nervous,” she said. “You really don’t.”
Which was a lie, because she certainly did, and had done so her whole life, but she’d learned how to handle it well. To hide it, even. Anyone watching her would have sworn she didn’t get rattled about things.
But Chicago, feeling like she’d failed, had shaken things up a little. It was always harder to try again than it was to set out for the first time.
And, if she admitted it, Ava and Carter’s less than enthusiastic response to her new employer had her doubting things.
“Nope,” she said aloud. “Nope, nope, not today, Satan.” She flung off the covers, and went to get ready.
She swung by the coffeeshop on the way in, to get a good luck hug from her mom, and to add ill-advised caffeine to her already-jittery system.
Her mom was waiting behind the counter, steaming travel cup and a chocolate chip muffin waiting.
Ava was standing in front of the counter, leaning back against it, holding her own travel cup.
“What are you doing here?” Leah exclaimed, filled with a sudden, nearly-overwhelming burst of gladness to see her best friend.
“Mom’s watching the kids for me so I could come wish you good luck on your first day.” She grinned, and held out a brown paper bag. “She also made you lunch: roast chicken on sourdough, and homemade fries.”
“You guys.” Because not only was she nervous this morning, but liable to burst into unhelpful tears. She took the bag, and then tackled Ava in a hug that had Ava laughing and protesting about spilling her coffee.
For a minute, with Ava’s lavender-scented hair tickling her nose, Ava’s arms tight around her own much-smaller frame, she felt sixteen again. Like it was the two of them against the world – or at least just against Knoxville – and she’d always felt her most invincible when they had each other’s backs.
She pulled back, and saw Ava blink a few times, tossing her hair over her shoulder to hide it. “Go forth and account things. Make us proud.”
Leah saluted her.
“You’re gonna do great, baby,” her mom assured, leaning over the counter to offer a less-crushing, but no less warm and welcome hug of her own. She kissed Leah’s cheek as she pulled back, eyes sparkling and shiny with unshed tears. “It’s so good to have you home, I was just telling Ava.”
“Mom.”
“She was,” Ava agreed, nodding, “and I can’t second that sentiment enough.” She gave Leah another, quicker hug. “Knock ‘em dead – and I mean that literally. If Ian’s an ass, you have my permission to slap the pretentious right off of him.”
It wasn’t far to the office, but she drove there, rather than take up a valuable customer parking place in front of the shop. She parked in the new, well-lit deck behind the building, and showed her ID to the guard behind the desk at the rear entrance.
“Just a sec,” he told her, and another immaculate, gently-smiling employee – Josh, this time – appeared from nowhere and took her to have her photo snapped for an ID card.
Fifteen minutes later, still-hot ID hanging from the waistband of her skirt by a little clip, Josh led her down a hallway on the third floor, and into a wide open, well-lit space studded with open-concept cubicles; the kind with only the barest nod to privacy, and easy sightlines to encourage cooperation and collaboration. (She’d already seen it last night, online, in the training video Candace had emailed her the link for.)
It was a pretty space, with a full, open-concept kitchen along the back wall, and floor-to-ceiling windows to offer dramatic views of the streets and shops below. More plants; she was sensing a theme. And several plush couches and chairs with side tables. Breaks were encouraged, her introductory email packet had explained.
Three people were already seated at computers, more smartly dressed than her, she noticed. All of them glanced up at the sound of her arrival. All of them smiled.
One young woman waved. “Hi! You must be Leah.”
The young man nearest stood up to shake her hand.
Leah took a deep breath, told her nerves to cool it, and got started.
~*~
“Why are you so terrible at this?” Tenny asked. He lifted his arms again, feet spread on the mat, bent slightly forward at the hips, ready to strike again. “Again. Come at me.”
Evan wiped sweaty hair off his forehead, squinting against the sunlight that beat down on the back salvage lot behind the clubhouse – and scowling at Tenny. Sweat