Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“Absolutely,” I say. “It’s clear she’s a happy kid. Love is all she needs, and you give her plenty.”
“Thanks, girlies.” She lets out another sigh she’s probably not even aware of. “I try.”
We talk for a few more minutes, catching up on each others’ lives, or at least the parts we’re willing to share. Stella has hardly dated at all since Jessie was born, so now is definitely not the time for me to talk about how I got more than my fair share of action bent over a conference room table.
When we end the call, Marissa and I have a brief conversation that we’ve had many times before, about our concern for Stella. We’ve asked her to come and live with us—we’d make it work, whether here or in another place, depending on what our third roommate Callie does in the future—but we all know a big life change like that is much easier said than done, and even if Stella’s mom isn’t the greatest, she’s still family.
“I see a lot of jobs Stella would be great at, even without her degree,” I tell Marissa. “There’s so much more opportunity around here.”
“I know, but for full time jobs, she’d need daycare after school for Jessie. If a job didn’t pay really well, all the money she earned would go for child care.”
“I hope she can finish her degree sometime.”
“I’m sure she will, eventually.”
The two of us are sighing now, just like our tired friend was. If Stella can’t afford dance classes for her daughter, there’s probably not much chance she can afford to pay for the rest of her own education. And without her degree, her employment options aren’t as good. I’m afraid she’s caught in a vicious circle, and I wish I could help her get out.
CHAPTER 6
ANA
Even though I finally do take a shower before going to work the next day, I can still feel the men on my body, especially between my legs. There’s a little ache there that makes me smile every time I notice it.
It’s that little ache that helps me not regret screwing up the opportunity for a higher paying job.
I’m updating employee files this afternoon, which is a very boring task, so I’m excited when a guy from the warehouse comes to see me with an inquiry about his remaining vacation time.
After I answer his questions, I ask if there’s anything else I can help with.
“I do have questions about job training and advancement opportunities, but I’ll talk to Rebecca about that when she’s available.” Rebecca is my manager.
I gesture to the spare chair in my little cubicle. “Have a seat, and let’s talk about your goals.”
The man looks down at his feet and toes the carpet, looking uneasy. “Um … this is probably something I should talk to Rebecca about instead, but thanks for your help on the other stuff.” He turns to go then, leaving me to get back to the files.
Everyone’s really nice here, and I like Rebecca and the rest of the team, but my lack of responsibility is sometimes demoralizing. I’ve been job hunting because I crave more intellectual stimulation and the ability to make a difference for people, and it might be a long time before I have the opportunity for that if I stay here.
From the looks of things, the job at Community Bean would likely have been full of challenges and very stimulating—apparently too stimulating. I would have had a lot more responsibility there, but I also would have had the difficult task of putting up with those grumpy men, and resisting my desire for them on a daily basis. I’d have had to bring extra underwear to work, since even just thinking about them is making me a little wet right now.
I’m sure there will be plenty of other opportunities for jobs that will be challenging in the right ways, with bosses who have much more pleasant attitudes.
The rest of the day passes slowly, until finally it’s time to leave. I draw in a big breath of crisp fall air when I step outside, and am looking forward to curling up with a good book when I get home. I’m about to cross into the parking lot when a sleek black sports car pulls up, blocking my path.
I can’t see the rude driver through their dark tinted windows, and now that they’re directly in my way, they don’t seem to be moving anytime soon. I start to go around the car when the passenger window slides open and someone says my name.
It’s Derek Brooks, though I’m sure I must be imagining him, since I’ve thought of him and Jansen Bennett so many times throughout the day.
“Get in.”
It’s definitely Derek with such charming manners.
I step closer and peer into his car. “Why?”
“So I can talk to you. Get in.”