“Well, we didn’t.”
Jimmy’s stares at me for a moment, a crinkle between his eyebrows as he registers what I’ve said.
Then he slams my front door on the way out.
16
One night.That’s all it takes for Kale to return to his previous self. I’m finally sleeping in my own bed in my own home and I can barely sleep a wink thanks to that dog. I’d like to know Jimmy’s secret to drown Kale out because I can’t believe he can sleep through this.
Three cups of coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs later, I’m finally dressed and ready to take on my day. To do what? I guess hop on my newly returned laptop and start searching for jobs.
With an art history degree, what am I qualified for besides working at a gallery? I love gallery work and the environment. It’s what I’m made for. I’m good at it too. Being fired, though, sure has messed with my self-confidence. What if I’m not as qualified as I think I am? And if and when Idofind somewhere to apply, it’s not like I can list Janet as a reference.
This really sucks.
I thought sitting at my kitchen table, now that I’ve cleaned the place up, and working on my laptop in the clothes I normally would wear to work would help me feel better about myself. Who am I fooling? Certainly not myself. I’m miserable.
My doorbell rings and I contemplate answering it. If it’s Jimmy, I really have nothing to say to him right now. I need my space, time away from him. I got all mixed up in whatever that was between us because I stayed at his house. After last night I’ve confirmed it. Ihatethat guy.Andhis dog.
Except I don’t. But I want to. I want to go back to when I’d knock on his door and yell at him about something. I don’t even have the energy forthatanymore.
When the bell rings again (I really need to invest in a video doorbell), I decide to answer it. Maybe I’ll luck out and it’ll be some kid selling candy bars for two dollars a pop to support basketball camp or something. I could go for a big, whopping three-hundred calorie candy bar right about now.
I swing open the door and Alvin Hamilton is standing on my front porch.
Alvin. Fricking. Hamilton.
“Mr. Hamilton! What are you doing here? How do you know where I live?”
“Please, call me Alvin. And these days you can find anything with the right connections, and, of course, the Internet. May I come in?”
Alvin Hamilton wants to come into my house? It’s not like he’s royalty, but as far as the artist world is concerned, he might as well be. I should be rolling out a red carpet, paparazzi on either side flashing their cameras at him.
There are no flashing cameras, though. No groupies or fans. Just him, standing on my porch, hands in his pockets, waiting for me to invite him inside.
“Sure. Can I interest you in a cup of coffee?”
“Coffee? No, thank you. I don’t like what caffeine does to my creative sparkandit stains your teeth. I can’t damage these pearly whites.” He flashes his teeth at me and looks surprised that I’m not blinded by them. I mean, they’re nice. They’re straight. It’s not like he has Will Smith’s smile. “Do you have lemon ice water?”
“I have water but I’m fresh out of lemons, sorry.”
“That’ll do, as long as it’s not tap.”
What’s wrong with my faucet water? I know he’s a bit pretentious, but refusing water unless it’s in a bottle?
“Sorry. That’s all I have. I haven’t been to my house in a few weeks so I haven’t been shopping.”
“Really? Why haven’t you been here?”
I’m not sure why he’s interested in my life. He asked, though, so I’ll be brief. “My neighbor’s tree fell onto my house during a storm so I was staying somewhere else while it was being repaired.”
“Wow. And it’s already done. If I ever need work done around my house, I’ll need the name of your guy. That seems like something that would take a contractor a while to finish.”
I shrug. Perhaps Jimmy didn’t want me staying with him so he worked faster than normal. “Well, it’s all done and I’m not one to question someone in an area of which I have no expertise. What can I help you with, Alvin?” I motion to my table. “Please, have a seat.”
“Yes. As you may recall, I told you I’d explain why I decided against a feature at Poppy Haus. I called back to set up a meeting with you and found out you’re no longer employed there. What happened?”
I hesitate to respond. I don’t want to divulge too much information and I especially want to be careful not to speak badly of my previous employer. “It wasn’t working out.”
