“That’s not his choice to make, Erica,” Melissa said.
“I know, but I agree with him. We’re thinking about starting a family, so I think I’ll put my career on hold for a year or two.”
“If that’s what you want, go for it,” Melissa said, her words were flat.
Our food eventually made it to the table. I didn’t peek at my friends’ plates. The smell alone was tantalizing. I focused on the mountain of vibrant colored vegetables on mine. I took a forkful of plain, steamed spinach to my mouth and chewed while scrolling through my phone. I scanned through my texts and lastly, checked my emails. One stood out from all the rest.
Subject: JOB INTERVIEW INVITATION
Dear Miss Garza,
Thank you for applying to Collin Books.
Your application for the Entry Level Accounting position stood out but unfortunately, the position is no longer available. However, we do have an opening for a bookkeeper and we would like to invite you for an interview if you are interested.
If interested, we would like to conduct your interview sometime next week. The interview will last approximately 40 minutes. You’ll have the chance to discuss the position’s responsibilities and learn more about our company.
Please let me know if any of the following slots are favorable to you.
Monday 3/3, 3:30 p.m.
Tuesday 3/4 9:00 a.m.
Tuesday 3/4 4:30 p.m.
If none of these slots work, let me know and we can try to arrange a better date. Looking forward to hearing from you soon.
Best Regards,
Vincent Collin
At least there’s some good news for today. I quickly fired off a response.
Subject: Re: JOB INTERVIEW CONFIRMATION
Dear Mr. Collin,
Thank you for extending me the offer of an interview for the Bookkeeping position. I confirm that I will be present for the interview on Monday 3/3, at 3:30 p.m. I am very enthusiastic about the offer and assure you that I will do my best to utilize the given opportunity.
Yours truly,
Christina Garza
“Why do you have a toothbrush and toothpaste in your bag?” Erica asked all of a sudden, pulling my attention from my phone.
After my episode at the bakery, I ran to the store and bought them. I stiffened but straightened my spine to not give anything away. “Why are you going through my bag?”
“I was looking for lip balm.”
Erica was aware of my old habits but Melissa wasn’t, and Erica couldn’t possibly think that I was in a bad place because I wasn’t. I slipped but it wouldn’t happen again. I had everything under control.
I lifted my gaze and stared into her big, blue eyes. “I didn’t like the one you guys put at the house so I bought those.”
She stared back with a piercing glare that told me she wasn’t being fooled. “The toothbrush is wet.”
“And now it’s full of germs.” I grabbed it from her hand and tossed it into my bag.
“What’s the big deal, Erica?” Melissa said, ignorant of the meaning of the toothbrush. “It’s normal and hygienic to brush your teeth.”
I peeled my eyes from Erica’s accusing ones and looked down at my salad. I tossed it around, not letting my mind focus on the guilt I felt for lying to Erica. But I regrouped quickly. Soon Erica and Melissa fell into their monotonous housewife talk. It was my time to bounce. The salad wasn’t good anyway.
“I have to go,” I pushed back my chair. “I have to meet my mom.”
“Tell her we said hi and I’ll stop by during the weekend,” Melissa said.
“Sure.” I avoided looking at Erica and walked out replying to a few other texts.
Almost by the exit, I crashed into something or someone and dropped my phone. I crouched to pick it up when a large palm beat me to it. I looked up and smirked. A tall, green-eyed and very blond man, with a body that could only be obtained by spending several hours a day in the gym, held my hand to assist me up.
“I’m sorry.” He hesitated before returning my phone, giving me a sly smile. Mischief danced in his irises. He stretched out his bulky arm with my phone in his hand. “Here you go.”
I reached for it, but he pulled away and typed something on it only before he handed it back to me.
“Thank you,” I said.
“It was nice bumping into you.” He spun and strolled down the street. I watched his tight ass move beneath the faded denim. Only when he was almost out of sight did I snap out of my daydream and gazed at the phone.
He saved his number and sent a text to himself.
Aaron: This is the number of a gorgeous girl you met this afternoon. Call her tonight and ask her out.
Comments like those were the main reason I had random sex with tall, hot guys like him. They always had something nice to say because they wanted to get laid. And we all believed lies when they were delivered in the form of compliments.
Christina: Sorry Ma, can’t make it today. But I’ll see you soon.
Chapter Five
Ezra
Igot back into the office, slumped down in my chair, leaned back and cranked my neck hard over. The blinds were open, the sky from the office window was deftly blue and cloudless—so bright it looked solid.
My mind wandered to Christina and the way her entire body reacted with fury when she spoke to me at the bookshop. Her eyebrows pulled down together. Her glaring eyes shot flames of bitterness. She was flushed and the veins in her neck throbbed. She was purposely trying to hurt me or evoke a reaction from me and I caved calling her a bitch. I shouldn’t have. I knew better, but a lot was going on, and I lost control.
Exasperated, I sat up straight.
“What’s up with you?” Sienna asked. She stuck out her tongue, pointing to the sketchpad on my desk. “Is it the owner of the eyes you draw?”
A growl left the back of my throat.
I had two things I did well—besides helping drug dealers launder money—one was dancing and the other was sketching.
I tore off all the pages from the pad with drawings on them, crumbled the papers into a ball and threw them in the bin by my feet. Sienna was referring to the sketches I used to make of Melissa. They have been there for a while and I forgot to discard them.
“Why are women so complicated?” I posed the question to no one in particular.
“We’re not,” Stacie said, tilting to look at me. “At least I’m not.” Frank snorted but kept his head down. “Do you have something to say?”
“Nope,” Frank responded. “Not at all.”
“That sound you made was definitely something.”
Frank sighed and sat on his desk where we could all see him. He was a tall African-American with broad shoulders who, according to Sienna and his fiancée, had a smooth smile. “Y’all are never clear about what you want. If you’re mad say you’re mad. Don’t go around bitter-faced and murmuring in the corners, come out and say, ‘I’m pissed at you.’”
“We do, you guys don’t listen,” Sienna said.
“I mean, say it with words,” Frank explained. “Ver-ba-lize your feelings.”