Page 36

CHAPTER 35

JILL

“ J ill,” Cleo called, curling around the doorframe of her office. “Can you pop in when you get a sec?”

I nodded. “Sure, let me just get this patron their book and I’ll be right there.”

The patron in question was Mrs. Bowlin. She came in every Wednesday to get a new romance novel, so she was pretty much my favorite. She only ever wanted me to help her find her next book, and she’d gone through our stash so fast I’d been doing inter-library swaps for almost a year to keep her in smut.

Her perfectly quaffed gray bob and Birkenstocks sandals might have made her seem like an unlikely consumer for the type of dirty vampire-lore she was there to collect, but that was one of my favorite things about romance readers; we hid amongst the masses, lust lovers and hopeless romantics propping up society and saving it from its inevitable demise.

Or at least that’s how it felt when she took her latest stash and winked at me conspiratorially. “Thanks, hun,” she whispered, tossing it in her tote and heading for the door.

I was still laughing to myself when I went into Cleo’s office.

“Close the door,” she said, her eyes on her computer screen.

I did as she asked and took the seat in front of her desk, curiosity finally piquing at what she wanted to discuss. We’d been getting nothing but rave reviews for the summer program since it ended the week before and rumors were the library was going to be tapped to do another one next year. I doubted Grady was in consideration for that, but I’d mostly refused to let my mind go there; getting back to normal without him was my only goal at the moment.

“We got some bad news from the board of directors the other day,” she started, rotating in her chair to face me head on. “Some shifts in priorities, and they’ve yielded some unfortunate consequences.”

“Oh?” It was rare for Cleo to string together that many sentences when talking to me, so now I wasn’t just curious, I was terrified.

“Though our fundraising cruise went well, we’ve been asked to reallocate more budget to the new technology department. The computer lab and skills training for the community are going to take precedence.” She sighed, clasping her hands in front of her on her desk. “Which means we have to let you go.”

“ What ?” My ears started ringing, my pulse hammering so hard in my stomach I thought I might vomit. “But I did the reading program. It went so well.”

She nodded, her brow bending in what appeared to be sympathy. Cleo wasn’t much for feelings so it was hard to tell. “I know. It wasn’t the plan when we started the summer, and I’m very sorry to see you go.”

She was ‘very sorry,’ she said, but her expression was flat and her voice was like a robot’s.

“So, you’re firing me.”

“We’ve got a small severance package for you. It’s not much, but we wanted to acknowledge how hard you worked. Pulling off that program while still keeping up with our community here was nothing short of impressive. It’s just not the direction the board wants to take our offerings going forward.”

I’d put my anxiety about my job into such a tightly lidded box, waiting until we got closer to the budget vote to really let my worries run away with me, that it was as if Cleo had just kicked the whole box over and my worst nightmares were skittering across the floor. My whole life had just been upended in two minutes flat. A drive-by demolition, shards of my security and direction scattered around the room as the world tipped on its side.

“I’m sorry, Jill,” she said again. But not because she wanted me to really absorb her sympathy. It was the kind of apology you give when you want someone to know they’ve said all they’re going to say and it’s time to leave their office.

“Right,” I mumbled, completely clueless as to what an appropriate response would be in this kind of situation. I wasn’t supposed to thank her for firing me, was I?

“Your last day will be Friday, so you have time to give anything you’re working on to Lis. Okay?”

“Sure.” I stood up, my numb legs still working somehow. Librarian jobs weren’t exactly a dime a dozen. What was I going to do?

“If you need a letter of reference, please don’t hesitate to let me know. I’m happy to sing your praises.”

Nodding, I went for the door, suddenly desperate to get away from her. “Thank you.” I fumbled my way back to my desk, grabbing my purse. I told a very concerned looking Lis that I’d be back in a few minutes as I beelined it for the door. If I didn’t get some fresh air I was going to hyperventilate.

I’d been so proud of myself for holding it together the last week. Even if I was missing Grady every second of every day, I’d yet to tumble down the hill of despair I’d succumbed to after Adam. But now? It felt like the universe had kicked me while I was down, and I resented it. We’d worked so hard to make that program a success, and we’d done exactly that. Beating back all my fears, standing in front of all those crowds—all of it was supposed to ensure I kept my job—not be rendered meaningless when I got fired anyway.

For a computer lab.

I was fired for a computer lab.

“Jill!”

The sound of my name, from a familiar voice, startled me. I’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk on the way to my car, and when I looked over my shoulder, LeAnn was trotting up to me with a giant smile on her face. It vanished instantly.

