Then Kiss Me (4 page)

I joined the family for dinner and let them know what I’d been doing.

“Sweetheart, you don’t really want to work in a restaurant, do you?”

I
tried
count
ing
to ten to hold my temper
and only made it to four before I had to speak
.  “No, I don’t, but, Mom, I have to work.  I’ll take what I can get.  I can keep looking, you know.”  Why did she have a problem with my being industrious?

Dad nodded but didn’t say a word.

Karen looked at me.  And, by the way, what the fuck was she still doing here?
  “You look very nice today, Casey.”

“Thanks.  Good food, guys.”  Whew.  Maybe we could move into less hostile territory.

Mom looked up from her plate.  “Did you call Barry, Casey?”  Strike that.

“Yes.  He didn’t answer his phone.”

“Oh,” she replied, obviously disappointed and I couldn’t understand why.  At least we were trying to be pleasant.  Mom probably figured the easiest way to solve the whole problem of me would be for me to move back in with Barry.  I held my tongue.  “Did you eat anything for lunch, dear?”  Oh, fuck.  “You’re getting awfully thin.”

God, I wished I could get away with lying to her, but I knew that wouldn’t work.  “No.  I didn’t think about it.”

“You really should.”

“I
know
, mom.”  I took a bite of food for which I had no appetite, hoping to make mom happy, and determined to move out as soon as possible.  Tomorrow seemed like too far away.

The next morning, my interview was at nine o’clock, so I left the house at eight-thirty.  I wanted to get there early, and—while I knew it wouldn’t take me half an hour—I knew I’d get there with time to spare.  I just
hoped
I didn’t get there
too
early.  Well, if I did, I could have an extra cigarette and then walk around the parking lot to get the smoky smell off my clothes.

Barry still hadn’t returned my call before I left the house, so I figured it must not have been
that
important.  If it had been a cell number, I would have thought he’d butt dialed, but I somehow doubted he had my parents’ house number programmed into his cell.

When I got to the restaurant, I stood in the lobby for a few minutes before the manager came out to get me.
  It wasn’t quite nine, so he hadn’t made me wait too long.  I was anxious, though, because I hadn’t been interviewed in a few years and felt a little rusty.  I should’ve practiced in the mirror this morning, but I knew why I hadn’t.  It was just a food service job, and it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I didn’t get it.

The manager,
a bald guy with black-rimmed glasses
who introduced himself as
Ed
, asked me a few cursory questions (stupid shit like
Tell me a little bit about
yourself
.  How original).  Then he said, “I noticed you have some food service experience—cooking and waiting tables—on your application for a few years back, but more recently you worked for
an
art gallery.”  He pointed to the first employer listed on my application.  “Why did you leave?”

No way was I going to tell him I’d gone through a divorce.  As it was, my ring finger had finally
just
lost the dent the wedding band had carved there.  I didn’t want to say anything negative if I could help it.  “I
moved here from Denver because I have family here
.  Honestly, I
would
love to work in an art gallery, but Winchester’s a small town, and those jobs seem to be pretty scarce.  I know I can cook and wait tables.  And I’m good at it.” 
Holy shit.
  Should I have said that?  Was I going to lose my chance at a job by telling him the truth?

And then the man of my dreams stepped into Ed’s office.  It might sound cliché, but I’ve
gotta
say it anyway.  He was an Adonis among men.  He had short brown hair and was clean shaven, but he had some sideburns that were a little larger than most guys’. 
God, that was so hot. 
He had green eyes, muscular arms.  In fact, he looked pretty fucking cut, but it was hard to tell.  He was fairly tall and had a strong jaw.
  And on those arms were a
couple
tattoos.  I’d missed those being married to conservative, business-oriented Barry, but I’d always had a penchant for them.
 
