Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Scanning our surroundings to make sure the coast is clear, she then turns back to me. “Rumor has it we’re over budget. There might be cuts.” My stomach drops.
“What rumor?”
This time, she rolls her eyes. “Lowell blabbing on speakerphone to a friend the other day.”
Job cuts? Have I assumed too much? Do I have job security, or should I consider putting a backup plan in place?
She stands with the papers tucked to her chest. “Don’t worry. We run out of money every year, so I’m not worried. Not yet.”
“Because you’re retiring.”
She perks up. “Jersey Shore, here I come.”
Mr. Meisler was right—sounds like Jersey is the retirement hotspot.
“I need to talk to Lowell,” I say, “so maybe I’ll ask him directly.”
Peggy laughs. “You do that. You do that, honey, and report back to me.”
I laugh nervously. “I don’t think I have the guts.”
“Well, neither do I. I guess we wait and see what happens.”
When she goes to the back room, I’m left with my own thoughts. Lowell is full of a lot of stuff, but insider information is usually not one of them. I bet he was just talking nonsense.
Hopefully.
But if he’s not, the thought of locking myself into a new lease with no guarantee of a job adds a new concern to the mounting pile.
I walk down the hall and knock lightly on my boss’s door. Lowell’s kicked back with his feet on the desk, and his personal phone is pushed to his ear like he’s some high-powered attorney with an incredible view of the Manhattan skyline, basically Rad, instead of working in a government-funded office in a section of Brooklyn that doesn’t get the hype like the DUMBO area near the bridge.
Annoyance crinkles the right side of his face. “What is it?”
“As you know, I have to be out of my apartment—”
“I know this.” He rolls his hand in front of him. “Everyone knows. Get on with it.”
I recoil. His rudeness and impatience smack of Steve, and my insides brace. “I still have some packing to do.”
“Hold on.”
I wait, but then he drops his face to the linoleum and shakes his head. “Not you. You need time off? You can use your lunch at the end of the day. If you need more than that, fill out the time-off request form, and I’ll consider it.”
I’m feeling stuck. My stomach already rumbles from the thought of not eating until tonight. I can’t afford time off, though. I need the money. “Can I sacrifice two lunches instead of time off?”
“Yeah, whatever.” He spins away from me in the chair, and says, “Where were we . . .? Ah, yes, so you were wearing the pink number—”
How does someone so careless and heartless end up working in a social services office? It can’t be for the money, so I’m always puzzled why Lowell is here. And since he’s my boss as well, I had another reason to move away.
I shake off his bad vibes and focus on the fact that I will be at Rad’s tonight, and technically, it’s mine now as well. At least in the short term. I’ll never be able to afford something that nice, so I’m going to savor every minute in that beautiful place.
I might even relish in Rad as well.
Who am I kidding?
I already do.
10
Tealey
My smile is instant, my heart beating faster to meet the joy I feel seeing my two best friends waiting for me. My pace picks up as I hurry toward my building. “What are you guys doing here?”
Cammie, dressed in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, waves. “We thought you could use reinforcements.”
Marlow stands in sleek white pants and a fitted black silk top, not looking like she’s here to pack. She’s holding a tray of drinks, though, so I won’t complain. “And I brought coffee.”
I readjust my bag on my shoulder and hug them. “Thanks for being here.”
The three of us have been best friends since we were assigned to the same tour group on the first day of freshman orientation at New York University. Although we couldn’t be more different, we clicked, and as the saying goes, the rest is history.
Cammie grabs the handle of the door. “When you texted that you’ll miss a few lunches to finish,” she says, punching in the code, “we figured we could knock it out quicker together.”
“There’s not a lot left to pack, but I appreciate you being here.”
Marlow wraps her arm around me. “We’re always here for you.”
Although I know she won’t pack much, her being here, with coffee I might add, makes the chore not so bad. “Mocha latte?”
“You know it.”
We file up the stairs, and after I change clothes, I come out of the bathroom and say, “I’m moving in with Rad,” more for Marlow since Cammie already knows.
Marlow’s eyes widen, and then she smiles. “You are?”