Page 23 of More than Fiction (Misty Springs #1)

Sophia

It had been five days since I submitted my resume to Buescher-Jones Publishing and four days since I kissed the COO of the parent company that owned them.

Corbin hadn’t returned to Boomer's any other nights I worked, and I would only occasionally get heart-rate-inducing, pulse-pounding glimpses of him at Elijah’s.

Since our lobby was really only for those checking in and out or for anyone who wanted to partake in the breakfast buffet or theme nights, I wouldn’t see Corbin unless he needed something from the staff.

I found myself hoping he would need extra towels or have a clogged drain in his shower to complain about, just so I could have a reason to talk to him again.

It was a rare Friday when I had the day off from Elijah’s. I had a shift at Boomer’s later, but that wasn’t until six. My mind was on the verge of a dizzy spell every thirty seconds.

I glanced at my phone for the thirtieth time today—hoping for an email that wasn’t junk mail—as I walked to Lana’s coffee shop.

“I have good news for you.” Lana grinned wide as I approached the counter, already reaching for a plastic cup to make my favorite drink.

My friends and I played a game with Lana. She refused to take our money for drinks, but we wanted to support her, so we had to find clever ways to pay her. Sometimes, it was as easy as throwing cash in the tip jar, but I didn’t see it at the moment.

“Good. I need good news,” I whined .

“Andi was in here this morning,” she shouted over the grinding of beans, her wall of inky dark hair facing me.

“Andi, Andi? The woman who holds the fate of my life in her hands, Andi?” I shouted back, embarrassed when the grinding stopped, but my voice was still loud, disturbing the handful of patrons trying to enjoy an early lunch in the shop.

Lana giggled. “Yes, that Andi. She ordered a Sophia to drink.”

I stood there quietly, waiting to understand what that meant. Curious news, I thought. Interesting news, yes, but not good news.

“What is a Sophia ?”

She gestured to the cup in her hand. “I must have made two of your favorite drinks that day you ran into each other. She said she’ll never want anything besides The Sophia. ”

“I am not sure how that is good news. Besides reaffirming my amazing taste in beverages and your incredible barista skills.” I didn’t even know what was in my favorite drink. I just knew I liked it.

“You’re on her mind,” Lana said matter-of-factly. “Even if subconsciously, you’ll get the interview and go in with an advantage because she already associates you with something good.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged, wishing I could share Lana’s unfounded optimism.

Seriously, where is that damn jar?

“I think it’s a sign—a good sign. Today is going to be a good day for you. I can feel it.” Lana set my drink down, and my name was signed with a four-leaf clover over the “i.”

I smiled at the sentiment. “I hope you’re right. Love you.” I said with force as I reached across the counter and shoved a five-dollar bill into her apron. Then I turned and bolted out of there before she could return it.

“I love you too, and I’m giving this back to you!” she shouted at my back.

I returned to my apartment and tried to fill myself with Lana’s positivity with every sip of my coffee. Pretending each swallow ingested was a liquid punch of damn sunshine to my gut.

Around 2 p.m., my phone pinged. I jolted up from my couch and wiped a little drool off my mouth. I must have fallen asleep.

Real productive day for me .

An email with Andi’s name appeared on my screen, apologizing for the last-minute request but asking if I could come in for an interview at four today. It went on to say she’d call me to provide details.

I kicked my feet in the air and squealed.

Then quickly proceeded to freak out and frantically started pacing.

What should I wear?

How should I do my hair?

Will Corbin be there?

I stopped pacing and squashed that thought immediately.

Who cares if he is there?

This job is about me. This is for me.

The last few encounters I’ve had with him, I was unprepared. He got the jump on me like a sexy ninja. This time, I will be prepared—prepared to see him, his face, his body.

Squash the thoughts. Squash!

My phone rang, and I screamed, an actual audible scream at the noise. I shook off the embarrassment and answered the New York area code number that flashed on my screen.

This could be it, my big break.

***

I showed up at the address Andi gave me, the old Monroe building on the East side of Misty Springs. Since it was too far to walk, I had to call Hank for a ride.

I would definitely need a car if I got this job. Maybe I could afford a car if I got this job.

Hank dished about the latest town gossip while I sat in the backseat, answering imaginary interview questions in my head. I didn’t hear who he was talking about—just that they still had their carved pumpkins out despite it being mid-November.

