15. Chapter 15
W hile opening my bedroom door cautiously, I peeked around the corner to see if the coast was clear and then took some hesitant, quiet steps out of the room.
Rafael’s head popped up over the back of the couch.
Busted.
“Girl, I saw you!” he shouted.
I covered my ears and closed my eyes. “Why are you yelling at me?”
He stood and sauntered over, pursing his lips. “I’m not, but I should be. You got wasted last night, didn’t you?”
I stared at my best friend, my best best friend. If my head didn’t hurt so much, I’d glare at him, but it hurt to make facial expressions right now. “First of all, lower your damn voice. Second … are you judging me?”
His hands were on his hips as he nodded and then turned to start the coffee maker. “I’ll take pity on you though and get you some coffee and toast.”
Misery replaced my indignation, and I just nodded, ambled over to a kitchen stool, and then rested my head on my arms. He was probably right anyway—I’ve been relying on alcohol too much lately .
After a few minutes in silence, he placed a much-needed steaming coffee and buttery toast in front of me. “You went out with Cory and Stacy, didn’t you?”
My mouth full of toast, I shook my head.
Rafael narrowed his eyes.
When I finished chewing, I mumbled, “Just Stacy. Cory’s been sick or something.”
“Probably with liver disease,” he snickered.
I glared at him, even though it worsened the splitting headache I’d woken up with. “That’s not funny.”
“Sorry, you’re right.” After a moment of what appeared to be sincere regret, he scrutinized me with scrunched brows and demanded answers.
“But what the hell, Annie? Why’d you call them instead of us?
Rainn and I were sitting here in the apartment with nothing going on when we got your text that you were going out with a friend. ”
Stalling, I took a sip of the coffee and then a few more.
Going out with Stacy last night had been a stupid idea, as it always was.
Stacy and Cory were the friends I called when I wanted to party hard, to drown my sorrows or work off some rage, to get completely wasted and forget everything and everyone.
In college, we were all friends, but Rafael and Rainn had started distancing themselves a year or so ago, claiming they’d outgrown the lifestyle of constant drunkenness and recklessness.
I mostly agreed; I felt too old for this crap.
But every now and then, the old life pulled at me, sucking me back in.
It wasn’t the alcohol so much as the life of just …
not caring, pretending nothing really mattered except having fun.
The life my mother lived, basically. I flinched at the thought, and not for the first time.
This was always my thought the morning after.
But this time, drinking with Stacy hadn’t been fun at all.
I hadn’t blocked out any of the feelings I wanted to forget, I couldn’t muster any desire to hook up with a new guy, and I couldn’t even look back and say the hangover was slightly worth it. Not even a little.
Rafael reached out slowly and took my hand, squeezing it briefly before letting it go. “It wasn’t even worth it, was it? Sorry, girl. ”
“How are you a mind reader?” I asked, shaking my head in disbelief.
“I’m not. But I know my girl.” He sat on the stool next to me. “What I don’t know is what led to this. Last night was the book club. Was it that bad? I don’t see how it could go that wrong—”
“It was a success by all measures. Twenty-eight people showed up. By and large, everyone seemed engaged and interested,” I said flatly, using my finger to gather up the crumbs left up on my plate.
“OK, then …” his voice trailed off as he eyed me patiently.
“He was there.”
“Who?”
I raised my eyes to meet his.
“Oh,” he said quietly. “ Oh .”
“Yeah.”
“How—why—”
“It was just chance. He wasn’t following me or anything weird.
He likes books and so do I. Just my bad, bad, bad luck,” I said, punctuating the last “bad” by stomping my foot on the ground as I rose to put my plate and cup in the sink.
But I winced, realizing that although the food and caffeine had begun to help my headache, it hadn’t vanished.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” Rafael said casually. “Want to talk about my wedding instead?”
I turned and leaned back against the counter, regarding him thoughtfully. “Yes, please.”
An hour later, we were eating chocolate on the couch, laptops perched on our laps. “Oh, Raf, this is classic you and me. What’s Joel going to think when we tell him we spent the morning finding your honeymoon destination instead of your wedding venue?”
He gasped, and for a moment, he looked worried. Then, we both broke out into giggles. “He’d expect nothing less.”
“So true, and that’s how you know it’s meant to be,” I said, smiling a bit wistfully. Before I could dwell on that thought, I returned to my laptop screen, scrolling through more honeymoon locales, when my phone started ringing .
