Tryst (Take It Off #8)(11)
Author: Cambria Hebert

She gave me a wary look. “Actually we are. For sales associates.”

“You don’t think I would make a good employee?”

“Of course you would. I just can’t imagine subjecting you to inventory.”

I laughed. “Well, getting a paycheck might be nice.”

“You’re trained in billing and coding for doctors and hospitals.”

“Numbers,” I replied. “Isn’t that what inventory is? Counting?”

“Touché.”

“Can I have an application?”

“You can have the job if you want it,” she said, waving away my request like it was a pesky technicality.

“Don’t you want my references?” I lifted a brow.

“Nah.” She grinned. “I know where you live.”

I laughed.

“You didn’t come here for a job. And you didn’t come here to buy that god-awful purse you’re carrying around.”

I glanced down at the purse. I hadn’t even realized I was still clutching it. It was ugly. I set it on her desk with a look of disdain.

“We got in a shipment of Michael Kors bags this morning. To die for. You should go through the stash before we put them on display.”

“Where are they?” I asked, perking up. Maybe a new bag would make me feel better. It certainly would make me look better.

I had a slight obsession with purses.

Blake said I had too many.

It was exactly why I needed another one.

“So you saw him,” she said, steering the conversation back to the reason I was here.

“Yes.”

“How was it?”

“He apologized that I caught him in bed with his secretary. And then he told me he wanted to have a baby.”

“He played the family card,” she said. Claire knew how much I wanted a family and kids. Up until this point, Blake hadn’t wanted to start a family yet. He was too focused on his career. “Maybe he really is sorry.”

“Then he went on to say he would be discreet in his future affairs and I wouldn’t notice because I’d be too busy being a mother.”

“Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“And that explains that ugly-ass bag you were carrying around.” She sighed.

I grimaced and looked at the bag. It was the color of puke. And it smelled weird.

“Do I have the words COMPLETE IDIOT stamped across my forehead?”

“Of course not. He’s just a complete ass.”

“I made him sign the papers. I threatened his good family name.” I glanced at Claire. “He said it wasn’t over.”

“And people wonder why I’m still single,” she mused. After her comment, she glanced at me, guilty. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I wish I’d never gotten married.”

We lapsed into silence.

“I’m homeless, about to get divorced, and out of a job.”

“I just gave you a job.” Claire pointed out.

I gave her a dark look.

“Oh, sorry. Was I interrupting your pity parade?”

“Yes.”

She grinned. The phone on her desk rang. She rolled her eyes and reached for it. “Claire Fuller,” she answered. “Mom!” she said a few seconds later. “I told you not to call me at work unless it was an emergency! … The state of Aunt Ruth’s bunions are not an emergency. And frankly, I don’t want to hear about it at all.” She made a motion and I smiled. Claire’s family was a kooky bunch, but I loved them anyway. “I can’t talk right now. Talie is here.”

She paused and I heard the low chattering of her mother on the end of the line.

“She’s getting a divorce. Blake cheated on her. She’s staying at my place.”

I made a sound as she rattled off my business like it was old news. Geez, just tell everyone, why don’t you.

Her mother’s chattering got louder. Claire made a sound of agreement. Then she looked at me and made the talking signal with her hand as her mother kept yapping.

“That serious?” Claire said, interrupting. “For a bunion?” Her tone was doubtful. “How long?”

My eyes wandered toward the ugly purse. Maybe if I tied a beautiful scarf around the handle and pinned a sparkly broach on the side it wouldn’t be so hideous. It just seemed wrong to leave that poor bag so unsightly.

Claire snapped her fingers at me as if she could read my thoughts. When I looked up, she shook her finger at me like I was a dog who went pee on the floor.

“Mom!” She interrupted. “Who’s taking care of Ruth’s house?”

“I’ll just go shop,” I mouthed, getting up to escape her office.

Claire gave me the eyes of death.

Eyes of death = promise of great torture later if I moved from my chair.

“What about Salty?” she asked.

I walked to the door, defying her death stare. What was she going to do that hadn’t already been done to me in the past couple days?

“Talie will do it!” she said.

I stopped and turned, wondering what in the hell she was saying. “Do what?” I said.

“Mom,” she said. “Mom!” she screeched. “I get it. I’ll be over after work.” She slammed the receiver down and made a sound of relief. “That woman could talk fifty-year-old wallpaper off a wall. It’d peel itself off just to get away!”

“What the hell did you just drag me into?”

“Aunt Ruth had bunion surgery. Apparently, bunions are very painful.” She shrugged. “Anyway, my dad drove down to Topsail to get her. She’s staying with them while she heals. I guess she has to stay off her foot for a while, and since she lives alone, Mom wanted her here.”

“Well, I hope she’s okay.”

“It’s a bunion,” she said dryly.

I suppressed a giggle.

“Anyway, Aunt Ruth’s house is going to be sitting empty. So I volunteered you to housesit.”

“You what!”

“It’s great timing. Your calendar is wide open and you need a vacation.”

“I need to put my life back together.”

“So what are your plans? You honestly want to work here, as a sales girl, and sleep on my couch forever?”

Of course I didn’t. It’s just… this was all so sudden I had no idea what to do. I didn’t have a backup plan.

“Exactly.” Claire surmised by the look on my face. “Aunt Ruth lives on the beach. Like, literally the sand is at her backdoor. Go stay there, smell the ocean air, take long walks on the beach… get the hell out of town. You need it.”