“Okay. Whose office is that?”
“Tank’s. See how he has a clear view of the front and the floor from over there?” I nod. “Let’s go back to reception, so I can show you how to use the phone system.”
Before I know it, it’s 1 PM, and when I leave PitStop, Hawk is waiting for me outside. My heart does a stupid little fluttering thing.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask him.
“I was going to walk home for lunch, so I figured we could go together.”
“Okay,” I say, suppressing the desire to tell him every little detail about my first day. “How was your day?”
“I should be asking you that,” Hawk tells me with a strange expression on his face. “Did you have a nice first day?”
“I did. Lucy was showing me around and introducing me to everyone.”
“Do you think you like it?” Hawk asks.
“It’s too soon to tell,” I tell him. “Lola said I can shadow her for two days, too, so we’ll see. It felt good, though, not to be sitting around at home, feeling useless.”
“Did you really feel useless?” Hawk asks me.
I don’t want to talk about that, so I just pop my shoulder. “Do you think DJ had a nice time with Molly?”
Hawk watches me for a while, then pulls his lanyard out from under his shirt to let us into the compound.
“Let’s find out.”
On Tuesday, the phone at work rings, and after a minute, Lucy hands the receiver to me with a big grin. “It’s for you.”
I frown in confusion. “Hello?”
“Hi, Marissa, it’s Jameela. Subhi’s wife. We met at the club party.”
“Of course, Jameela, hi.”
“Hawk told Subhi we can reach you here. I wanted to see if you were free one weekend to get our boys together for a playdate.”
My heart jumps at the thought of DJ having a little friend. “Oh my God, absolutely, thank you so much. Can you give me your cell number, and I’ll text you this afternoon?”
“Sure,” Jameela says, and when I hang up, I clutch the paper with her number to my chest.
On Wednesday, Hawk drives me to court on our lunch hour so I can file the custody forms and pay the fee, and then to the DCSS office to submit the child support request.
“All done?” Hawk asks when I come out of the building.
I nod. It’s like something died. I don’t say anything for the rest of the drive.
On Friday morning, I’m faced with the same old issue: what to wear to work. I don’t have many office-appropriate clothes, and the ones I do don’t fit right. They are all pre-DJ things.
Lucy has an amazing sense of style and looks like a vintage diva most days. She is a bigger girl, but she won the genetic lottery, so all the weight is in her breasts, ass, and thighs. Mine mostly pools in my mid-section.
I look away from the mirror. The haircut I gave myself in a moment of desperation and heartbreak isn’t easy to style either. I should ask Lucy where she gets her hair done.
When I get to work, Mushroom is there, talking to Lola.
“Hi,” I greet them.
“Hey, Rissy,” Mushroom responds breezily. “How is it going? Are you excited about working with us next week?”
