And I wanted nothing to do with anyone. I couldn’t stand the thought of being touched and held. Having sex required that I be totally inebriated first.
We were each looking for something I was pretty sure neither of us would ever find.
Love.
Family.
It was a pipe dream. So we made do…feeling alone. But perhaps that’s all I could expect from life.
I didn’t deserve anything else.
**
I was having a pretty good day.
So that should have been an immediate sign that everything was about to go to shit.
My phone rang while I was throwing the ball for Murphy in the yard. Flynn was due home in a few hours, and I was making some pork barbeque in the Crock-pot. I had found that I honestly enjoyed cooking and even if Flynn still made faces when he tried something he wasn’t particularly fond of, he never said anything. And he had stopped spitting it out and refusing to eat it.
I pulled the phone out of my pocket and looked at the number, my palms instantly sweaty.
It was Lambert and Associates.
Crap.
This was about the receptionist gig. I tried not to delude myself into thinking I would be given the job. Not considering how the interview had gone but I couldn’t help but hope. It was all I had left.
I had almost no money and no prospects. I had applied for over thirty jobs and nothing had come from any of them.
I was starting to feel like this job, with the jackass Mr. Lambert, was my last option.
Last night as we sat on the couch Flynn had asked me bluntly if I needed money. I hated that my financial decencies was becoming a focal point of our relationship.
“No, I’m fine,” I had blustered, trying not to be offended.
“You don’t make much at JAC’s. I just thought you’d like some money. It’s okay. I make more than enough to give you some,” Flynn had said as though it were no big deal.
But to me it was a huge, freaking deal.
I had been taking care of myself for a long time. I didn’t like feeling as though I couldn’t support myself. I never wanted to be in a position where I depended on anyone for anything.
Not even Flynn.
“I don’t want to take your money. I get paid next week, that’ll hold me over,” I had said, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. Flynn’s arm was around my shoulders. I was pressed against his side, yet I felt cold.
Flynn didn’t say anything else. I was thankful he hadn’t voiced any more of his brutally honest opinions. We had spent the remainder of the evening watching TV, my lack of a real job not addressed again.
“Hello?” I said.
“Miss McCallum?” I recognized Wilma’s voice.
“Yes, this is Ellie McCallum,” I answered.
“This is Wilma Hindgardner from Lambert and Associates. How are you?” she asked and I wanted to groan. Did we have to play painfully awkward chitchat? Just tell me if I got the damn job already! I didn’t see the point of asking someone how they were doing when you really didn’t give a shit.
“I’m fine,” I said, not bothering to ask her the same.
Wilma cleared her throat and thankfully decided to forego small talk and get straight to the point.
