Chapter 12
My brows pulled together. “Help me with what?”
“Find you a job. I’m actually looking for a new hygienist.”
My mouth fell open slightly, and a half-snort, half-scoff escaped me.
“You’re kidding, right? Did you not hear anything I just said?”
Jay didn’t miss a beat. “I think I can change your mind. About dentistry, about dentists. About me.” His voice was so annoyingly confident. And he didn’t seem to be kidding in the slightest.
I shook my head and turned to the windows, staring out at the glassy water, trying not to freak out. He couldn’t possibly be serious about this. It sounded like a recipe for disaster.
When I didn’t respond right away, he continued.
“Come work for me. And you’ll still be able to write your book on the side. You’ll get everything you want. You just said that if you could find a job here in Big Bear, you’d stay.”
“But I didn’t mean a dental-related one.”
“I love what I do, Hope. And it kind of stings that you think all dentists are the same.”
“So you see this as some sort of challenge?” I turned back toward him and narrowed my eyes.
“Maybe a little.” He gave a small smile.
Classic male ego. I scoffed. “This isn’t a game, Jay.”
“I know it’s not. But I don’t like the idea of you walking around thinking all dentists are horrible and temperamental. And I can’t help but think that if you’d had a better work experience, you wouldn’t have hated the dental field so much.”
I shook my head, letting out a bitter laugh. “I can’t just work for you. It’s not that simple.”
“It could be,” he insisted. “Not all of us are like whoever hurt you, Hope.”
My stomach twisted. Jay didn’t know about the panic attacks that came without warning, or how the scent of antiseptic could still make me lightheaded. He didn’t know all the emotional baggage I carried.
“Jay—” I exhaled long and shakily. “You don’t understand. I didn’t just leave a job. I left an entire world I don’t want to go back to.”
“I don’t have to understand everything,” he said finally. “But I can promise you one thing.”
I met his gaze warily. “And what’s that?”
“That I’m not like him. And I never will be.”
I hadn’t been expecting that. It took me a moment to respond. If I had a job, I could finally sit down and write. I’d be financially able to survive on my own, and I wouldn’t have to go back to Riverside. I had to admit it was tempting.
“If I took the job, I’d probably quit after a few days,” I warned, trying to deter him. To give him one last chance to back out. “I really don’t think it’s what I want.”
“All I’m asking is for you to give it a chance.”
I wished he wouldn’t. Everything about this felt like a bad idea. There was a 99% chance it would blow up in both our faces.
“I don’t know,” I said quietly, pushing my chair back. The restlessness in my body made me want to pace. I stood and walked to the living room, pacing back and forth on the rug in front of the fire while carefully avoiding Luna’s tail. I needed distance, even if it was only across the room.
Jay followed me but sat on the couch. After a few minutes of my anxious pacing, I took a seat on the opposite side of the sectional.
He leaned back into the cushions, posture easy, patient. “We could do a trial run,” he said casually, like it wasn’t a big deal. “If you hate it as much as you think you will, you can walk away. No strings.”
I bit my lip. The offer shouldn’t have been so tempting…
Maybe I could work as a hygienist again and still write. Maybe I could have the best of both worlds.
But could I trust him?
“I would have some conditions,” I said quietly, barely above a whisper.
Jay leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The flickering firelight caught in his eyes, making them somehow darker. “Shoot.”
“I’d start with three days a week,” I said. “If it goes well, I’d consider more. And I would want the best going rate for a hygienist in California.” I took a shaky breath. For once, I was setting the terms.
“I wouldn’t have suggested otherwise,” he said smoothly.
His confidence was infuriating, yet strangely reassuring. My stomach flipped again. If I were going to work for him, I was going to have to figure out how to stifle this attraction. He would be my boss.
“I’d need paid sick leave and vacation days.”
“All right,” he nodded without hesitation.
My eyes narrowed. “And I want to wear any color of scrubs I want.” I tacked that on out of spite. At my father’s clinic, colored scrubs had been forbidden.
His smile widened, slow and boyish this time. “You drive a hard bargain, Amapolita, but—fine. Wear all the bubblegum pink you want.”
“I need it in writing,” I blurted. “All of it. In a real contract. With, you know, signatures and stuff.”
Jay’s smile softened. “I’ll draft it right now.”
He stood and left for another room next to the kitchen that appeared to be an office. The soft click of the door closing left me alone with the fire crackling and my racing thoughts.
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. Just because Jay was a friendly neighbor didn’t mean he’d be a good boss.
“Ugh,” I muttered, and the only one able to hear me was Luna. The pup opened her eyes briefly, then closed them again. “Maybe this time will be different?” I whispered to myself.
Those words were going to backfire on me, and I knew it.
But wasn’t that what life was all about?
Giving things second chances? Making mistakes again and again?
Wouldn’t it just make me irrevocably human if it all came crashing down?
There was something beautiful about taking a chance, even if it ruined me.
I wanted to believe in things like that.
That’s why I’d come to Big Bear in the first place.
I reached for my phone, tempted to text Emily for advice, but then an unread message popped up on my screen.
MOM: Mason told us you’re in Big Bear. Please come home. Your father and I are worried about you. Applications for dental school are due soon, and we don’t want you to miss out on this opportunity.
No missed calls. Just a text.
Was she serious?
She didn’t even have the decency to call. To check in on me. I’d basically run away, and all I get is a text. Also, the fact that my mom was doing my father’s dirty work was even more aggravating.
A fire burned in my chest. It all but made my decision for me. I wasn’t going back home to work at the clinic or apply to dental school. I had to prove they couldn’t control me anymore.
The office door opened, and Jay came out with several sheets of paper. He sat next to me and passed the freshly printed paperwork, still warm from the printer.
“Here’s the new employee packet I typically give all my employees. I’ve included all the stipulations you mentioned.”
I flipped through the pages. Sure enough, everything was there: sixty dollars an hour, two weeks of sick leave, two weeks of paid vacation at any point in the year, even a sentence in italics mentioning the colored scrubs.
I found the dotted lines and took the pen from his fingertips. Next to the empty signature line was his full name, already signed.
“Dr. Jay Alarcón,” I read aloud.
“Everyone at the clinic just calls me Dr. Jay,” he said simply.
I looked back at his signature, then at him. “Okay… Dr. Jay.”
I signed the papers on the coffee table. The scratch of the pen was the only sound besides the crackle of the hearth.
“No hesitation?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
I shrugged, passing the papers back. “I figure at this point, I’ve got nothing to lose.”
My mom’s text flashed in my mind.
Thanks, Mom, I thought, pressing the pen into Jay’s hand. Thanks for reminding me that I’m definitely not coming home.