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That was it. She didn’t leave her full name or her contact information. I couldn’t remember how long she said she would be at the resort, but even if she was going to be there for a while longer, I wasn’t. Kyle’s wedding was that day, and I was flying out later that night, after the festivities. Unless I wanted to try to sneak away from the wedding dinner early—which seemed like a bad look for the best man—there wasn’t going to be any time for me to see Lily before heading back to San Francisco.
The pen was sitting next to the piece of paper that she’d written the note on, and I picked it up, thinking about leaving my number. But then, I decided at the last minute not to. If she wanted to see me again, she would’ve made that clear.
Despite my feelings regarding the night we had together, I wasn’t the type of guy who pined after a girl who wasn’t pining for me. Besides, the more I thought about it, the more I doubted whether or not the sex was really all that good. We were both drunk, and I was probably just remembering it through beer goggles or something. It was a fun night, but now it was over. There wasn’t anything else to say on the matter, and I had a wedding to get to.
With that in mind, I put the pen down, gathered my clothes from the bathroom, and left the suite—leaving Lily and my feelings for her behind me.
ChapterThree
LILY
Six Months Later
As much as I was going to miss my parents, I was so excited to finally be moving out of Riverside again.
After I got back from Hawaii, I found out that Bret was trying to fight me for ownership of our San Diego apartment. Not only that, but over the course of the two weeks I’d been gone, he managed to call up all his lawyer buddies in the city and turn them against me. He made the whole thing out to be my fault, and by the time I got back to work at my old firm, everyone there acted like I was some sort of controlling shrew. People talked behind my back all the time, though none of them had any of their facts right, and I wasn’t about to stick around and just take it.
Two days after returning to San Diego, I quit my job, packed up all my stuff, and went to my hometown of Riverside. I needed to take some time to myself anyway, to figure out what my next move was, and to re-evaluate some of my latest life decisions. This took a couple of months, and then I started looking for new jobs, and eventually, three weeks ago, I got around to applying.
Thankfully, Becker Technologies, a data-security company in San Francisco, was in desperate need of a corporate attorney to add to their team, so they scheduled an interview with me the day after I applied. The HR rep told me that the CEO, Mr. Becker, had put her in charge of hiring and didn’t feel the need to be on the interview call himself, which made things a little easier. I only had to schmooze and impress one person instead of two and if there was one thing I was good at, it was schmoozing.
They offered me the job right there on the spot. Now, it was the Friday before I was scheduled to start, and I was packing up the last of my things and loading them into my car as my mom fiddled in the kitchen prepping me a lunch to go, and my dad lectured me on what to do if I got a flat tire.
“Dad,” I said after loading the last box into my bright blue SUV. “I have AAA, if I get a flat tire, I’m just going to call them.”
He scoffed. “Who told you to get AAA? Because I know it wasn’t me. They are a total scam.”
I laughed and closed the trunk. “Agree to disagree.” I headed back inside my childhood home and he followed. My mom greeted me in the hallway with a brown paper bag full of goodies and a teary-eyed smile. “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll call you guys when I get into the city, okay?”
“Are you going straight to your new apartment?” my mom asked.
“Yeah,” I said. I didn’t know anyone who lived in the city, but Gina’s brother lived not too far away, and she told me he had offered to let me crash there for a while if need be. Thankfully, I had enough money saved up to put down first and last month’s rent on a shockingly small studio apartment just a few blocks away from the building I would be working in. “The landlord is meeting me later tonight to give me the key.” I checked my phone. “Speaking of, I better hit the road so I’m not late to meet him.”
I wrapped my arms around my mom and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you so much, for everything.” If it hadn’t been for the loving home my parents welcomed me back into, I don’t know what I would’ve done after Bret and I split up. “I’m going to miss you guys.”
“We’re going to miss you too.” My mom sniffled right next to my ear and when she pulled away from the hug, she kept her eyes trained on the floor so I couldn’t see her crying. My dad gave me a shorter, stiffer hug, but I could hear in his voice that he was a little emotional as well when he said goodbye. They both stood in the doorway as I walked to my car and waved to me as I drove down the street, and then I hung a right and went towards the freeway.
Ten minutes later, I was on highway 210 heading north, going as fast as I could without risking getting pulled over, and on my way to my next chapter in life.
San Francisco—here I come.
* * *
It was naive of me to think that my landlord might offer to help me move my boxes up the three flights of stairs to my new studio apartment, and yet, I had been hopeful. After I met the man, however, I knew that was never going to happen. His name was Ian, and he was probably five years younger than me. I could tell from the way he dressed—in designer clothes that were made to look casual and inexpensive—that he either came from money or had somehow made a lot of money before the age of 25. This meant his family was rich, or he hit it big in Silicon Valley like a few lucky, young nerds before him.
Regardless of where his money came from, however, the result was the same. He was entitled, a little oblivious, and when he handed me the keys, he barely paid me any mind.
“Rent is due on the first of each month,” he said, looking at his phone. “The building manager lives in unit 1A, talk to her if you have any problems. Never call me directly unless it’s anemergency.” At this point, he finally made eye contact. “And when I say emergency, I mean the building better be literally on fire, got it?”
“Sure,” I said. “I understand.”
He smiled and went back to texting. “Cool. Well, welcome to the building. I’m sure you’re going to love it here.” A phone call came through and he answered it, walking away without even saying goodbye. I waved, but then put my arm down, feeling like a fool.
“Gee, thanks for offering to help me with all my stuff,” I said under my breath. “You’re a real gentleman.”
“Isn’t he though?”
