Page 7 of Making Home with You (The Rockport Beach #3)

Sarah

I’m lying in bed staring up at the ceiling wondering if I can really go back to Eddington after the few days I’ve spent here in Rockport with Finn. I know Erin has to go back to work soon; her break ending in a few days, and I can’t possibly survive without my stupid job at the bar.

It’s early, a just a little after seven in the morning when my phone starts to vibrate on the nightstand. When I glance at the screen it’s an unknown number and as much as I know nothing good usually comes from that, I answer it anyway.

Picking my phone up I answer with a clipped, “Yes, hello?”

“Um…” the caller pauses and then asks, “Is this Sarah Summers?”

“Yes it is. May I ask who’s calling?”

“This is James Miller from the human resources department of Bolton and Fisher. I’m calling in regards to the resume you submitted.”

“Oh, yes, yes. I’m so sorry. What can I help you with?”

“We are interested in having you come in for an interview.”

Before he can give me any details, I answer, with a far too desperate, “Yes.”

He chuckles a bit and then proceeds to ask me if it would be possible for me to come in today, giving me the time and the people I will be meeting with.

Shocked by the quickness, but still excited in general, I agree to an interview at two p.m. today. Not only is this amazing news because I haven’t been able to get an interview, it means I might get to extend my stay in Rockport a little bit longer.

Just as I’m about to confirm the time and hang up, the man on the other end adds, “Oh and Miss Summers, unfortunately the job you applied for is no longer available, and although you are probably over qualified, the only position we currently have available is for an assistant to the Vice President of Sales. Will that work for you?”

“Yes,” I answer quickly not caring one bit.

“We were impressed with your resume and since we are a rather large corporation, there should be room for advancement in the future.”

What this man doesn’t know is that I honestly don’t care. I just need a job at this point… anything to get me out of Eddington.

“Great,” I add, more than thrilled with any opportunity.

“Wonderful. We’ll see you today at two o’clock.”

“Thank you. I’m looking forward to it.”

I want to scream out loud, dance like an idiot, but over everything else I want to call Finn and tell him.

We talked quite a bit last night over dinner about my need to get out of Eddington and find a job. It isn’t just that I’m living with my parents, but that I feel useless. I have two degrees and I’m tending bar in my hometown.

After processing everything, I’ve now just realized I’m in Rockport with a couple of sweaters, a pair of jeans, some leggings and snow boots. I can’t go on a fucking job interview today. What the hell was I thinking?

I can hear someone moving about in the kitchen and I pray it’s Erin because I need her help right now. If it’s not her, I’m waking her up.

I haul ass into the kitchen, my bare feet sliding on the wood floor as I practically slide my way in there.

Ryan is sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal. Gross, I hate oatmeal. And Erin is pulling a stack of frozen pancakes from the microwave.

“Erin,” I practically shout as I find myself trying not to plow into her.

“I need your help.” My words come out as more of a pleading whine than I planned.

My excitement is now turning to anxiety.

“I have a fucking job interview today,” I tell her, wanting to grab her and shake her because I need everyone in this room to understand the importance of this.

“Fucking finally,” Ryan shouts out, slamming his hands down on the table, but he’s totally making fun of me.

I turn to him, “Listen, you shithead, it’s not like I haven’t been trying.” I glare at him and he smiles back at me, giving me a nerdy thumbs up.

“What do you need?” Erin asks, ignoring Ryan’s smart-ass comment. “I should have something you can wear, but the shoes are probably going to be an issue.” She looks down at her feet and then mine, with hers clearly being much smaller.

She ushers me into her bedroom, leaving Ryan sitting at the table uninterested in all of it.

After sorting through Erin’s closet for at least an hour, the two of us finally settle on a black pencil skirt and a cream-colored short sleeve chiffon shirt and I breathe a sigh of relief. Even though I know her shoes won’t fit, I still try to cram my feet into her shoes.

“Erin,” I wail. “Why are your feet so tiny?”

“I don’t know. Why are yours so big?”

“They’re not. I wear a size eight. Yours are freakishly small!”

“Whatever,” she says dismissively and I begin to panic all over again. All I brought with me are a pair of snow boots, which won’t even look decent, let alone good, with what I’m wearing.

