Listen to me. I sound like Darlene now, going on about the Universe as if it actually has a say in what happens to us. Although after everything that’s happened recently, I almost believe it. At least a little bit.
“I upgraded us to first class,” he says, breaking the silence in the car.
“Really? How did you manage that?”
“There were two seats available on the redeye, so I snagged them. They’re not together, but at least we can sleep on the flight home.”
“That sounds lovely,” I say. It really does, because tomorrow, everything will be back to normal. Work. The snow and cold. Bad drivers and worse moods. I pull out my phone, realizing I haven’t checked my email in a couple of days. Not that it really matters, if Daniel needs anything from me, he always either texts or tells me in person. At least he used to.
I’m surprised, but not when I see an email from him. Is this how we are doomed to communicate now?
I open it up with a begrudging sigh, preparing myself for whatever it is.
“Is everything all right?” Ash asks as I read the first few lines.
Actually, that’s all the email is. A few lines. I instinctively scroll down, thinking maybe there’s more to it, but there’s not. Everything he wanted to say, he typed out in two neat sentences. Short. Sour. Concise.
“I got fired,” I say, not realizing that I actually said it out loud until Asher responds.
“What? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. It’s in an email. From Daniel,” I say.
“What does it say?” he asks.
“Dear Miss St. James. We regret to inform you that, after careful consideration, your position as a server at Silver Spoons Dining Experience has been terminated. We believe this is in the best interest of everyone involved. Best wishes on your future endeavors.”
Ash’s eyes ping-pong between me and the road in front of him. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” I say. “Signed, sealed, and permanent. I am officially unemployed.”
I look out the window so that Ash can’t see my face. I know my cheeks are flushed, and there are hot tears in my eyes. If those tears spill over, I don’t want him to see it.
How could Daniel do this? I know it’s just a waitress job, but at the same time, it’s not. I have regulars and a section that stays busy all night long. I make pretty good money. Depending on the night, I leave a lot of my shifts with anywhere between $150 and $400 in my pocket. Starting over somewhere else, most likely without a good review from my past employer, is a death sentence.
I spend the next minute and a half thinking about my bills, how long my savings will last, and wondering if my wedding dress is returnable. Meanwhile, Ash has been looking back and forth between me and the road the entire time.
“No, you’re not,” he says after a long moment while I silently spiral.
“No, I’m not what?” I ask, my voice cracking more than I hoped it would.
“You’re not unemployed,” he states, and I let out a bitter laugh.
“Except I’m pretty sure I am. The last time I checked, that was the definition of the word terminated.
“Harper,” he says with enough directiveness in his tone that I turn my head to look over at him. “I’m offering you a job.”
“You are?” I ask.
“Yes,” he laughs. “This is me. Right now. Offering you a job.”
“Where?” I stutter. “Doing what?”
“I happen to have an opening that I think you will be very good at,” he says. I hold my breath. Is he for real right now? Was all that time I spent with him these last couple of days making drinks and showing off my bar skills a low-key interview that neither of us could have predicted would come in handy.
“It’s at the office, actually,” he says, and I deflate a little bit.
“Oh,” I say.
