Page 64
“Apparently, I’m a real masochist who never learns.”
“Stay right there,” Tara said, hopping up from the table and walking around the island to the cabinet next to the sink. “It sounds like we’re going to need some chocolate for this conversation. Those were some heavily loaded words you just said. You’re holding something back, but I know how to loosen your tongue. Chocolate and salted caramel.”
Tara knew Alli well. It was, indeed, a combo that was sure to get her talking. And in truth, she was desperate to talk to someone about all of this.
Tara tossed the bag into the middle of the table, pulling out two wrapped candies for each of them.
“That’s only a start. So, what’s going on? How are you a masochist? And how is it that you never learn?”
“Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Absolutely. Start talking, missy. I’m in life-advice mode here.”
It took a few stops and starts, but eventually the whole story poured out of her, although she kept back some of the more salacious moments. Tara understood what had gone on without all the down-and-dirty details.
No one needs those.
Images of her and Sam drifted into her head unbidden. The moans, the heat, the sweaty and tangled sheets. She was getting all hot and bothered again just thinking about it. For a buttoned-up businessman, Sam knew what he was doing when it came to sex.
Now is not the time. Concentrate. You’re talking to Tara, not thinking about last night.
“Please don’t tell Brian,” Alli begged, shaking her head to dispel the steamy memories. “You know he’ll go all protective big brother, and that’s a complication I don’t need right now.”
“I promise I won’t tell.” Tara paused for a long moment before continuing. “What is it that you do need right now?”
“A new job,” Alli answered without any hesitation. “I need a new job. If Sam and I are going to make any of this work, I can’t be his assistant anymore. It’s too complicated, not to mention unprofessional.”
And Sam Winslow wasn’t the unprofessional type.
“He said he’d find you something?” Tara asked. “Because…”
“Because?” Alli prompted. “Do you think Sam is lying to me?”
“Absolutely not,” Tara assured her. “I only think that it’s not like you.”
“What’s not like me?”
“Honey, you’ve never been a shrinking violet in all the time that I’ve known you. Are you truly okay waiting around while Sam figures out your future? It’s just so out of character.”
It was out of character. She’d spent most of her life going after what she wanted, striving and planning.
“It isn’t me,” Alli admitted. “And I’m disappointed in myself. But since I lost my job, nothing has been the same.”
“I know it’s knocked you sideways,” Tara replied. “But you have to get up off the floor and start taking control again. Start punching back at life. Let them know who is in charge.”
“I’m in charge,” Alli said, nodding in agreement. Tara was right. Her little pity party had gone on long enough. “I call the shots.”
“Exactly,” Tara said, clapping her hands together and smiling. “Now, what do you want to be when you grow up?”
“A journalist,” Alli replied immediately. “It’s what I’ve always wanted to be.”
“Then make it happen. You dropped your resume off at the local newspaper and the television station, right?”
Alli had vivid memories of those interactions. While the people at the newspaper had been kind, they’d been firm on the fact that they weren’t hiring. The television station had been something else entirely. The contempt the receptionist hadn’t bothered to hide had been downright humiliating. The woman had done everything but toss the audition tape in the trash right in front of Alli.
“The newspaper made it clear they weren’t hiring, but I could still follow up with them. As for the television station, that receptionist was so nasty to me that I’m not sure I would want to work there. She looked at me like I was something that she scraped off her shoe.”
“She’s a receptionist, not the person in charge,” Tara said. “Who cares what she thinks?”
