Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Paul something-or-other, the head of Gaming at the casino across from Blue, looks at his notes, his mouth pinched.
“Ah, yes, Cali.” He drums his fingers on the desk and stops when he realizes he’s doing it.
“My assistant just reached your previous employer. I apologize for having you come down, but it seems—well, it seems we can’t offer you a position. ”
What? A fly could land on my tongue and I wouldn’t be able to close my mouth. With my experience at Blue, I’m a shoo-in for the dealer position at this smaller casino.
An uncomfortably long pause ensues, while I attempt to process his words. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” I say. The interview has barely started. I haven’t even had a chance to screw up his questions. What’s going on?
Paul nods, his hands clasped together. The tic near his eye does not bode well. He doesn’t come from the same cold stock as the gaming manager at Blue. This guy can’t hide his discomfort.
“Because you came all this way, I’ll tell you that Human Resources confirmed your employment at Blue, then transferred the call to a manager.
The manager didn’t go into specifics but said he would not hire you again.
I apologize for the inconvenience, but that’s reason enough for us to eliminate you from consideration. ”
“But—but—”
I was told before I left Blue that the dissolution of my position wouldn’t reflect poorly on me, considering it was an issue of fit, as long as I wrote a letter of resignation. Which I did.
Paul stands and extends his hand. “I wish you the best, Ms. Morgan.”
My legs lift me, slowly and hesitantly as if they, too, can’t believe this. I shake my interviewer’s hand and smooth my navy skirt with trembling fingers. Face burning, I pass the receptionist at the end of the hall and press the elevator button to the bottom floor.
How will I find work if Blue doesn’t give me a decent reference? My other experience, working at a florist shop and as a tutor, won’t help me find a casino job that pays well. I got the position at Blue through a friend of my mom’s. I need the Blue reference as a stepping stone.
The next day, two more casinos call and cancel interviews. The last place asked a couple of questions and told me they’d call after my references had been checked. I haven’t heard back.
A restaurant—I’m getting desperate and have put in a call to a friend of a friend—said the same thing the first hiring manager did. That they spoke to someone at Blue who couldn’t recommend my work.
I didn’t even do anything wrong at Blue. Except piss off Drake.
Is he blackballing me? That would be just excellent.
I have no job, I’m running out of money, and my future is tenuous. Add to that the fact I haven’t heard from my boyfriend in four days, since his baby momma came back into town, and I’m ready to pitch a tent near the ice cream aisle.
I broke down and called Jaeger this afternoon. I told myself I’d wait until he called, but he hasn’t and I couldn’t hold out any longer. Jaeger didn’t answer, so I left a message, but he hasn’t called back.
Am I being dumped? Again?
Four days. Four days since Kate interrupted our date at Tao, and no word from Jaeger.
Any normal human being would assume it’s over.
I should have learned after Eric, but I can’t wrap my head around it.
Everything with Jaeger is different. I strongly suspected it was over with Eric when he didn’t call.
With Jaeger, I’m not sure I can believe it’s over until I hear it from him.
I’ve signed up for classes, but I have no way to pay for them. I refuse to mooch off my mom after she spent years financing college. I’m not even sure she could afford to help me now that she has a mortgage.
A crazed desperation drives me these days.
I make my way through my second pint of butter pecan, pondering how insane it is that I might end up attending law school after all.
At least at Harvard I have a loan established that will cover living and tuition.
All this introspection to end up right where I started?
Miserable, but surviving? There’s got to be a better way.
The front door bolt scrapes and the door opens. Gen walks in. It’s after one in the morning and she’s dressed in tight jeans and a slinky tank. Meanwhile, Tyler’s still out with one of his buddies.
I raise an eyebrow. Gen doesn’t just look beautiful tonight, she looks hot. Like, trying to impress a guy hot.
I’m instantly suspicious. How dare she not tell me she’s dating someone? “Where’ve you been? Did you go out on a date?”
For a moment she looks like a teenager slipping in after curfew. She sinks onto the couch, glaring at my ice cream. “How much of that have you eaten this week?”
I study the carton. “This week?”
She lets out a nervous laugh. “Cali…”
“Five pints?”