“Unknown number,” I said, setting it back down on the arm rest.
Rafael sat up a little straighter and spoke through a mouthful of chocolate. “Annie, you should answer it. What if it’s the agency? Or the bookstore?”
“Or what if it’s …” I wouldn’t let myself finish the sentence. “No.”
“Fine, I’ll do it then.”
“Raf, no—” I shouted as he grabbed my phone and slid the Answer slider to the left.
“Annie York’s phone. Can I help you?” he asked, sounding like a receptionist.
A few seconds passed as he listened. “Yes, of course. She’s right here.”
As he handed me the phone, I glared at him, making the meanest face I could muster. “Hello?” I said reluctantly.
“Hi, Annie. This is Jardin from Franchersantz Literary Agency. How are you doing today?”
My heart racing, I stifled the desire to scream and motioned to Rafael a thumbs up. “Hi, I’m doing well. It’s great to hear from you.”
“That’s good. I’ll get right to the point.
We’d like to offer you the agent assistant role.
Though most of our previous new hires for the assistant role have done an agency internship or something similar, we felt that the combination of your editing experience, your drive, and other factors indicated you’d be likely to succeed in this position.
And, of course, you come highly recommended by an internal staffer as well as by your past colleagues.
All in all, we’d like you to take on this role, if you want it.
The starting salary is only $40,000, which isn’t negotiable since it’s entry-level.
You’ll have full benefits, and I can send you all of those details in an email later today.
Are you still interested in the position? ”
When Jardin stopped talking, I released a heavy breath. “I am,” I croaked. After clearing my throat, I added, “Yes, I am so interested.”
“Fantastic,” Jardin said briskly. “Can you start Monday? Our standard background checks take a while, but we’ve started people earlier on occasion. ”
“Oh, um … yes!” I was surprised, but why not? After all, this was a real job, perhaps my destiny.
Once the call ended, Rafael was sitting there with arms crossed, and I was frozen in place.
When his face broke out into a grin, I started jumping up and down and screaming, as I’d wanted to do while on the phone.
As I felt my head pound in protest, I sank back onto the couch.
“Whew, I really needed to get that out of my system.”
“You got the job. Rainn told me last night you would. I was like ‘obviously,’” he said, rolling his eyes. “So, what about your … other commitments?”
I waved my hand dismissively. “Oh, I’ve already decided I’m going to keep doing the Bookshop internship. I even mentioned it during my interview at the agency, so they’re aware. It’ll just be on the side. Hakeem will be fine with me scaling back slightly from the original plan, I think.”
Rafael opened his mouth and then closed it for a moment. “And the school?”
I gasped. “Oh, I—I … sorry, I totally spaced it.”
His frown deepened for a moment, and then he sighed and extended an arm around me. “I know. You’ve had a lot on your mind, girl. It’s fine.”
I laid my head on his shoulder, silently thanking the universe for this wonderful, moody friend of mine. “I think I’d like to keep teaching, actually. But I’ll need to scale back. Could I do just the late evenings and weekends?”
He squeezed my shoulder. “How about just Saturday mornings? I’ll need to hire another part-timer, so I can give them the weeknight ones.
And you never know, your agency job might not be a 9-to-5 one.
I wouldn’t want you disappointing our little dancers by not showing up if Diana the diva writer decides she needs you to babysit her chihuahua. ”
I burst into laughter. “That’s not a real thing. ”
“It’s not?” Rafael looked disappointed. “Then I’m not sure I want you doing this agency work. The movies made it look interesting. You’re going to become downright boring, aren’t you?”
I elbowed him in the ribs before we both dissolved into laughter.
I was going to miss this, just relaxing with my friend on a weekday. Working a full-time job plus two part-time ones, I was going to be busy, beyond busy. But I needed that. Busy meant less time to think and to dwell on the past, what might have been, what never would be.
“Annie, please, no!” Rafael whined, sinking into the couch dramatically.
I stood with my hands on my hips. “What’s wrong with you?”
“My fiancé is a professional dancer, and even he lets me rest!” my roommate whined.
I sighed. “Move over, or I’ll sit on you.”
As I sat next to him, he groaned in pain. “See, even just that little movement. My abs are killing me. My thigh just screamed at me.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” I said, grinning at him.
“Seriously, Annie. Couldn’t you find something else to distract you until your first day at the agency? This is insane.”
“You of all people should approve. We’re dance teachers, and it’s practice we preach.”