“That was shitty of him, but expected,” JJ agrees, having been around my brother almost as long as I have. His folks were absent more often than not, so he essentially became my parents’ fourth child. “Your shittiness is a little less expected, but I get it.”
Thankyou.
But JJ keeps going. “But you’re still being a dick now, even knowing shedidn’tshow up out of the blue. Your brother posted the job, and she took it.”
The microwave beeps, and I pull the burger out, tossing the plate on the counter. The patty stares back at me, pathetically bare, as I mull over JJ’s words.
“You’re right,” I decide.
A long exhale rattles over the connection. “I don’t like that, man.”
“What?”
“That two-word answer resigned bullshit. Means you’re digging your heels in.”
It’s scary sometimes how well he reads me.
He continues to do so when he says, “This girl might remind you of Mackenzie, butshewas a special kind of crazy you don’t see much around here. I doubt this one’s like her. I wouldn’t hate her right off the bat.”
“I don’t hate her.”
It’s a half-truth. IknowI shouldn’t hold Mackenzie’s likeness against her, but it’s a natural defense mechanism to be wary of the newcomer who gives the same first impression as the woman who screwed me over because she thought I was cheating on her. The impression that’d somehow drawn me in last time, like a lamb walking itself right to the slaughter.
I set down my beer and lean against the counter. “It’s mistrust. Wariness. A desire for her to not be here, because social media is going to make us into a gimmick.”
JJ’s quiet for a beat. “Well, there’s nothing you can do about it. A contract is signed. It’s legally binding.”
“I’m legally bound to allow her to do her job at her workplace,” I correct. A grin snakes up my cheek that I’m glad no one is around to see, because this town respects me, and I’m stooping lower than I typically do. Lower than I should.
But if City Girl’s resume is as impressive as Anson says, there are endless opportunities she can seize—opportunities that lead to promotions, higher pay, and far more success than she could ever get at a contract gig on an oyster farm in Garnet Shores.
This wouldn’t hurt her in the least. If anything, leaving would be doing herself a favor.
“There’s a second part to that sentence,” JJ says cautiously.
There is. “She works at the farm,” I repeat, taking a swig of beer. The cold, bitter sweetness feels like a refreshing shower as it goes down. “Doesn’t mean I’m obligated to make sure she likes it.”
3
ELIZA
Mom: Suzanne find anything yet?
The time-stampon the text is 4:30 am. One hour ago. Which means the first thing my mother thought of when she woke to her Mozart-blaring alarm was whether Suzanne, her recruiter friend, had procured any promising job opportunities that could restore my reputation in corporate society.
Not how my drastic, temporary move had gone, or how my brain was doing with all the big sudden changes. I don’t think she’s even once asked, since I was laid off,How are you?
It’s not that I’m surprised. This is mom’s standard. I’m just particularly crabby about it because I’m awake two hours before my alarm, pajamas soaked through and sheets sticking to my skin. The air is thick with humidity, and early morning sunlight streams through the sailboat’s narrow port windows. Apparently, the owner of this boat doesn’t believe in window shades.
I throw my phone aside, slap my hands over my face,and collapse back on my pillow. Only I misjudge my position and knock my head against the side of the berth instead.
“Mothertrucking, piece of crap boat!” I curl on my side, pressing my hand against the bump that’s beating pain against my skull.
Andnow I want to cry at five-thirty in the morning.
I shove the tears back. I’ve felt sorry for myself a lot over the last two weeks, and it’s getting pathetic.
I’m healthy, employed, and safe. Really, I owe the world gratitude.
