I learned a long, long time ago never trust a soul on earth. People will do anything and everything to get ahead in life, even throwing their friends under the bus, without hesitation. I’ve seen it happen a million times. I’ve watched my mom’s work friends do it to her for promotions.
I am under no illusion that Bethie won’t do it to me too. But, I have to admit that it feels nice to have at least one friendly face in a town full of strangers.
“Me too,” I say, giving her a small smile.
“See you Monday morning, and I’ll have a coffee for you when you get to work. What do you like?”
“That’s too much,” I say, shaking my head.
Bethie paid for lunch already and adding more to that, to someone that she hardly knows? I can’t accept it, I just can’t.
“Seriously, I get one every morning. It’s the little treat I give myself every day. Monday, you get one too.” She grins, giving me a wink.
“A blonde café latte?”
“You got it, sister.”
I exit the car, thanking her again then give her a wave as I make my way toward the front doors of my new apartment building. Digging my key card out of my bag, I swipe it quickly, then tug the door open and slip inside. I’m careful not to let anyone in behind me.
Call me paranoid, but this is the one thing that I am not excited about in my new life. A locked-up building, where anyone can slip inside, and I can’t just get out of. It reminds me of being paralyzed by that drug, of being locked inside of a bedroom upstairs, of not being able to leave.
Lifting my hand to the front of my throat, I remind myself to breathe as I climb the stairs toward my floor. I can’t let this fear, my past, dictate my future. I have had too much counseling, I have worked too hard for this to be my demise.
I will not let a nameless stranger break me—not ever.
Once I reach my apartment door, I guide my key inside of the lock and turn it, before slipping into the one-bedroom home. Once again, Holden and I are sharing a room, except it’s in our own place. We have a living room, a dining room, a shared bedroom, and a complete kitchen to call our own.
My mother lifts her head from her needlework on the couch. Wrinkling my nose, I look down at what she’s doing as I make my way toward her.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“It’s Holden’s Christmas stocking,” she explains.
“The one you started when I was pregnant?” I ask.
Her lips press together as her eyes narrow. “How did it go? We’re just not going to talk about it?”
My lips slowly curve up into a smile. “I didn’t get the job,” I say softly. It isn’t a lie, either. I didn’t get the job, at least not the one that I applied for.
“You didn’t? Then why are you smiling?” she asks as she narrows her eyes on me.
Licking my lips, they turn up into an even bigger grin. “I got a better one. I’m going to be Mr. Astor’s personal assistant. I did all the HR paperwork and I start on Monday.”
“You’re going to be Landry’s assistant?” she asks, arching a brow.
She doesn’t look like the happy mother that I expected. Instead, she frowns slightly as she watches me.
“It’s sixty thousand dollars a year,” I explain. “The childcare is only two hundred dollars a month, and that includes meals. Mom, it’s almost too good to be true, but it is, it’s true.”
I’m excited, or at least I was, until my mother’s reaction and now I just feel… deflated.
“Mom?”
She clears her throat, giving me a hesitant smile. “I’m sure it’s going to work out wonderfully,” she offers.
“Mom?” I say, my tone more of a warning.
She shakes her head once. “It’s just. You have no experience as an assistant, not like he would need. Now you’re going to be one to the owner of the company? A huge company? I’m sorry, but you’re young and beautiful, I can’t help but wonder if he has ulterior motives in his reason for hiring you for that particular position.”
“He’s married to your friend. He has grown children. I don’t think that’s the case at all. I think he’s doing an old friend a favor and I am not going to question it. Not when I have a mouth to feed and no other prospects.”