So…
y
um
.
  He was quite a sight to behold, and that sucked.  I was supposed to be professional in this interview and instead I felt my heartbeat kicking up several notches.  Wow…I hadn’t thought about men in a long time.  It had been Barry and only Barry for years and even after our relationship had started to sour, I hadn’t given other guys another thought.  That all changed right now, though.  I hoped my face didn’t give away what I was thinking, but I was pretty awestruck.  And now I really wanted a job here.  The stakes had been raised and just after I had to open my goddamned mouth and tell Ed this wasn’t my dream job.

Well, if it was meant to be, it would happen, right?

That’s what I started telling myself in my head.
  Maybe then I could keep my cool.

“Ed, the vents stopped working again.  Will you have them looked at before we open?”

“Yeah.”
  Ed looked at me.  “Just a minute, please.”  He started dialing the phone.  Well, this would make for an awkward interview, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.  The sexy stranger looked at me, gave me a perfunctory exam by eye (what the
fuck
was he thinking?), and then turned around to leave.  I felt a vibration in my core.  If I didn’t get this job, I’d have to come back some time for lunch.

Ed finished the phone call, but I didn’t hear any of what he’d said.  I was too preoccupied, still intrigued that I was in the mood to check out guys again.  It was a cool revelation.
  And did that guy take my breath away.

Ed hung up the phone and looked at me.  “Can you start tomorrow at eight?”

You fucking kidding me?
  I was shocked.  I hadn’t expected that.  It felt like we hadn’t even finished the interview.
  Hell, we’d barely started.
  Maybe the good-looking guy had been the perfect distraction.  Maybe he was the reason I got the job, especially after answering a question so stupidly. 
Pick your jaw up off the floor, Casey.
  “Yes, I would love to.”  Well, I wouldn’t necessarily love the work, but I already liked one of my future coworkers and I definitely would
take
the job.

“I’ll have you cooking.  We just had a cook quit yesterday.”

I hadn’t expected that.  I’d assumed I’d be waiting tables.  But I was going to take it.  “Okay.”  I shook his hand.  “Thank you so much.”

Without missing a beat, Ed said, “We’ll see if you say that tomorrow.”
  I looked at him, probably looking confused, but then he smiled.  A sense of humor!  I’d have to get used to that.  I’d been working too long for humorless, uptight, artsy people.

Ed told me to wear blue jeans (the degree of fadedness didn’t matter but
no
holes, tears, rips, or stains) and a white shirt (if I was smart, he said, I’d buy some cheap t-shirts).

I couldn’t stop thinking about the strange, sexy guy I’d seen.  He appeared to be about my age, give or take.  But that look he gave me—was it derisive, hateful? 
Angry?
  Irritated?  I couldn’t tell. 
And why?
  What’d I do to him?  Or was it something else I couldn’t even pinpoint?  Well, I intended to find out at my first opportunity.

When I got to my car, I looked at my list.  I had three places to look at.  Two were apartments and one was in a duplex.

I looked at the first of the apartments.  It was too small, dumpy, and out of my price range.  It was an efficiency apartment where everything but the bathroom is in one room—not my cup of tea, especially for the price.  If it had been reasonably price
d, I would’ve considered it.  I
wondered if all the places
I would find
for rent would be that way.  I didn’t have a lot of money saved up, so I hoped not.  I went by the other two places and found myself equally unimpressed.  I looked in the paper again.  Maybe there was something I was missing.  I read back over the ads.  One I had overlooked before was for a small house, but it hadn’t had a rental price listed, so I had bypassed it.  But it couldn’t be worse than what I’d already seen.  So I dug my cell phone out of my purse and dialed.  A sweet-sounding elderly gentleman agreed to meet me at that address in half an hour.

The older man’s name was Lewis.
  He had gray hair,
a bit of a belly,
and
a quick and easy smile.
  He gave me a tour of the little house.  It was cute but rundown—two bedrooms, full bath.  Nice, but…I figured it too would be way out of reach.  Lewis asked what I did for a living.  I assumed that was so he would know if I could pay the rent or not.  I told him I was an artist, that I painted pictures, but that I would be earning a paycheck working for Bob’s Southern BBQ.  He nodded approval.  “You know, Miss Williams, if you would be willing to paint this house, inside and out, and get the yard in decent shape, I’d reduce your rent by fifty percent for the first year.”

