pretty messed up.” He frowns. “I guess it depends on how fast the building gets cleaned and inspected.”
That’s not good news. Slowly, I stand. The firefighter helps by steadying my elbow. “Thanks,” I say.
“Do you need any other help?”
I let out a sarcastic snort. “You have no idea.”
He chuckles, then steps away. “My name is Peyton, if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Peyton.”
He winks at me and I notice his eyes. They’re a stunning shade of blue. As he turns and walks over to another group of people, my frazzled mind does the most inappropriate thing possible: it wonders what he looks like under all that gear.
Really, Jen?! I chastise myself. This is not the time or the place to think about guys. Given my most recent romance, I should swear them off all together. With my luck, he probably has a wife, a girlfriend, and kids.
Just then, my phone rings in my bag. I reach for it and swipe the screen to answer as I walk. “Hey, Peter.”
“Hey, Little J!”
I roll my eyes at my oldest brother’s nickname for me. Actually, all my brothers call me that. After Peter, there’s Josh and then Adam. I’m the youngest and the only girl.
“Pete. I’m not a kid. Stop calling me that.”
“You will always be Little J,” he says. “Anyway, listen, I need a favor.”