Chapter 2
The dress code at her new job was amazing. Pajama casual. Showers? Optional. Ice cream? Anytime. The pay was shit, but the co-workers were top-notch.
Sure, her body odor resembled that of an unwashed teenager, but that was part of the expectations of the new job.
Also rotting on the sofa.
Lots of that.
Colette indulged in a few days of wallowing after being let go from her position.
She would have to apply for something soon, since she was too anxious a person not to have an income, and bills would eat up her compensation package in no time.
Her severance pay was not terrible, and she had a little bit of savings, but her heart raced when she thought about the time limit it gave her to get a job.
The high cost of rent for her one-bedroom apartment, car payments, and the cost of food would make that money run out quickly.
Her father, Rupert Slip, had been emailing her job postings every day.
So helpful.
She rolled her eyes as another pinging sound came from her inbox. What her father didn’t realize was that she was at a crossroads. The corporate job at the law firm of Jones and Miller had chewed her up and spit her out.
Did she want to climb right back on that same rollercoaster?
It wasn’t as though she fit in among the business law bros in matching puffy vests from Costco.
In that company culture, knowing what was going on in the last hockey game was more valued than actually doing a good job.
Other guys in her department got paid lunches, golf games, and drinks after work, while she met her deadlines and became bogged down finishing the paperwork others had abandoned.
But…she needed money to survive, so staying unemployed was not an option.
She had goals. She wanted a house one day, and maybe a family.
How could she accomplish this by being glued to her sofa alone for days on end?
A disappointed sigh slipped from her lips as she contemplated how far she was from any of those goals.
She needed a job to buy a house and a man to start a family. So far, she was zero out of two.
“Ugh,” she groaned as her head leaned on the back of the sofa, and she stared at the yellow-tinged popcorn ceiling, considering how pathetic her life really was.
A knock sounded at the door, and Colette went to answer it.
“How did you get into the building?” she asked, chest lightening at the sight of Simone and Cameron holding grocery bags of what sounded like chips and clinking bottles of booze.
“Your building has shit security,” Simone replied. “Some guy let us in.”
Her friends carried the bags over to the kitchen counter. Simone clucked her tongue as she looked at the stack of dishes.
“Stop judging me. I’m going through something,” Colette warned. She searched one of the bags and spotted barbecue chips. With the enthusiasm of a child opening a birthday gift, she tore a bag open and dug in.
“What are you eating? Your fridge is empty,” Cam said, placing the bottles in the refrigerator. “Babe, you need some proper groceries.”
“And a shower,” Simone added, making her way over to the sofa. “But who gives a shit? I don’t have time to judge you. I have news for you.”
Pulling wine glasses out of the cupboard, Colette took the bottle of Pinot Grigio Cam handed her and poured a healthy amount. She didn’t have to worry about hangovers these days; her schedule tomorrow was completely open. She had to come up with a plan. Soon.
“Are you and Roger getting married? Because I called it,” Colette said with a laugh. Cam carried the two other glasses behind her and followed her into the living room, as Colette clung to hers and the bag of chips as though her life depended on it.
It was nice to have something other than the ice cream and takeout she had been stuffing her face with the last few days. Variety was the key to a good life.
“No, stop waiting for that. He’s my forever boyfriend, and I’m very happy with that. I just have to convince him it’s enough.” Simone waited until Colette and Cameron joined her on the sofa. “Roger can be annoyingly persuasive.”
Tossing aside a few cushions to make some space, Colette snuggled into the couch, then cast her gaze to Simone. She wondered what her friend could possibly have to share.
“I’ve found a job for you,” she began. “It’s a bookkeeping or accounting job, whatever.”
“Sounds promising. Where do I apply? Is this one of your parents’ business connections? In this job market, I could use the help.”
Simone worried her bottom lip as though reconsidering her proposition.
“Roger told me about the opening, actually. It’s with his family’s company. Well, something like that.”
Colette made a humming sound and took a sip of her wine.
Intriguing.
She was determined to make sure whatever job she took next was the right fit.
Cameron’s eyes darted between both women as he swallowed a grin. What did he know that she didn’t?
“What’s the catch? I feel like there’s a catch,” Colette said, her eyes narrowing.
“You’d be helping with the day-to-day operations of one of the divisions in the King family assets. They just had a bookkeeper retire suddenly, and there’s a prime position up for the taking. Roger suggested it, and I thought it would be perfect. Except…”
Of course, she had been waiting for the but. Or the except. “Yes?”
“You’d have to move to Rosebud Ranch.”