“I’ve been driving to this address a few times. The guy’s real uptight,” Hank muttered as he parked outside the brick building.

I chuckled, knowing exactly which uptight guy he was referring to. “Thanks for the ride, Hank.”

“Good luck, kid. You look the part, that’s for sure,” he said while looking at me in his rearview mirror. “No one else needs me right now, so I won’t run the meter while I wait. ”

“Thanks, Hank.” I climbed out of the car, hoping he was right about me looking the part.

I was wearing one of my only businessy outfits. It was a gray pencil skirt with a small slit in the back, a white button-down, and a matching gray blazer.

Landon’s mom bought it for me when I worked for the Norwood family business. She thought it made me look more professional —or, in her words, “less like some aimless cocktail waitress playing office dress-up.”

I took a deep breath to steady myself. The last thing I needed right now was to be thinking about my ex and his psychotic mother. My nerves were a wreck already.

I turned the handle to the suite and entered Buescher-Jones Publishing’s offices.

The office was an eclectic mix of old world and new, with funky accessories and pops of color everywhere.

I stood in the open air for just a second, admiring the scene around me, imagining myself getting to show up here to work every day. In my periphery, I noticed a man exiting his office to my left.

I startled, expecting to see Corbin.

Instead, he was a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper slicked-back hair. He was wearing dark blue pants and a gray plaid button-down shirt that was loose around his chest and tight around his midsection.

“Hello there. Who might you be?” he asked as he approached me with his hand out.

“Hi, I’m Sophia. I’m here to meet with Andi.” I held my hand to him.

He shook it and placed his other hand over mine, holding it a little too long and settling in closer as he repeated my name.

He had a symmetrical face, but something about his smile looked fake. After years of bartending, I had gotten pretty good at reading people. You see the worst in people when their inhibitions are lowered. If he showed up at Boomer's, I’d expect a low tip and for him to ask me for my phone number.

“Ned, back off. She’s not interested.” Andi’s voice came booming from a back office.

She emerged looking like a runway model in bright pink pants and a matching jacket. Her neon yellow heels matched her earrings and chunky necklace. With each strut of her long legs, her heel clicks echoed in the space.

Ned dropped my hand and took a few menacing, long strides toward her, his height barely making him eye-level with her. “When Mr. Buescher gets back next week, you can believe we’ll be discussing your disrespect toward me,” he said quietly, but not quietly enough that I couldn’t hear.

I tried not to react to Corbin’s name and used every ounce of muscle control not to do a mini fist pump.

Back next week —I would not have any Corbin distractions hanging over me during my interview.

“Please do. Mr. Buescher loves discussing trivial matters of employee squabbles,” Andi flung back.

Ned turned and angrily walked to his office, not giving me a second thought.

“Right this way,” Andi said with a smile of bright white teeth and a wave of her hand as if the exchange didn’t phase her in the slightest.

I followed her into the office she emerged from. The room was big and bright, with an oversized desk and large windows overlooking the river that wound through the heart of Misty Springs.

“I’m sorry. Ned is a creep,” Andi began.

“Oh, um, he seemed nice.” I stumbled through my words, not wanting to offend any potential coworkers.

“Don’t defend him. I know that’s always the go-to.

Be nice. Smile. Be polite. Say, thank you.

Say please. Don’t offend. Be a lady.” She puppeted her hands as she said each nicety that was drilled in my head from birth.

“Some people don’t deserve your nice. Plain and simple.

Ned is one of those people. Besides, we have a strict no-relationship policy here.

If he tries anything with you, I will gladly get him fired. ”

“I think I love you, Andi.”

“The straight ones always fall for me.” She smiled before both of us fell into a fit of laughter.

That broke the tension and made the rest of the interview proceed smoothly .

Andi asked excellent questions, challenging at times, but I felt good about every reply. I was focused and ready, my mind only wandered to Corbin three—maybe four times.

“I’m so glad you were able to come in, but I feel I need to be transparent with you,” Andi said, leaning back in her chair.

I braced for the bad news. I knew this was too good to be true.

“I haven’t gotten the go-ahead from my human resources department yet, and in this company, there is a lot of… red tape sometimes to navigate around, and I lose patience. I didn’t want you to keep waiting to hear from me, and after our last conversation, I was anxious to talk to you again.”

I nodded, unsure what this meant for me.