She pokes my belly. It’s stuffed with slushy goodness. “I think you need to cool it with that. Time for an intervention.”
That’s funny. I’m usually giving Gen interventions about the romance books she’s addicted to—trashy TV I fully support—and her poor taste in men.
My, how things have changed.
I glare at her and reload my spoon, but I can’t bring it to my mouth. I am stuffed. I’ve eaten so much ice cream these last few days I’ve grown immune to the sugar high, like a junkie.
“I don’t need an intervention. I need a job. I need a life.” My voice catches on that last bit.
“I know, hon.” She drapes her arm around my shoulders. “You’ve had some challenges, but it’s time to pick yourself up.”
“How?” I sink lower and curl into her. Being a loser sucks. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Yes you do. You’re an artist. You took all those fancy classes back in college because it was easy for you and it’s what other people would have done if they had your brains. But now you need to think about how you want to live the rest of your life.”
Gen’s been dealing with the deep stuff while I’ve lived a relatively charmed existence.
Finances were tight, but I had a smooth home life.
Meanwhile, Gen mentioned a few of the trials she grew up with living with her mom, none of them good.
It’s a wonder she came out so normal. She’s stronger and wiser than she knows.
“I have thought about what I want to do, and it’s not working out. I should just go to law school,” I mumble. “It’s not too late. I haven’t gotten around to notifying them I’m not attending.”
Gen pinches my chin and lifts my head until she’s staring me down. “Don’t throw your life away because you’re scared.” She’s mentioned her fears before and how they crippled her. She’s speaking from experience.
I thought I had everything figured out, but it was artificial, shallow. I should have focused on my own life and left Gen to deal with hers. She’s doing just fine without me meddling.
Pity party is over. I squish the top of the carton back on the ice cream and set it on the floor.
Gen watches me approvingly. She shifts and taps her toe, her chin propped on her fist like she’s thinking.
She looks pretty and powerful. My BF has changed these last two months.
She’s still her, just more confident. I thought I was confident, and maybe I am, but it was because others told me what I was doing was fantastic, not because I thought it was.
When I get out of this, I’ll be stronger and it will be genuine.
I’ll have confidence because I’m doing what makes me happy, not simply what’s expected.
“I’d bet money Drake has something to do with Blue giving you poor references,” she says. “You’ll have a hard time finding a job.”
“I know. I’ve considered he’s probably behind it.”
Gen’s eyes narrow as she gazes absently across the room. She nods as if she’s having a silent conversation with herself. “I already talked to Nessa. I’ll follow up with her. We’ll find something.”
I close my eyes and let out a weighty sigh. It’s difficult to imagine there’s a job out there that doesn’t require references and still pays enough to cover my expenses. As much as the job situation upsets me, it’s not the thing hurting me the most right now.
Gen squeezes my hand, peering at my face. “I don’t know why he hasn’t called, Cali. He’s dealing with stuff. Big stuff. Have you tried talking to your brother? Has he heard anything?”
“Jaeger’s off the grid. He’s not taking calls. He never returned Tyler’s texts.”
“Give him time. A few days isn’t long, considering what he’s going through. Don’t forget, he’s one of the good guys.”
“I know.” My eyes bead up with tears. I shake my head. “This hurts worse.”
“Worse than Eric,” she says, understanding without me having to say it.
“Losing Eric was nothing compared to this. My pride took a hit with Eric and I was sad, but this… this is like someone took an ice pick to my heart and punched a few thousand holes in it.” I buckle and lay my head in her lap.
Gen strokes my head for several seconds. “There’s only one thing to do in this situation.”
“Apply for a heart transplant?” I mumble.
She reaches over me, smashing my skull on her lap in the process. The television clicks on and I look up. She’s running through Netflix. The chalet is ancient, but it has entertainment perks.
Obviously, a man owns the rental.
Gen pulls up What Would William Pelt Do? “We ogle hot William for twelve to fifteen hours until our minds go numb.”
As solutions go, this one isn’t bad. Gen and I watch William’s abs and his dating mishaps for the next couple of hours. I end up laughing so hard my ice cream gut cramps.
Life could be worse. But I wish a few things would start working out again.