Page 44 of Fun Together (Make Romance #1)

Eli

I feel stripped down to my bones.

Walking back to the office, I’m like a zombie, running on nothing but pure instinct to follow the same paths and hallways that have become familiar to me.

But everything is wrong. I no longer see possibility in this place. I see it for what it really is to me now. A place I fell in love. A place I felt like a failure. A place I can’t make myself work or think the way I’m supposed to.

So where does that leave me?

I didn’t look back as I walked up the path, but I wanted to. Half hoping Faye would come sprinting through the grass to make her very own confession, that she’s in love with me, too.

But who would do that after being backed into a corner the way I just did to her?

I keep my focus on making my feet move, one step at a time, and head straight for Melissa’s office. While I’m baring it all, I might as well continue this honesty kick. Let’s keep this party going. What do I have to lose at this point?

I peek my head in and tap lightly on her door. “Knock, knock.”

She looks up but doesn’t stop typing as she says, “Eli. What can I do for you?”

I stall for a second to decide how to approach this conversation. “How do you do that? Keep typing while talking?”

She shrugs. “Lots of practice, I guess.”

“Impressive.” I step further into her office. “Do you have a minute?”

She rolls her chair around to face me and gestures to the chairs in front of her desk. “Sure, have a seat.”

I sit down. “I just talked to Faye.” My voice cracks on her name, and I clear my throat. “I didn’t know an email was going to her this morning, and I didn’t have a chance to speak with her before it went out.”

“Sorry about that, there must have been a miscommunication there.”

I fidget in my seat, steeling myself for what I want to say.

“Is there something else?” she asks impatiently.

“Yes, sorry. I’ve just been thinking. It’s just . . . well . . . I hate this job.”

Not exactly the most elegant way of putting it, but my chest unclenches a little after saying it, so I’m taking that tiny bit of relief while I can get it.

Her brow furrows. “You . . . hate it?”

“I really hate it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What’s going on?”

“I just don’t think this is the company for me. Or the role for me, honestly.”

“I wish you had come to me sooner. Is there anything I can do to help? We really can’t afford to lose anyone right now.”

It’s not lost on me that she says “anyone” and not “we can’t afford to lose you right now.”

I stand up. “Can you give me just a second?”

She’s so clearly bewildered by this conversation and my behavior, and I can’t blame her. But I need to check one thing before I do what I’m pretty sure I’m about to do.

“Okay . . .”

I step into the hallway outside of her office and walk over to the wall of windows that overlooks the courtyard. I dial Chris’ number.

“Hey Eli, what’s up?”

I hear dogs barking in the background. “Hey, sorry to call you while you’re working, but I had a question.”

“No worries, I’ve gotten pretty good at pretending I have an extra limb or two.”

“I’m sort of hoping I could help with that. Any chance you’re hiring?”

He lets out a surprised laugh. “Actually, yeah, I could use some help.”

“Any chance you want to hire me?”

“Yeah, let’s talk details at our game tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

I hang up and go back into Melissa’s office. “I think I’d like to quit.” I wait to feel regret after saying those words. But I feel relieved.

“Let’s not jump to quitting just yet. What about some additional training? Or a mentorship?”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think I can make it work here.”

She heaves a sigh. “That’s unfortunate, Eli. I was really looking forward to seeing how you’d grow in the company.”

The corporate bullshit never ends. They don’t care at all. She didn’t once ask what’s made me so eager to quit, she’s so focused on how this affects her. I don’t fully put the blame on her. She’s another cog in the wheel, too. But I’m tired of feeling like I’m struggling up a never-ending hill.

Also, pretty sure my job is going to be taken over by some AI bot named Janet soon enough, anyway.

I nod. “Thank you, but I think I’d like to find another path.”

After dropping my work badge off with Tom, I drive around aimlessly until I find myself parked in front of the very old house Emmett just bought.

I think it’s Victorian—white, with frilly trim around the porch. It looks a little haunted, honestly.

His truck is in the driveway, so I know he’s inside.

When I get out of my truck, I hear a saw running.

I open the front door with an ominous creak and step inside.

This is the first time I’ve seen the house, and I thought everyone was joking when they said he’d purchased what amounted to a pile of moldy planks.

But I know Emmett, and he can see the potential in it. That’s all that matters.

I move toward the sound of the table saw and find him in the kitchen. Or, what I think used to be a kitchen. I don’t want to startle him while he’s using dangerous equipment, so I wait until he stops to yell his name.

He jerks up. “Christ, Eli. What the fuck?”

“Sorry,” I grimace.

He looks confused to see me. “What are you doing here?”

I sigh. “I don’t know.”

“Bad day?”

I nod. “Bad day.”

He walks over to the side of the room and reaches down for a sledgehammer. He passes it, along with a pair of safety goggles, to me and nods at the kitchen cabinets. “Have at it.”

I love my big brother. No questions asked, he just hands me this giant tool, basically saying, Try working out your feelings on some old cabinets. I spend about thirty blissful minutes destroying things before I tire out.

I grab a bottle of water from his cooler and sit down on top of it.

He picks up the sledgehammer and knocks a shelf down. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“For once in my life, I don’t know what to say. Other than I’m officially a fuck up.”

He chuckles and gestures around him. “Look who you’re talking to. I bought this trash heap to try to prove something.”

“To prove what?”

“We all make mistakes.” He breaks down the last piece of wood that seemed to be hanging on for dear life. “Doesn’t mean you are one.”

“Fuck, man. Are you okay?”

“I will be. And you will be, too.” He places a two-by-four onto the table saw. He hasn’t stopped working once since I got here. “Everything can be fixed.”

Is he telling himself that, or me? “It just feels impossible. Like, every time I try to do something right, it doesn’t go the way it should. I try to be good at my job. I try to be a good friend. A good son. A good brother. A good person.”

“What makes you think you aren’t those things? You help all of us out so much. Especially with all the shit going on with me right now, and you stepping in to help watch Flo sometimes. She adores you.”

I shrug. I’ve never thought about any of those things as having any meaning, other than I love my family and friends, and would do anything for them.

“You just need to find what works for you. There’s nothing wrong with you. We all have to find ways to navigate life’s bullshit.” He takes off his safety glasses and massages the bridge of his nose. “Sometimes things have to break so you can build them back up again.”

I go over and give him a hug. We both linger in it longer than we ever have, like we both needed one.

“You got anything else that needs breaking?”