“I wish there was anythinganyof us could do. I had hope at one point that it might all blow over, but like I said, it was just the tip of the iceberg. And now that everything’s coming out? Word is already starting to spread amongst our clients, and they’re dropping like flies. This isn’t the type of storm we can hunker down and weather, unfortunately.”
It goes quiet again.
“It goes without saying, of course, that I’m here for a reference whenever you need me.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll be in touch in the next couple of days with more details.”
The line clicks off, but I keep the phone next to my ear, staring at Grams’s garage until my eyes force me to blink.
Once I’ve textedCat to let her know she doesn’t need to drive me to the ferry, I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to feel.
I should be devastated. I should be angry. I should be…on a plane.
It’s not like I couldn’t have still flown home. I may not have a job anymore, but I have an apartment, friends, and family there.
But if Insight doesn’t need me right now, what’s the point? That was the reason I was heading home—to get back to my job. My sole purpose in calling Meredith was to ask her for permission to stay in Sunset Harbor longer. And she definitely signed off on that.
The initial shock has worn off, and now I just feel…weird. I should be feverishly job hunting right now, if nothing else, right?
Yes. I should be.
I grab my laptop to start scouring the web for listings in my field. But once I get to the search parameters, I pause. Do I look for something near my apartment? Mia and I have been living together for a while now, but she’ll be moving in with Austin after their wedding, which means I either find something new or pay the full rent on my own, which I don’t want to do. I’ve got enough saved up to get me by for at least six months if needed, but I’d rather not put a massive dent in my savings.
Which means I need to search for a new place to liveanda new job. Andthatmeans I can widen my search to a larger area. I scroll out on the map, and the search radius goes from encompassing a small part of LA to almost the entire county.
I scroll even more until it covers Nevada and parts of Arizona and Utah.
Before I know it, the radius includes the entire US and parts of Mexico and Canada.
“Too big,” I whisper as little purple dots pop up all over the country, each one representing an open position.
I can’t help being intrigued by what my options might be in Boston or Baton Rouge or, hey, what about Cabo? I don’t speak Spanish, though, so that one’s probably out.
My gaze roams over the map, fixing on a spot in Florida, not far from Sunset Harbor.
“Don’t be crazy, Gemma,” I say. But I’ve already clicked on it, my eyes roaming over the salary details and experience requirements.
I slam the laptop lid shut. I can’t do this right now. I need some time to process things first, to unwind. It’s a lot to take in. What do I do instead, though?
A sense of freedom makes my skin tingle. No one knows my real whereabouts. And I think I’d like to keep it that way a bit longer.
I wakein the morning to a dead laptop beside me. It must have slid off my lap whenever I dropped off in the middle of the Turkish drama series I got sucked into.
I grab my phone, which is also dead, then flip off the twisted bedcovers and go find my packed charger. As soon as it powerson, a string of texts from Mia come through, wondering if I had to sleep at the office.
I blow out a breath, then tap her contact to fill her in on everything. Well, not everything…certain details are withheld based on lack of relevance.
Mia is horrified—about Insight, about my impending job loss, about the fact that I feel the need to remain in Sunset Harbor. But when I explain everything about Grams and the house and Eugene, she agrees that it’s for the best that I canceled my flight.
“Gosh, Gem,” she says. “How long do you think you’ll have to stay? I’m so sorry.”
Weirdly, I’m not. I’m almosttoookay with it. “I’m not sure. I’m heading to the city offices soon to see what I can find about the property line. I’ll be working on that nonstop because, from what Eugene said, once that matter’s settled, we’ll have ourselves a contract. And apparently, the buyer plans to pay cash, which means the deal could close pretty soon—within a couple weeks.”
“Basically ideal.”
“Yeah. I mean, what wouldreallybe ideal is if Mr. Wallace were a forty-year-old family man with a boatload of cash, envisioning a happy place for his three young children to grow up instead of a money-driven investor planning to make the place unrecognizable. But we can’t have everything, right?”