“What’s wrong?” She took my arm, as if she worried I might actually collapse. I wasn’t quite that far gone, but her embrace was warm and sturdy and for a second it snapped me out of my spiral.

“Is it Adam?”

I laughed under my breath, satisfied in knowing that the days of him upsetting me this much were over. Even with what was actually wrong, that was a seemingly small but meaningful victory.

“I got fired for a computer lab.”

“Wait. What?” She hooked our elbows and guided me around the corner. I heard the beep of a car opening and she ushered me into her passenger seat. “Pause,” she said, shutting the door and running on her little legs to the other side.

“Okay,” she huffed, shutting her own door and spinning to face me. “What did you just say?”

I sighed, some of the tension holding me upright slipping out of me as I slouched into the seat. “Cleo just fired me. They need the money for a computer lab, so they can’t afford me.”

Her mouth dropped open, her wide saucer eyes more apologetic and concerned than the woman who’d just let me go from my job. “That’s not okay, Jill. You worked so hard to make sure you’d be safe. I thought they were getting a state grant or something?”

My shrug took every ounce of energy I had. “I don’t know. Maybe it wasn’t enough? I didn’t really get a full run down on the finances.”

LeAnn looked out the windshield at the brick wall in front of us. “Joey is going to flip.”

Why that struck me as funny isn’t totally clear, but the image of my brother getting red-faced with anger at his little sister’s layoff was just the kind of absurd image that would push me over the edge.

“It’s not funny,” LeAnn chided, watching me laugh like I had actually lost it. “He was so sure you and Grady killing that program would mean a promotion. Not this.”

Instantly I was reminded of the time Grady said the same thing; that I’d get a promotion because our program did so much better than expected. It hurt now to think about how happy I’d been when he said it. How everything had been different.

My laughter faded. “Well, we were all wrong, I guess.”

“Jill . . .” LeAnn looked like she didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t blame her.

“It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.” Though what the hell that was, I didn’t have a clue.

Her tiny gasp drew my gaze back to her in time to see her eyes light up. “The store! This is a sign. You’re supposed to open your bookstore.”

I’d never believed in signs like she did, and honestly this wasn’t going to be how that kind of faith was born in me. Breaking my heart and taking away my income was a pretty shit way to recruit someone to your belief system, if you asked me.

“I don’t think that’s the message here,” I mumbled, annoyed by her enthusiasm.

She bounced in her seat. “I know it seems bad. I get it. But if not now, when?”

“When I’m not unemployed and no banks would ever loan me the money. I couldn’t get them to give me the time of day back when I had an income to help me. I’m pretty sure being jobless is a nonstarter for a large line of credit.”

She shook her head, determination on her face just like it was every time we’d gone to the gym. “You have to at least try. What else are you going to do?”

It irked me that she had a point. My prospects weren’t good. So, unless I wanted to commute to another town—possibly a lot farther away—I didn’t have many options.

“Just look into it,” she pressed. “Then you can decide what to do next.”

The blue sky above us was dotted with big fluffy clouds slowly cruising across the horizon. They looked the opposite of how I felt: dense and heavy and stuck.

“Fine,” I muttered, not seeing her letting me out of the car unless I agreed. “I’ll look.”

“Good.” She sat back in her seat and gave me a sympathetic smile. “This sucks, Jill. But you’ve got us, and you’ve got Grady. You’ll get through it.”

The sound of his name pierced me right in the heart. I hadn’t told anyone that he and I were basically done. And now it felt like too much to say out loud. So, I gave her a wordless nod, pulling my door handle.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

She studied me a second longer, her scrutiny telling me I probably hadn’t hidden my reaction well enough. But she gave me one more encouraging grin. “You bet.”

I slipped out of the car and shut the door, making my way back to the library as if on autopilot, still finding it hard to believe any of this was real.

You wouldn’t have thought so much stuff could be accumulated by one person in just five years of working at a place, but I’d managed to fill yet another box from my desk as Friday afternoon rolled around.

“I still can’t believe this,” Lis said, wearing the same guilty, forlorn expression she’d had on for the last two days. She’d been crying outright when I got back the other day after Cleo had filled her in.

“You’ll be fine,” I told her again.

I’d lost count of the number of times I’d reassured her. It was better than focusing on how I felt, though, so I hardly minded. Lis had been at the library a year longer than me. She was perfectly capable of doing my job, since she’d done it once before. She was just out of practice.

“I don’t want to be fine. I want to be excited about life. I want to come in here and rock on with my friend and make this world a better place one reader at a time.” Her flare for drama wasn’t intended to amuse me, but it did anyway.

