Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Bailey
“Stop pacing,” Dad says.
I pause in my steps and glare at my phone. “How do you know I’m pacing?”
“I can hear it in your tone.”
“Bullshit.”
Dad laughs, all the same warmth from my childhood flooding me. “I also know you and how invested you are in this happening for Chad.”
He’s right. Chad’s gone for the final interview stage at a nonprofit he’s been talking about constantly since he first heard of them.
They want him for community outreach, and it sounds fucking perfect.
He won’t be earning a lot, but he’ll get to be social and put all his energy into something he’s passionate about.
I’m a thousand times more nervous than he was when he flashed me a quick holy fuck smile on his way out the door this morning.
“It’s been three hours since we spoke,” I point out. And twenty-six minutes, not that I’m strictly counting. But surely if it was good news, I would have heard about it by now? Who the hell interviews for two hours?
“Breathe, Bailey.”
I huff. “How do you know I wasn’t breathing?”
“This time, I actually could hear it.”
My legs pull me into a crouch, and I cover my eyes. “What if he doesn’t get it?”
“Then you’ll support him through the disappointment while he moves on to the next one.”
“But I don’t want him to be disappointed. I want him to be happy. He deserves to be happy.”
Dad’s patient voice comes out. “Chad is one of the happiest people I know. Sure, you’ve had some rough times lately, but he always bounces back. You know that.”
“Right.”
“I also don’t think you’re giving him enough credit.”
That makes me frown. I always, always give Chad all of the credit. He’s the best person I know. “What do you mean?”
“You’re assuming there’s a chance he’s not going to get this job. Focused on it. But we know Chad, and we know that when he’s trying to win someone over, they don’t stand a chance.”
He’s right about that. The reminder sparks some hope in my chest, and I manage to climb onto the couch without the urge to stand right back up again. “He is very charismatic.”
“Exactly. So make yourself a drink, put on some music, and be ready for him, no matter what state he comes home in.”
“I’ll … try.”
“Of course you will. And call me right away.”
“I will also try. Not going to lie, if it’s good news, the celebrations might kick right off.”
“And that’s my cue to go. Love you.”
I tell Dad I love him, too, and hang up.
The house is so quiet that I’m tempted to wake Hercules up, so he’s right about the music, and I suppose one little drink would help me to calm my nerves.
I busy myself making us a grazing plate for when he gets home, and my one drink goes down far too easily before I start on a second. And hell, maybe even a third for luck.
I’m somewhere around half a bottle in and feeling delightfully floaty when the elevator doors open in the hallway. My first step almost sends me headfirst into the stove, so I grip the counter and wait for him instead, trying to make the room less fuzzy.
Chad steps around the wall, and I’m distracted from his gorgeous smile by how handsome he looks. His suit fits like a dream, hugging his long legs and molding over his broad shoulders—
Wait.
Smile.
I suck in a breath that I choke on and almost shout, “You got it?”
He lifts one shoulder in a shrug, smile turning bashful. “Is anyone surprised?”
The noise that leaves me is barely human as I throw myself into his arms. The relief that crashes down around me is a mix of hoping he’ll find purpose again and an easing of the guilt I’d felt about him being unemployed and bummed about it.
Chad’s laughing, pressing kisses to my neck, my ear, my cheek. I lean into him like a cat, craving the affection, but then Hercules hears Daddy’s home and comes tearing into the room, yapping his head off.
Chad releases me to scoop him up. “Aww, look who else is happy for me.”
“I’m happier,” I point out.
He pecks me on the nose. “You’re also drunker. You started without me?”
“I was nervous!”
Chad’s eyes soften. “Fuck, I almost puked before the interview started.”
“I bet. Why dodn’t you—didn’t you call?”
“Sorry.” He sets Hercules down and pulls out a bottle from our rack of champagne.
There’s a loud pop of pressure releasing as he opens it and takes a swig right from the bottle.
Ahh, my man. So civilized. “The interview went great. Then they showed me around, introduced me to some people, and took me out for lunch. I was loving how thorough they were being, but there wasn’t that point where they were like, hey, you’re hired, so I just sort of went along with it all.
I didn’t want to be that numpty who made assumptions, you know?
And after lunch when we were shaking hands goodbye, I still couldn’t get a read on them and ended up just asking how I went.
They were confused. I was confused. Apparently, the whole time, this was just a formality so the boss could meet me, and I basically had the job before I walked in. ”
My mouth drops. “All this stress was for”—I hiccup—“nothing?”
“Apparently.” He hands over the bottle.
Fuck it. I’m already close enough to drunk that I might as well finish the job. Tomorrow, who?
“You were actually worried?” he asks.
“Shitting myself. Had to have a”—hiccup again—“emotional support Dad call.”
“Wow. Really bad, then.”
“I just so wanted you to have this. To be where you belong, doing something you love. You deserve it, baby. So much.”
Chad takes the bottle and sets it on the counter, then pulls me against him. I melt into his touch.
“I’m so sorry we got so off track.”
“Me too.”
“But I’m making it right, Princess.” His forehead rests against mine. “That start to our lives was just practice. This is where we begin.”
I know what he’s saying, but … “No.”
“No?”
“No,” I confirm. “Sure, it was shitty. But I’ll take shitty with you over not having you any day. I love our lives, warts and all, but I love it even more with you happy. So just focus on that, okay? Nothing else.”
“Impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because my life isn’t worth anything unless I’m making you happy too. I forgot how to do that for a moment there, but now we’re back on track.”
“I like that.” Happiness, for both of us.
And not focusing on anything else.