pride than that.
Still, I leave a message. Not because I’m so anxious to see the h-o-t contractor Angela said was available but because I could use the good deal she mentioned. Bonus point, it’s one more thing I can cross off today’s to-do list.
I put Jimi in reverse and slowly back out of the parking spot, then head to Aunt Maggie’s, still reveling in the joy of actually having accomplished something today.
Normally, I’m not a big list person, but I have to admit that right now, there’s something really satisfying about crossing through number one—get trash bags. If I can also cross through number two, find a contractor, then the day will have a good shot at being a win, despite its inauspicious beginnings.
I could really, really use a win right now.
I decide to bite the bullet and scribble one more item on my to-do list: find a job. And immediately wish I hadn’t as panic squeezes my chest like a vise. I take a deep breath simply to prove to myself that I can and blow it out slowly—just like all those mindful apps tell you to. It doesn’t work. Big surprise. Great, now I have the tightness in my chest and feel like a loser—as if I need the help.
Mindfulness is well and good for most things, but I’m pretty sure expecting it to take care of a cheating ex, a broken-down house, a nearly empty bank account, and a lack of job prospects is asking a little much of anything but a fairy godmother. I mean, I’m all for mind over matter, but sometimes the cold hard truth is the cold hard truth. And right now, there isn’t enough positive thinking or relaxation techniques in the universe to take away my cold hard truth.
Especially since my mindfulness app is charging me a monthly fee.
And now there’s one more thing to add to my to-do list—cancel my mindfulness app. And while I’m logged into my autopay subscriptions, I might as well say goodbye to ad-free Hulu.
I take a big sip of my second venti caramel macchiato of the day—I prefer to drink my anxiety, thank you very much—and white knuckle the steering wheel for the traffic-filled drive home.
It isn’t that I’m not used to traffic—Manhattan has a lot of it, obviously—but it’s been a long time since I had to drive myself in it. There really is something to be said for public transportation.
By the time I get home, my nerves are frazzled—thanks only to the traffic and definitely not the fact that enough caffeine is jangling around in my system to light up Times Square.
After a prolonged fight with Aunt Maggie’s extremely finicky garage opener—moving it waaaaaaay up the list of things to get fixed in this place—I pop the trunk and start carrying groceries into the house. I’m on my third trip of just trash bags alone when a red pickup truck pulls into the driveway.
Yeah, someone has the wrong house—the kind of someone who climbs out of his truck with big dick energy and the sexy swagger to back it up. Curly dark hair frames high cheekbones and twinkling brown eyes. Broad shoulders, beefy arms, and very, very large work boots complete the picture. And it’s a great picture. If only he weren’t also about seven or eight years younger than me.
“Can I help you?” I ask when that long-legged gait finally brings him to a stop right next to me.
“I’m Miguel,” he says with a slow grin that might have curled my toes if such a thing were even possible anymore.
When I continue to stare at him blankly, he raises a brow. “Miguel Perez, Manny’s brother? Angela—”
“Oh!” I exclaim as it hits me—good Lord, I’m extra slow today, even for me. “You’re Mikey!”
He grins. “Yeah, everyone calls me that.” Then he holds out a hand for me to shake. “Nice to meet you, Mallory.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” I shake his hand and reach for another few bags of groceries. “Talk about fast service, considering I only called you about twenty minutes ago.”
“Yeah, but Angie texted me as soon as she ran into you in the grocery store and told me to expect your call. And when I got your voicemail, I realized your house was just around the corner from where I’m working now, and I figured it couldn’t hurt to drop by and get a look at what you’re dealing with.”
He takes a couple of steps back and looks the house up