Page 58 of Masters of Control

Holy crap, a job offer.

Sam stared in shock at her phone. That was not what she’d been expecting the email to say.

Ignoring the conversation Morgan and Noelle were having, she scanned the email, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to hear them, anyway.

Okay, it wasn’t exactly a job offer, she still needed to interview, but it sounded like they wanted her. Badly. Badly enough to be offering an equal salary, but… oh. Interesting. It was a multi-location practice, and they didn’t want her for Maryland. She’d need to move.

To Ohio?

Her brain froze.

Move?

Leave everything and everyone she’d ever known? She’d just started making friends. She had a boyfriend. Her dad was here, and he had a new woman in his life Sam wanted to meet.

But the cost of living would be so much less, as the recruiter pointed out in her email, and she’d be making the same amount.

“Sam? Are you even listening to me?” Noelle’s irritated question finally broke through her whirling thoughts.

Guiltily, Sam jumped in her seat, dropping her phone onto her lap. Talk about rude. She had Noelle and Morgan over for dinner, then got distracted by her phone. She hadn’t meant to. She’d figured she’d see the rejection, then get right back to dinner.

“Sorry, sorry. I got an email I needed to see. What were you saying?”

“I was saying that I think there should be some kind of hotline at the club. A phone number people could call if they have questions or concerns they don’t feel confident enough to approach someone.” Noelle tossed her hair over her shoulder, still looking put out that Sam hadn’t been listening to her.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Sam said honestly. She didn’t need to lie to make up for not listening. “I would have loved that, especially if there was also an option to text.”

A phone call could be as nerve-wracking as in-person. Going to the classes had helped, but she would have loved a hotline for some of the questions she’d had. Much less intimidating.

Noelle preened.

“See? You should talk to Patrick about it.” Morgan grinned, twirling the spaghetti noodles around her fork. They’d been on sale, as had the ground turkey and sauce, which had allowed Sam to make a pretty good spaghetti Bolognese without adding anything to her grocery budget. And she’d be able to eat the leftovers for a while. She’d splurged a little, getting fresh veggies for the salad, but everything but the lettuce had been on sale.

Noelle and Morgan seemed happy with the meal, which was a relief. She’d also realized dating Q had started helping her out too—when they had dinner at his house, he cooked enough for an army and always sent her home with leftovers. He claimed after having roommates, he’d never learned to cook for one or two people.

Which made her feel a little guilty, but at the same time, the food was good, and she knew how boring it could be to eat the same leftovers all week. That was the life she lived right now, but if she had the choice, she would love to be in Q’s position, where she could give food away, or Noelle and Morgan’s position, where they could pay for a friend’s meal without thinking twice about it.

One day.

Maybe sooner if I get a new job. In Ohio.

But I won’t have any friends there.

Were there any kink clubs in Ohio?

Getting a little ahead of myself here.

She pushed the job thing to the back of her brain.

“Anyway… what are you both up to this week?” Noelle asked, leaning her hand on her chin. “Any fun plans?”

“Same old, same old for me,” Sam said.

“I’ve been talking to Amy about going to some kind of dance class,” Morgan said. “She wants to lose some weight before the wedding.” That was hardly a new concept, but Sam was surprised when Morgan frowned and stabbed her lettuce with a bit more force than necessary. “I think her fiancé said something to her.”

“About her weight?” Noelle’s eyes flared. “That’s ridiculous. Amy’s not overweight.”

“No, but she wants to look a certain way in her wedding dress.” Morgan shrugged.