“Roger’s family owns a ranch?” Colette asked, curious. She pursed her lips as she considered. Ranch sounded very…rural.
“It’s about an hour out of town, not far. You’d have to live on site for a while, until you got the situation under control.” Simone clenched her teeth and waited, zeroed in on Colette’s face for a reaction.
Colette’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. “I’ll think about it, but I’m not really farm girl material. I would stick out like a sore thumb out there.”
Besides, there would be animals on a ranch.
Big scary ones. Ever since a horse had stepped on her as a kid at some agricultural fair because she hadn’t gotten out of the way fast enough, she was terrified.
Instead of moving out of the way, she had just…
stayed frozen. Animals were so unpredictable. Or, she had terrible survival skills.
It was hard to say who was at fault. No matter. Large animals equaled terror in her heart. It made going to the Calgary Stampede quite challenging. Her heart raced anytime she got close to the agricultural exhibitions building. So she avoided them by getting drunk in the Cowboys tent.
Somehow, it worked.
“You’re probably right. I mean, who would want to wake up every morning on a beautiful piece of land, watch the sunrise, and see all these sexy cowboys working? Sounds awful,” Simone deadpanned.
Colette’s ears perked up at the image. Okay, so maybe it wouldn’t be all bad.
“Um, do they need a contract lawyer?” Cam offered. “I’m applying.”
“Shut up, you horny goat,” Simone snarked. “You’ve got plenty of relationship prospects around here. Remember velvet robe guy?”
Cam adjusted his collar. “That guy was so hot. But way too serious. I half expected him to pull out a pipe and smoke it at any moment.”
“Don’t make me say it, Cam,” Simone warned.
“I don’t want to hear it, Simmie,” he retorted, rolling his eyes.
“If I can be in a relationship, so can you,” Simone said in a sweet singsong voice.
“Can you two focus for a fucking minute? We’re talking about my future here. You’ve been to the ranch. Do you really think I could live there?” Colette asked, slipping her hand in the bag of chips. Snacking helped her with thinking and making life-altering decisions.
“I mean, it could be fun, right? A change of scenery. You could help clean up the mess in their finances. The last accountant kind of left in a hurry, and I think there’s a disaster there now.
If you hate it, you could do it for a few months while you apply for jobs in Calgary.
You’ll still be close enough to go for interviews.
Roger’s grandfather would understand, I’m sure.
Once your dream position comes up, they could hire someone else.
It’s a win-win. You get to work while you figure out your next move—and the King family gets the help they need in the meantime.
” Simone tilted her head, waiting for Colette to respond.
It was a win-win.
Another addition to her résumé while she waited for her dream position to come up.
If there was one thing that turned her on more than the prospect of cowboys, it was the idea of a mess to clean up. Tidy up the finances and be gone by the end of tax season. If she got lonely, she could always visit the city on weekends and stay at her apartment.
Perhaps the quiet of the country would give her the space she needed to think.
Evaluate her life to figure out what she wanted.
Being an unemployed thirty-year-old with zero relationship prospects made her think she had a lot to figure out. What was she doing to work toward her ambitions? She had goals, but was she going to meet them by stagnating?
When she was younger, it was easy to see the goals.
Finish high school, get accepted to university.
Finish her degree. Get a job. Maybe get married and have kids.
Nowhere in that plan was there a “get laid off” and “stay single and living in a dingy apartment.” She loved her friends, but she hardly felt like she was building a life or planting roots.
Simone and Cameron both came from wealthy families.
Their lives had a certain polish to them.
They were both living their dreams, it seemed.
Was Colette living her dream? Her gaze floated to the popcorn ceiling again.
Was there a popcorn ceiling in her dreams? Absolutely not.
“Totally up to you,” Simone said, breaking into her thought spiral. “Cam, start the TV. I want to see Colin Firth in a wet shirt, stat. Then I want us to discuss who wore it better, him or Anthony Bridgerton.”
With a serious nod, Cameron took the remote and settled on the ground at their feet, stretching out his long legs.
“Thanks for putting my name in the running, Simmie. I’ll think about it,” Colette said, digging in for another handful of chips. Crumbs dropped onto her chest, and she didn’t even care. She was fully in her loser phase.
But Simone had gotten her thinking.
Could she live in the countryside? She was so focused on the prospect that she barely paid attention to who wore the wet shirt best. Could this city mouse become a country mouse?
They finished a couple of bottles of wine, and after a very serious discussion, everyone agreed.
A wet shirt on a man was always a good thing, but there could only be one winner.
Anthony Bridgerton, duh.