Well, that wasn’t the kind of painter I meant, but hot
diggity
dog!  I was shocked at my great fortune.  I knew I could afford that price, even if I d
idn’t work, on my savings alone
for several months.  And this gentleman seemed sweet
as could be
.  I sensed he would be a good landlord.  “You’ve got a deal,” I said and shot out my hand, as though if I didn’t take the offer now, it’d be lost for good.

“Come to my house and we’ll write up the lease.”  So I followed him in my car to his house a few blocks away.  Overall, the lease was standard—no
pets,
and he needed a damage deposit, all that good stuff.  He added a few sentences by hand covering our agreement.  I told him I would come back later with first and last months’ rent along with damage and security deposits.  We shook hands again.

I went back to my parents’ house, feeling a little numb at how quickly things had changed yet again.
  And it must have been my lucky day finally, because everyone was out, so I wouldn’t have to tell them what I was doing.  I dug the cash out of my luggage and drove back to Lewis’s house.  Once I gave him the money, he gave me a receipt and the keys.  He said if I ever needed anything or had a problem to get in touch with him.  His phone number was on the lease.  I didn’t imagine I’d need to contact him often, but it was nice having it handy.

I went straight from Lewis’s house to a bank I’d seen downtown yesterday when I’d been looking for work.  I opened a checking account with my remaining cash.  After the deposits and such, I didn’t have as much cash as I’d originally thought I would, but I did have enough to live on for a while.  Well, it didn’t matter a
nyway.  I’d already spent it
.  And it didn’t matter anyway.  I had a job now, so I’d have cash flowing in.

Then I went back to my parents’ house, elated at how quickly I’d taken my life into my own hands and, with a plan, had managed to secure my independence.  Joyous freedom!  I started packing, relief washing over me.  I heard the whole family walk through the front door shortly after I did.  I figured I’d better break the news, so I updated them over iced tea at the dining room table.

Of course, mom wasn’t thrilled.  “Casey Lynn!  You could save money by staying here.  What are you thinking?”

“Mom, we’ll all be happier if I’m not here.  And it’s only on the other side of town.”  It wasn’t like the Metro Denver area where
the other side of town
could take hours to arrive at during rush hour.

“Casey, I don’t want you to do it.”

“It’s too late, mom.  I’ve already signed a one-year lease.”

Mom gave up, sighing.  That was easier than I’d expected.  Dad smiled comfortingly, and I carried my boxes and luggage back out to my car.  I was glad I hadn’t wasted time unpacking everything.  Dad helped some and whispered to me at one point, “She’ll get over it.”

I apologized for leaving but I had to set up my house and go to work the next morning.  I s
pent several hours
unpacking,
unlike I had at my parents’ house.  This was
real
.  Take that, Barry.  I don’t need you to sign a lease for me.

Fortunately, the house was furnished, so I wouldn’t have to go to one thrift store after another looking for items I wouldn’t be able to afford anyway.
  One room had a twin bed, the other a double.
  I knew, though, that I didn’t need two bedrooms, so I dismantled the single bed and stored it on the back porch.  Then I made that room my “studio”—more than anything else I planned to do with my life, I had to continue with my art.  It was all that made life worth living.

I realized as I unpacked my stuff and rearranged the house to suit my liking that I needed so many things I hadn’t even considered.  I needed sheets (not to mention pillows and blankets), towels, dishes, clocks…and food.  Mother would be proud that I thought of the last one. 
Oh, and cheap white t-shirts for my work uniform.  I’d almost forgotten those. 
So I drove to
Walmart
and bought everything I could think of that I needed, including a few food items, even though I really wasn’t that hungry.  Those purchases put another chink in the savings that I hadn’t thought of.  Good thing I started work tomorrow.