Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Pushing aside the thought—I’m still attracted to her even though she routinely snorted Coke all over me in middle school, whenever we watched forbidden comedy specials at my house while my mom was still at work—I suggest, “At least get through the interview before you decide Paradisus is another Brain Chill waiting to happen. I think Doug and the rest of the hiring team will impress you. Have they gotten back to you with a time yet?”
She nods and takes another gulp of water. “Yeah. Tuesday. We’re going to do a Zoom call mid-morning our time, late afternoon theirs. They initially wanted to do Wednesday, but when I told them I had plans to pick up my foster cat on Wednesday, they were fine with rescheduling. So, they already passed the first test. Brain Chill didn’t give a shit about your plans. When they said jump, they wanted you to ask how high.”
“Awesome. That’s encouraging.”
Her lips pinch into a pucker below her nose.
“Isn’t it?” I press. “Or am I missing something? That doesn’t look like your ‘feeling encouraged’ face.”
“No, it is encouraging. I’m sorry, I’m just still stressed about going home.” She lifts her cell. “My mom texted to let me know my cousin Vicky and her husband are going to be joining us for dinner tonight. You remember Vicky, right? She was the Cho who made all her parents’ dreams come true.”
“The one who played the flute with the symphony and graduated high school at sixteen?”
“And graduated med school at twenty-two before deploying with the Peace Corp.” She sets her phone down with a silent gag. “She and her husband just finished a stint with Doctors without Borders in Sudan and are on their way to positions at the Mayo Clinic. Even if I were still gainfully employed, there’s no way my mom would let me make it through a dinner with Vicky without tossing all my daughter failures in my face. Now…” She drops her head down to rest on the table, adding in a muffled voice, “It’s going to be a disaster.”
I pet the back of her head. “I’m sorry. And I’m serious about the offer of backup. Just give the word and I’ll be on that train.”
She sits up, a vulnerable look in her eyes. “But it leaves in forty-five minutes. There’s no way you can make it up to your hotel to get clothes and stuff and back in time.”
I shrug. “I’ll buy new clothes by the station in Jersey. I assume downtown is still full of old-school suit brokers and salami shops?”
“More like hippy soap shops and hipster jean stores these days, but you can definitely purchase some sort of clothing there.” She perks up a little only for her shoulders to curl forward again a moment later. “But are you sure? I bet you have a long list of things you’d rather do on your first trip to the US in years than bear witness to my family dumpster fire.”
I snort. “No way. I love a good dumpster fire. We’ll grab some marshmallows to roast over the flames. It’ll be fun.”
She smiles, a shy grin that makes me want to pull her in for a big hug and promise her that she’ll never have to face another dumpster fire alone. But we’re not at a place for those kinds of promises, and if I’m getting on a train in forty-five minutes, I need to get my ass in gear.
“You have a razor I could borrow?’ I ask as I push back my chair. “I’m pretty sure your mom prefers clean-shaven guys, right?”
“She prefers Korean guys, but you’re not a guy, you’re a friend,” Jess says, putting a dent in my ego before she adds, “Besides, I think the scruff is sexy. Keep it.”
“Yeah? How sexy?” I ask, arching a brow. “‘Making out on the train on the way to Jersey’ sexy? Or ‘sleeping in your childhood bed with you tonight’ sexy?”
She laughs as she stands. “Don’t even think about it. My mom would have a heart attack if I tried to sleep in the same bed as a boy without at least an engagement ring on my finger.”
“We can get one of those. There has to be a jewelry store somewhere between here and Penn Station. I’ll Google it and call a car. You grab your bags.”
“You’re insane,” she says, starting toward her room. “You can call a car, but we’re going directly to Penn Station, do not stop at a jewelry store, do not collect even more reasons for my mother to think I should be forcibly committed. You have five minutes to get your shit together before we hit the road. And be quiet in the bathroom, Evie and Harlow like to sleep late on Sundays.” She disappears behind the door only to open it a moment later and stick her head out. “How are you feeling, by the way?”