can miss things we’ve never had, Holls.”
A hollow ache moved through her and she closed her eyes. “I’m okay. I promise. I’ve got a place to live and work I enjoy. I make enough money to pay my bills and have a little left over. That’s more than many people our age can say.”
“Okay,” he said, a tired note in his voice. “But panic station promise me you won’t leave WorkAround yet, that you’ll give it another chance? Don’t let one bad interaction with a coworker chase you away from your office. He’s just a guy. Don’t give him that kind of power in your life.”
She took a deep breath, the dread of going back and facing Jasper tomorrow beating through her, but her gut knowing that Cal was right. She’d made this plan for a reason. She didn’t want to go back to square one. And she didn’t want to run home. She rubbed her hand over her forehead, a headache forming there. “I promise.”
“Good,” Cal said, obviously relieved. “And I’m going to hold you to it. I’ll be driving down to hella good New Orleans in a few weeks. To hug you. To hang out. To get you drunk so we can make bad decisions together. And as part of that trip, I also expect to get a full tour of your office because you will still be working in it.”
The thought of having Cal in town lightened her mood a little. “Anyone ever told you that you’re a bossy friend?”
“Nah, just a rock god, but I can poker face add that to my business card.”
She rolled her eyes. “Goodbye, Cal.”
“Goodbye, my panic station chicken.”
“Hey,” she said, eyes narrowing. “That was no tic.”
He was chuckling when he ended the call.
Hollyn shook her head and got up to pull her dinner from the oven. She only had a few minutes before she needed to head out. She had two spots to check out tonight. Thursday through Saturday was usually the busiest part of her week, and she wanted to pack in as much as she could.
She’d been looking forward to tonight. There was an eighties drag show that she’d heard great things about, and that was first on her list of stops. But the call with Cal had left a knot in her stomach.
Mainly because he was right. She hated when he was right.
No matter how awkward it would be to face Jasper again, she couldn’t walk away from something she’d worked so hard to attain. Getting an office at WorkAround had been a huge accomplishment for her. It was one step closer to the kind of life she dreamed of. She didn’t want to have to work from this little kitchen table or, worse, move back to her hometown with her well-intentioned but hovering mother. She liked having a reason to get out of her pajamas in the morning. It had felt like progress.
She straightened her spine like she was doing one of her yoga videos on YouTube and made a vow. Tomorrow she would go back to WorkAround, and she would order her damn decaf from Jasper. If she could eke out an apology, she would. If she couldn’t, she’d deal with him thinking she was rude.
She could do this.
She pulled out her journal while she ate dinner and scrawled a title on a fresh page. Days without a panic attack. She drew square number one and hoped she’d be able to mark an X there tomorrow.
Chapter Four
Jasper should not be looking at the theater-for-sale info that Fitz had emailed him. He absolutely one hundred percent had lost his damn mind. He should throw his phone in the coffee grinder. He clicked on a photo of what used to be a vaudeville theater in the twenties and then a one-screen dollar theater in the nineties but had been shut down and left empty since. Well, the ad read former dollar theater, but it probably meant former porn palace. The part of town it was in had only just started to become a section you could walk in after dark without ending up on the nightly news. He’d spent his first few years of life in an apartment not far from there.
Jasper zoomed in, trying to see more detail in the photos. The place was definitely run-down. Stephen King could set a movie in it. But it had retained some of the original details with its decorative moldings and arched entryway. It was no Saenger Theatre. For one,