“Just think of it this way; if they do another summer reading program next year, you’ll be the one with a hunky professional athlete on your arm.”

The sting hadn’t faded yet, but I could at least talk about the program and Grady without shuddering pathetically. Baby steps.

Lis scowled at me. “You say that as if any athlete would do. Or better yet, as if any of them would look at me the way Grady looked at you. That wasn’t just a product of proximity, so don’t act like I’d get as lucky.”

It would have required more heart than I had to argue with her. Especially since part of me thought she was right. I had gotten lucky. But luck runs out, and as I capped the last box, a familiar sense of hopelessness settled on my shoulders like a wet blanket.

“I’ll be back in a sec.” Hefting the box I backed out the front entrance. But I stopped short as I rounded the corner, two men leaning against the side of my car. As they swiveled my way at once, I let out an even heavier sigh. “Hi?”

Cash and Joey both turned, Cash coming over to take the box from me as I opened the back hatch of my Subaru.

“Mom told us today was your last day,” Joey said, his voice low, like he knew I needed some sort of explanation for Cash’s presence. It wasn’t completely out of character for Cash to be involved in family business, but it certainly wasn’t the norm either and Joey was even more stiff than usual as he stood beside our older brother.

Being several inches taller than Joey, Cash had to duck as he backed away from my car. “You got more?” he asked, as abrupt as ever.

I couldn’t remember the last time we’d exchanged more than a few pleasantries at a family gathering. When he came. It wasn’t that Cash was cold or mean, he just seemed to hold himself back. And none of us knew why.

“A few,” I answered, knowing it was pointless to tell them I didn’t need their help. Mom had sent them, so they’d be good sons and lift the boxes even if they weren’t that heavy.

“You holding up?” Joey asked before we got back to the library entrance. His concern was obvious even if he tried to conceal it with nonchalance.

I hesitated before I answered, noticing Cash paying closer attention to my response than I’d have expected. “Yeah. What else am I going to do?”

My brothers followed me inside and picked up the rest of the boxes. What would have taken me four trips took them one, so I guess it was more efficient this way. It still felt like overkill though, so I was happy when we got back outside and they slid them in the back of my car.

“You gonna look at the store?” Joey asked, as if he’d been waiting to get back out there alone to continue our conversation.

LeAnn’s excitement about this being a sign came back to me, and I leaned heavily into my hatch as I closed it. “I said I would.”

“What store?” Cash asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn’t look like he was ready to pull his normal Houdini act, which only made Joey bristle more.

“There’s an open storefront in town, Jill’s thinking of opening a bookstore there.” Joey’s tone was ripe with irritation. He didn’t care to have Cash involved in my next steps.

“If I can get the bank to give me a loan.” I sighed, feeling like my family was constantly missing that part. They all just assumed it was me holding myself back about this, completely ignoring the very real financial mountain I’d have to climb to stock a bookstore, let alone get it up and running.

“You’ll get the loan,” Joey stated flatly, his unfounded confidence so like his wife’s I almost laughed.

“What bank?” Cash asked, and both Joey and I whipped his way.

“First.”

He nodded, his eyes on the ground before he looked up at me and said, “If you want me to go with you, I can. I know some people.”

He knew some people? Cash was the fuck-up of the family. He’d gone to California on a scholarship and then dropped out of school. He’d come back and worked menial jobs around town until he moved out and we hardly heard from him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be associated with him in any crowd, but definitely not when asking for a large sum of money to be given to me on my word I’d pay it back.

Joey outright laughed, a hoarse chuckle from under his breath that somehow Cash managed to ignore.

“I think I’m okay.”

I didn’t want to hurt my brother’s feelings. Especially since the last time he’d offered to help me with anything was when I was six and too small to hammer the nail when I attempted to hang another bookshelf in my childhood bedroom.

Cash offered me another nod, but it was less enthusiastic this time. “If you say so.” He gave both of us a look before stepping off the curb. As he passed me, he gave my shoulder a squeeze.

“Good to see you, Jilly-bean.”

“You, too, Cash-money.” He huffed out a laugh, his smile going wide and soft, how I remembered it as a kid.

He didn’t say anything to Joey, just gave him a tip of his head and then he walked away.

“Mom called Cash?” I asked when he was gone.

Joey rolled his eyes as he went for his truck. “She texted both of us on a thread we haven’t used in like ten years. You know she never expected him to show.” He waved as he hopped up inside and backed out of his spot before I’d even gotten into my car.

But he had showed. And as childish as it might have been, it made me feel good. It almost felt like old times. Aside from everything else in my life being in shambles.