Page 29 of Crash and Burn

9

Searching through the racks at second-hand shops was one of my favorite things in the world. The rush I got from scoring a great article of clothing or finding a high-priced item sold for cheap was invigorating. Shapes and colors and textures swirled through my head, idea after idea clamoring for attention.

Today, however, I was coming out empty-handed. My fruitless search had produced nothing but a single pair of strawberry-patterned socks. I didn't have any ideas for how to repurpose them. I just thought they were cute.

I'd almost given up when my gaze landed on a shiny gold trim peeking through a pile of clothes in the last-chance bargain bin. I pulled out the piece with wonder. It was a women's blazer, navy with gold buttons and gold trim. It was beautiful, and oddly familiar somehow. I checked the tag but it wasn't any brand I'd ever heard of.

I tried to place where I'd seen the jacket before when I finally clued in. It looked almost the same as the nautical jacket worn by the older guy who had come up to me at the photoshoot. The one who had complimented me on my outfit.

The one who had handed me his card.

I'd planned to look him up but I'd completely forgotten about it. I reached into my purse and rummaged around until I felt the sturdy business card in one of the side pockets. I looked at the embossing. All I had was a name — Cliff Carling — and a phone number.

I was even more curious now than I had been back then. I pulled out my phone to search for him online and get the scoop on who he was before attempting to contact him.

My phone rang before I could swipe to open it. It was my mom.

With a cringe that was more emotional than physical, I answered it.

"Hey Mom," I said. "What's up?"

"I'm calling to see how you're doing," she said, her voice light and pleasant. "Your father and I haven't heard from you in a while."

It certainly wasn't because I was avoiding talking to them. Of course not.

"I've been really busy with work," I told her.

"At that bar?" she asked. I could hear the judgment in her voice.

"We're a little short-staffed at the moment," I replied. "But the manager is hiring some new people soon."

"Well that's good," she said in a tone that implied she couldn't care less about the situation at the bar. "Have you given any more thought to what we talked about last time?"

"Mom, I know you want me to go back to school for something, but—"

"Janice works in the admissions department of that local college I told you about,” my mom interrupted. "She could put in a word for you if you apply for the paralegal program."

"Mom—"

"Just think about it," she said insistently. "You need to do something with your life, Elizabeth."

"I am," I told her. "I like what I do. I like working at Sin and Tonic."

"And that name…" she muttered, and I could hear the distaste in her voice. "Why don't you come to dinner next week?" she continued. "I'll invite Janice over and you can ask her some questions."

"I'm busy working," I told her.

"You get Mondays off, don't you?"

I was surprised she had paid attention to anything I'd told her about my work at the bar.

"Let's have dinner and just talk," she said smoothly. "I know you like that bar, honey, but you can't work there forever. What's going to happen when you get married and have kids? You don't want to be working until three in the morning when you have a baby to take care of."

"Mom!" I wasn't even close to thinking about kids. I wasn't married, or even dating anyone.

I might have been, if I'd ever mustered up the courage to tell the guy I was in love with how I felt but…

I shook my head internally. Now was not the time to be lamenting about my many missteps when it came to Grant.