I was so fucking pissed at him there were times it was hard to breathe. I wanted to hit him with a blunt object. I wanted to stab him with a letter opener. I wanted to break him in half so he could see what he was doing to me.
What he was doing to himself.
Because that hurt the most.
The pain he was inflicting on himself. The punishment he was enduring for having slipped in his perpetual evergreen grief for Allison.
Tom set the resume down on his desk and looked at me. “I don’t know Evan Allen personally, obviously, but I’ve certainly heard about his reputation. If he vouches for you, then I would be lucky to have you on the team.”
I nodded. “Can you…well, I would like to tell him myself, to expect your call. I don’t want it to be a surprise. Like I said, we both agreed it’s time for me to move, but you know, it’s hard. We’ve been a pretty tight team for several months.”
Not even a full year.
How was it possible my whole life had been upended in a timeframe measured in months? It didn’t feel normal, but maybe for someone my age, starting their independent life, it was. I had no reference.
“Of course.” Tom opened a top drawer in the desk he was sitting behind and extracted a business card. He handed it to me and I took it. “You let him know you’ve been offered a position contingent upon his reference. Once he calls and confirms what you’ve told me, I’ll have HR put together an offer letter. Sound good?”
No. It sounded tragic. But E.G. had left me no choice.
I smiled. “Thank you.”
Back at theoffice
“You’re late getting backfrom lunch.”
I’d just walked through the suite door when I stopped at the sound of his voice. He was lingering in his office doorway, almost as if he’d been waiting for me.
Since our confrontation a week ago, where he’d all but pinned me in the corner of his office, he’d been careful to keep his distance. And I’d been careful to keep mine, while still maintaining as much professionalism as I could muster.
Whatever that meant.
I’d been a student, a waitress and homeless before this job.
Oh. And a thief.
Just like we had every day for the past week, we moved like two boxers in the ring before the actual fighting began.
Constantly in motion.
Always assessing the opponent.
Waiting for an opportunity to attack.
Now was the time to throw the first punch.
“I didn’t go to lunch,” I swallowed.
I walked through the waiting area into my office. I took off my coat, placed it on the coat rack in the corner. My hands were shaking and I was having a hard time breathing. I needed to get my shit together.
This was hard. This was so freaking hard. Maybe the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life. In a life of really hard things.
“Where were you then?” he asked, now standing just inside my office.
I swallowed, then turned to face him directly. I tried to memorize his features. His brownish red hair, his impossibly green eyes. His stubborn jaw. I wanted to make sure this was the face I saw in my dreams. Not the contorted, angry one that was about to come.
I’d put Tom’s business card in my blazer pocket. I took it out and placed it on the desk, then slid it towards the edge.
“I was at an interview. That’s Tom Daniel’s business card. He owns a software company. Medical billing. If you call him, and give me a good reference, he’ll hire me as his administrative office manager.”
