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She jumped, turning startled eyes toward him. “I didn’t say anything about a guy.”
“You didn’t have to.”
She pressed her lips together firmly. Having people read her when they barely knew her wasn’t something she appreciated, but then she didn’t really have any say in the matter. “Whatever,” she mumbled under her breath.
“For what it’s worth, I think you made the right choice.”
“Again,” she forced a smile, “I didn’t say anything. You have zero context for what you’re saying.”
He shrugged. “I work with a lot of women. I’ve dated them, I’ve broken up with them. Heck, I’ve been on the opposite side of the breakup more times than I can count. Andyouare pining for someone. But you’re here now. So that means you made a choice. And I think you chose right.”
“How would you know?” Her eyes narrowed and she frowned at him. “How can you possibly know what is good for me and what was the right choice? BecauseIbarely know if I made the right choice. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life.”
Turk studied her for a moment, and it felt like he had managed to get past her defenses, all the walls she’d put up, everything that kept her safe before he finally spoke. “Easy. Because you wanted this. You wouldn’t have come if you didn’t. And people like you—the people who are willing to move away from friends and family—know exactly what they’re doing. We’re a special kind of breed—the ones who don’t move our families with us. Granted, that’s why most of us are single. The married ones are locals.” He tossed her another flirty grin. “Give it some time. You’ll see. One of these days everything will click, and you’ll realize that this is where you were meant to be.”
She watched him slip out of her office and disappear from view. Something about the way he’d tried to put everything into perspective didn’t sit right with her. She couldn’t tell if it was because the advice had come from a guy who clearly wanted to ask her out, or if it was because her gut was telling her that he couldn’t be more wrong.
The rest of the workday dragged on much like the one before. Katrina found herself looking at the clock every hour or so, waiting for when she could take her leave—which was ridiculous when she wasn’t all that thrilled to go home.
By the time the day was over and she arrived at her apartment, her feet were sore, her head ached, and she felt even more weighed down than before she’d taken the job in the first place. Her arms were loaded up with samples and books from her office, so she balanced everything just long enough to unlock the door and push it open with her foot.
With a groan, she dropped everything onto the table near the front door. Some of the magazines slipped to the floor, bringing her less-than-stellar day to an even worse end.
She sighed, dropping to her knees to gather the items just as her roommate emerged from the back. Becca was short with wavy brown hair. She’d said before that she hated her brown eyes and plain appearance, but Katrina thought she was beautiful. She could wear a pair of gym shorts and a baggy shirt and make it look chic.
Becca pulled open the fridge, glancing over her shoulder toward Katrina only briefly. “I thought when we got jobs, we didn’t have to bring back homework.”
Katrina huffed, placing her hands on her knees before grunting as she got to her feet. “Well, when you’re the new girl and you’re still learning the ropes, they sorta expect you to make the extra effort.” She twisted around, facing Becca as she pulled a gallon of milk from the fridge. “And you should talk. What do you call all that?” She gestured sharply with one hand toward the stack of fifth-grade papers that littered the coffee table in the living room.
“That isn’t homework.”
Katrina snorted. “It’sliterallyhomework.”
“Notmyhomework.”
“Aren’t you grading it?”
She glanced once more toward the stack of papers. “Nah. If they turned it in, I’m giving them points. It was an opinion paper, anyway.”
“You’re a lot nicer than my fifth-grade teacher.”
Becca beamed. “Aw, you’re sweet.” She nodded toward the stack of stuff Katrina brought home. “What about yours? You didn’t bring that stuff home last week or the week before.”
“I’ve been a little… distracted.”
Glass of milk in hand, Becca’s eyes narrowed. “What’s distracting you? It’s not that guy, is it? The one who keeps hitting on you?”
“No… well, he did come into my office today. But he’s not the distraction. I’ve been thinking a lot about why I’m here. And I just can’t get something out of my head.”
“What’s that?” Becca returned the gallon jug to the fridge then took a sip of her beverage. “I thought you said you love your job. You like it here. All that fun stuff.”
“I do like my job. And this place is exactly what I was looking for when I was job hunting. It’s just… not the same.”
Even from where Katrina stood on the other side of the room, she could see Becca’s smile forming around the rim of her glass. “It’s a guy, isn’t it?”
Katrina rolled her eyes and turned toward her stack of what Becca affectionally referred to as homework. She avoided her roommate’s inquisitive gaze. “Yeah. I guess it does all sorta stem from a guy.”
“I knew it!” Becca practically hollered, making Katrina jump. I knew you were holding out on us. I knew you had a guy you were in love with.”
