“Bertha did as Bertha does, and Jerk-Ryan came to my rescue. He even apologized.”
Jules widened her eyes. “And what did you say?”
“I said it was nice to finally meet the real him.”
“Oh, please tell me you got his number.” Her friend folded her hands in prayer. “Please, please, please. My love life is a tragedy and I need to live vicariously through someone right now.”
Her face fell as the blood drained away. She hadn’t asked for his number. What was wrong with her?
“By the look on your face, the answer is no.” Jules sighed melodramatically. “I guess we’re both doomed.”
“To being doomed with your BFF.” Elissa raised her drink.
“Fuckin’ A.”
fourteen
two years, three months, eight days to go
Another Monday morning. Another alarm going off at six. Another drive into the office. Another pot of coffee started. Another day of following in his brother’s footsteps. God, he hated this.
Only two years, three months, and eight days to go, Ryan reminded himself as he poured two cups of coffee. It had been two weeks of hell, getting up so early after years of working the evening shift. Many nights had him in bed at two, only for his fucking alarm going off a measly four hours later. He hadn’t touched the script for his podcast in two weeks.
“Thanks, Ryan,” Val said when he came out of the break room and joined her at her desk. “You’re looking better rested. Get all your shifts at Nopalitos covered?”
“Yep, I’m all yours this week.” He smiled and took a sip of the coffee.
Iz had covered his Thursday shift so Ryan could sleep and stop pissing off his dad, and Saturday had been his last night at Nopalitos. His friend never understood how much satisfaction he got from pushing his father’s buttons. Probably because Iz had a much better relationship with their parents, even after coming out.
“I gave you all the basics the last two weeks, so I’ll let you lead and step in if needed. I’m glad you’ll be here Thursday. That’s the first of the month, when rent is due, so I’ll go over what you need to do.”
Yay. And maybe he wouldn’t run away screaming from the drudgery of it all.
“And we have the initial meeting with our accounting firm today. Tax season is coming up, and the accountant will be working with your aunt and you to gather all the required paperwork, so you need to pay attention during the meeting.”
Even more good news. Numbers. God, he hated numbers, too. What the hell had he been thinking?
Long term. Two years of this and he’d have access to his trust fund. If he had access to his trust fund, he wouldn’t have to worry about money when he finally got his podcast up and running. He’d be able to take the risks he needed to generate income from what he truly enjoyed doing. A couple of years of pulling in a reasonable salary while securing his access to his trust fund was worth it, even if he had to keep reminding himself of that fact. And keep the caffeine flowing so he didn’t die of ADHD-induced boredom.
“When is the meeting?” he asked.
“After lunch. It will take most of the afternoon. I’ll sit in so I can go over any questions you have after.”
“Thanks, Val. You’re really making this transition easy.”
“Of course. I love working here. It was hard to quit, but the job in Phoenix was a big step up for Ben. Your dad already found a job for me close to our new house with a friend of his from one of the associations he belongs to.”
“I’m glad he was able to help you.” Ryan wished his father would extend him the same grace and courtesy he did for his employees. But DeMarcos were held to a higher standard than pretty much anyone else, and Ryan had Alex. The bar was high, and he always came up short. The next two years could help him come to terms with his thorny relationship with his dad.
The morning passed quickly. He impressed Val with his understanding of the procedures she’d taught him, and she only had to correct one of the forms he filled out. With the sun shining brightly in the late-January sky, he decided to eat lunch at the park down the street and returned promptly at twelve thirty, in plenty of time before the meeting with the accountants.
A few minutes before one, the bell on the door tinkled as it opened to reveal a statuesque woman with short, steel-gray hair dressed impeccably in a navy pantsuit with a pink blouse. She removed her sunglasses as she walked in and approached the reception desk. Ryan stood to greet her.
“Good afternoon, how may I help you?” See, he could be a solid employee.
“Hello. My name is Karina Jansen. I have an appointment with Annetta Herrera and Valerie Mullins.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jansen.” Ryan extended his hand, which she shook with a firmness his father would be pleased with. “Ryan DeMarco. I’ll be taking over for Val when she leaves. I look forward to working with you.”