I stand in front of the full-length mirror in Erin and Ryan’s bedroom, examining my feet, which look like a five pound sausage crammed into a two pound casing, wondering if I can just suffer through. But with each shift of my feet, they grow redder and puffier.

I run my hand through my hair as I try to figure out just what the fuck I’m going to do. At this point my only option is to slip on the boots and stop along the way and hope I can find something.

I look over at Erin, my face in full on stressed-out mode and my thoughts scrambled. I don’t know why I can’t seem to pull it together. Normally this wouldn’t be a big deal, but I really want this job and this snafu is not what I need at the moment.

“Relax,” Erin says as she picks up her phone. “I’ll text Kelsey and see what size shoes she wears. Maybe hers aren’t so freakishly small.” She pauses and air quotes my words back to me and I flip her a quick middle finger, which makes her flip me off in return and laugh.

Erin’s phone chimes and she smiles.

“You’re all good, sweets. Head over to Kelsey’s, she’ll take care of you.”

When I pull into Kelsey’s driveway, she’s waiting by the front door with two pairs of heels in her hands: one deep red patent leather and the other basic black.

“Your choice,” she says, holding them out to me. “But personally, I’d go with the red.”

“Red it is,” I say, taking them from her hand and thanking her. “I owe you!” I yell as I slip the shoes on mid jog back to my car.

“Nope,” she says, kindly. “Good luck today.”

I climb back in my car, smiling and feeling pretty good about the interview and myself, but all of this has made me realize how much I miss having friends nearby.

Most of my college friends are spread out across the country and anyone I was friends with in high school has long since left Eddington.

Being with Erin and Kelsey over the last few days has been something I needed, and adding Finn to the mix has been a bonus.

Even though it is broad daylight and there’s a possibility I’ll blow our cover, I text Finn and tell him I’m stopping by the station to see him.

Me: You at the station?

Finn: Yep. Why?

Me: Ok if I stop by for a quick second?

Finn: Yeah. Everything ok?

Me: Yes. Pulling into the parking lot now

Finn meets me at the door, letting me in and taking me back to his office. The elderly lady manning the front desk gives me a kind smile and goes back to the scarf she’s knitting.

This place is literally like a scene from an idealized small town TV series just like Eddington.

It’s a rare occurrence to have any sort of crime spree or murder happen so the station runs itself like a family owned business.

Anyone can come in; there’s no high security, no officers checking people in, no bulletproof glass. Just someone’s grandma greeting people.

“What are you doing here?” Finn asks, and I catch a bit of excitement and nervousness in his tone.

“You ever see Jaws?” I ask, my question throwing him for an even bigger loop than me showing up here sort of unannounced.

“Of course. Who hasn’t?”

“She’s like your Polly,” I say, motioning to the front desk. “Did she give you the report about the kids karate-ing people’s picket fences?”

Finn laughs, and it’s deep, echoing in his small office. Something about the way the receptionist peeks in through his office window tells me his laugh is uncommon, that his seriousness is what he shows the world. It’s a side of him that most don’t get to see and I love it.

He shakes his head at me and again asks, “What are you doing here, Sarah? You just here to give me shit?”

“Nah, but it’s fun, isn’t it?” I wink at him and he smiles, his whole face lighting up, making my stomach feel like it’s filled with butterflies. He’s so fucking gorgeous, and even more so when he’s happy.

“Everything’s fun with you,” he says and I swear my heart stops for a second.

I almost forget why I’m even here, my face flushing and my heart beginning to race. Then Finn says, “You look really nice. Are you going somewhere?”

“I have a job interview in Boston in a few hours.”

“Seriously? That’s amazing news.” And again I see his face light up like he’s genuinely happy for me.

He takes a step toward me, and then stops, pausing momentarily as if he’s debating something and then he pulls me into his arms. He leans down and kisses me hard, but it isn’t desperate or needy.

What radiates from his kiss is his excitement.

“Congratulations,” he whispers, his forehead resting against mine. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Thank you,” I murmur back. If he’s this supportive and excited about my interview, I can only imagine how he’ll be if I actually land this job. “I’m going to head to Boston in just a bit, but I wanted to stop by and tell you.”

“I’m glad you did.”