“Stop calling me that,” I whispered. He must have heard me because he turned toward me again, delivering his last blow.
“Since this is where we part ways, that won’t be a problem.”
“Are you firing me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“You can’t fire me,” I said, stumbling over the words.
He laughed a humorless laugh. “Watch me.”
With that he turned his back on me and continued working on the motorbike in his bay. A loud sob escaped me, but I slapped my hand over my mouth.
Landon stepped forward and put his arm around me.
“Come on, sugarpie, let’s let the fire-breathing dragon stew in his own misery,” he said and led me out of the workshop.
He walked me through the office and I grabbed my things, unable to process what just happened.Way to go Stella, losing Mason and your job all in one day. You always were an overachiever.
“Can you take me to get my car?”
“Of course, just let me grab my keys and we can get out of here.”
He made good on his word and was back a few seconds later. We silently made our way to his Dodge Charger and got in. The engine purred to life, and we shot out of the parking lot. My breath hitched and I held onto the seat, hoping this car had airbags. Because I was pretty sure I was going to die if it didn’t.
“He didn’t mean it,” Landon said. I was too petrified to take my eyes off the road, so I talked to him keeping my eyes forward.
“I’m pretty sure he did.”
“He has a short temper. Give him a few hours and he’ll regret being such a dick.”
“Right. So it’s okay that he just treated me like I was less than the oil stain on the floor of his work bay?”
Landon put a hand on my arm, which almost caused me to look over to him. “Put your hand back on the steering wheel,” I told the windscreen instead. Mercifully he took his hand back.
“Of course, it’s not. I just don’t want you to give up on him. He’s a good guy.”
“He can’t just treat people like they’re disposable.”
Landon sighed and turned into the street Willa’s apartment was on. “I know, sugarplum. But don’t take it personal.”
“Landon, I know you’re his friend and therefore feel required to defend him, but sometimes people don’t need a reason for the things they do. I lived with a lunatic control freak for most of my life, and she certainly had no good reason for the things she did. I’m done making excuses, let alone accepting shitty explanations.”
Landon parked the car outside the apartment. “Stella, just don’t….”
I opened the door, shaking my head. “Stop, Landon. I’m done.”
He looked at his lap and sighed. “Okay. I get it. But please think about coming back tomorrow. I promise you, he’ll feel like shit about what he said to you.”
I didn’t answer, just got out and closed the door. Landon was still parked outside when I went up the flight of stairs to my apartment. I only heard the noise of his car engine fade once I was safely inside.
I don’t know if it was the snot running down my face, thanks to a ten-minute crying jag, or the vodka I had gulped down as soon as I was inside the apartment, but it was like a light came on and I saw clearly what I had to do.
I packed all my things that were still spread around Willa’s place and got my phone out. For some insane reason, the business card David had pushed under the door was tucked into my purse, something I did before leaving my room that morning.
It felt foolish at the time, but now I was glad I did it.
I dialed his number and he picked up after a few short rings.
