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And he felt like an outsider. He was already introverted enough that making friends was going to be difficult. But making friends in what felt like a completely foreign place was even harder.
The front door of the small office opened, revealing a woman humming happily to herself.
“Morning!” Josie Garner, Dane’s secretary, greeted him. Her desk was directly outside of his office, so she didn’t have to raise her voice to be heard. “It’s freezing out, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Glad I have this coffee to keep me warm!”
She peeled off her fluffy pink hat, shaking out her long, white blond hair, and hung her coat up on the hook next to the door. Then, she got right to work. Her side was facing Dane and she had her face turned away as she rifled through her desk drawers, but Dane knew she had a pleasant expression on her face.
He was glad for it. She was far better with people than he was, and incredibly smart too. As much as he wanted to try to do everything on his own for the paper, he needed help. People were going to call and ask questions, and he didn’t want them to be put off by his brusque attitude. Especially around here. He wasn’t rude, but he was having a hard time adjusting to being outside of New York. The standards for politeness were a lot higher.
They worked in silence, the clacking of their keyboards filling the office. Eventually Josie stood, coming up to his door.
“Everything’s ready for tomorrow,” she said. “And people are excited too.”
“Yeah?” Dane swallowed.
“Totally. I overheard people talking about it when I went to Tidal Wave, actually.” She smiled, her brown eyes sparkling. “It’ll be great.”
Dane could only nod. He was glad someone was excited about it. All he could muster was a pit of worry in his chest. What if he failed? What if everything imploded around him? This paper was his plan B and he didn’t have another backup to fall back on.
Alvin’s email was still sitting in his inbox, unopened. What if it confirmed every doubt he had? He didn’t want to find out.
CHAPTERTHREE
Alissa adjusted her laptop so it wouldn’t slide off her stomach and onto the floor. She was stretched out on her couch, still in her pajamas despite it being eleven in the morning, and going through job posting after job posting. Her transition from sitting at her desk, to sitting on her couch with her computer on her lap, to this, laying on her back with her head propped up enough to see her screen, was a good indication of how the job hunt was going—optimism sliding into resigned despair.
She groaned, rubbing one eye with the heel of her hand. The words on the screen were starting to swirl around and she had far too many tabs open. Her cover letters were starting to run together so much that she was afraid she was sending some to the wrong potential employers.. She put her laptop on her coffee table and sat up, stretching. What day was it anyway? Wednesday? No, Thursday.
It hadn’t even been a full week since she lost her job and the days were already blurring into each other. She didn’t blame herself, though. Each day had been the same—wake up, remember her failures, eat some leftovers from the night before, and job hunt until she got discouraged or tired. Rinse, repeat. The monotony of it made her feel useless. On the hardest days of her job atEpic, she had wished for days to lay around and do nothing. Now that she was forced to do it, she hated it. How was not working this hard? Her brain felt inert, like she was a robot being tasked with the most basic things—wake up, eat, sleep, apply for jobs.
She got up, tucking her feet into her slippers and taking the short walk to her tiny kitchen. Despite her abundant amount of time, the counters were cluttered and dirty plates filled the sink. The thought of tackling those was almost as terrible as continuing her job hunt, so she grabbed a bottle of chardonnay and poured herself a glass. Why not? Her eleven AM was the exact same as her eleven PM and all of the days bled into each other.
The buttery coldness of the chardonnay washed over her tongue as she walked back to her spot on the couch. Instead of opening up another document to write yet another cover letter, she opened a new window and pulled up her favorite streaming site. She had been at it for a while and was more than ready for a break.
But before she could get into a show, her phone rang on the coffee table.
“Ugh, come on,” she groaned.
It was her twin sister, Caitlin Market. She loved Caitlin, but they were polar opposites in most ways. Alissa wasn’t looking forward to the inevitable judgment about her career failures when she picked up the phone. The conversation where Alissa had told Caitlin that she had lost her job hadn’t gone well, and Alissa had only escaped because Caitlin had to hop off the line before she could really get into it. Better to get this conversation over with.
“Hey, Caitlin,” Alissa said, clearing her throat. She hadn’t spoken more than ten words in days.
“Hey. How’s it going?” Caitlin asked.
“It’s going. Just job hunting.” Alissa closed her laptop and put it down again. “I haven’t had much luck finding anything.”
“Mm.” Caitlin paused, shuffling something around on her end of the line. “It’s still early though. You’ve only been at it for a few days.”
“I know. I meant that there aren’t that many newspaper jobs period.”
Caitlin sighed and Alissa braced herself for what was about to come next.
“There are always jobs outside of newspapers too,” Caitlin said. “Maybe it’s time to expand your search. Find something more practical. I’m sure your skills could translate well to a number of different jobs.”
That was exactly what Alissa assumed Caitlin would say. She had always been the practical twin who had her life together—married at twenty-one to a kind man, co-owner of the restaurant she ran with her husband, mother to the greatest niece Alissa could ever have. Alissa just wasn’t the same way. Things being too similar day to day chafed, and she liked working in such a fast paced field that didn’t offer as much stability. And she was okay with that. Well, she was until her dreams were crushed.
