“So, Kathleen, what do you do for a living?” Josephine asked.
Topher raised an eyebrow, clearly interested in how I would handle this one.
“Oh, you know, a little bit of this, a little bit of that. You could say I’m still on the hunt for my dream job.”
Josephine was intrigued. “So, what’s the most memorable job you’ve had so far?”
“Well, there was this one time I worked at the DMV. I met so many interesting people. But I guess I wastoofriendly. They said I was making the experiencetooenjoyable for customers, so they let me go.”
Josephine blinked. “Too enjoyable?”
“Yep. I became friends with the customers, which really annoyed my coworkers. I guess I was making the DMV experience ‘too delightful.’ That’s a direct quote from my exit interview.” I shrugged, and Topher burst out laughing.
Josephine grinned. “Well, that’s a first. I’ve never heard of anyone being too delightful for the DMV.”
“Oh, it gets better.” I leaned in with a conspiratorial look. “I once tried telemarketing. You know, those calls no one likes getting? Well, turns out, I’m terrible at it. I was supposed to make a certain number of sales calls per hour, but I ended up just chatting with people. I didn’t make a single sale.”
Topher shook his head, clearly amused. “Not one sale?”
“Not one.” I grinned. “They told me I was the worst telemarketer they’d ever had.”
“Any other jobs?” Josephine prompted.
“Well, then there was a grocery store where I worked at a register, and I’d start talking with the customers. My lines ended up getting so long because I had my favorite people who kept coming back just to talk and to ask me for advice.”
Topher leaned back in his chair, looking at me like he was seeing me for the first time. “You got fired from a grocery store for being too friendly?”
“Apparently, I was ‘distracting from the core efficiency goals of the workplace,’” I said in my best bossy voice. “Which I think is just corporate-speak for ‘too chatty.’”
Topher’s expression lit up more than I’d ever seen, and Josephine was practically in tears from laughing.
“My dear,” she said, dabbing her eyes, “you’re a professional people person.”
“I guess you’re right.” I couldn’t help feeling a little proud of how much they were enjoying themselves. But then I glanced at Topher and felt a jolt—he was still looking at me. His gaze lingered just a second too long, and something fluttered in my chest before I could shut it down.
I looked away quickly, hoping his mom didn’t notice the blush creeping up my neck.
As I finished talking (after mentioning my stints as a dog walker, barista, and cashier at a big-box store), Josephine jumped in with her own stories. It was surprisingly easy to keep up the fake-girlfriend charade.
After dinner, I cleaned the dishes and excused myself to the bedroom. A strange unease crept in. I wasn’t supposed to be enjoying being part of this family dynamic and spending time with Topher and his mom. But I was. I shook off the thought and went to get my locket from my jewelry case, a small velvet pouch that had been through more moves than I cared to count.
Holding the locket always made me feel better, and I needed that comfort now.
But it wasn’t there.
I tore through my suitcase, rifling through every piece of clothing, checking every pocket, even shaking out the case’s lining. A lump was building in my throat.Where was it?
Frantic, I started pacing the room, scanning every corner, every surface. Maybe it had fallen out somewhere? Maybe it had gotten mixed up in the mess when I was unpacking. “No, no, no.”
Topher walked into the room. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t find my locket!” My voice was shaky, barely holding it together. “It’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere, and it’s just… gone.”
He stepped closer, his voice calm but serious. “What does it look like?”
I swallowed hard. “It’s small, silver, heart-shaped. It has pictures of my parents inside.”
Topher spoke authoritatively. “Let’s retrace your steps.”
