Scarlett
I haven’t left my room since I closed myself inside this morning, and now the sun is beginning to go down, along with my hope of any job openings in the city. There are no job postings on any local sites, and I’ve called dozens of hotels in the Boston area to see if they were hiring. This city is completely staffed with front desk and management personnel. Other than room service, there are very few hotel job openings. I felt in control this morning. I had hopes of finding something better. Now, I only feel a gigantic pit in my stomach. No salary, no unemployment, and I pretty much blew through my savings on rent this past year. I’m damned.
I grab my phone that’s still warm from the last pleading call and dial Mom’s number. My heart flutters in my chest with apprehension that Dad might answer, but Mom usually tries to get to the phone first, waiting for my infrequent calls.
“Hi, Scarlett,” Dad answers, of course, and the flutter in my chest builds into a pounding sensation. “Everything okay?” That’s how little I call. When I do, something must obviously be wrong.
“Yeah, everything is great. Is Mom around?” There’s silence for a brief moment, and I wonder if the phone went dead. “Dad?”
“Yes. Sorry, no, your mother is in the middle of making me dinner. Is there something I can help you with?”
Help me? That’s a laughable question. If I told him what happened, he’d tell me it’s my own fault for going into hospitality management. Then he’d tell me to go back down there and demand my job back. He thinks that because people crap their pants when they see him coming, I should have the same effect on people. I might have a firm hand, but I know when to back down. He doesn’t. “No, that’s okay. You can just tell her I called.”
“Scarlett, you can lie to me all you want, but I can hear in your voice that something is wrong. What is it?” I hate how he thinks he knows me. He was never around, not as a Dad should be. He cared more about business and money than his family. We were just there for him on the side.
“It’s nothing,” I reply quickly, possibly too quickly to sound truthful.
“You got fired, didn’t you?” He’s probably just familiar with the way a person sounds after he fires them. That’s his favorite thing to do.
“No. I have to go.”
“Then, what is it?”
I know Mom can’t do anything to help me, but we’re close, and sometimes I just want to talk to her, but Dad keeps tabs on her and everything else in our lives, and the last thing I need is him getting involved with my career in some way. He’s a horrible husband, just as he is a father to me, and there are times I want to just rescue Mom from him, but she pretends like life is fine, even when I know it’s not. Sometimes, I feel like I abandoned her when I went off to school, but she was hellbent on me leaving and not coming home. I know it was because of Dad’s ways, but she’d never admit that to me either. “It’s nothing. I have to get going. I was calling to say hi.” I hang up before he can say anything else.
I drop my phone into my lap and shove the heels of my palms into my eyes. I can’t just leave here—Boston. The thought itself is making my stomach hurt. I have Boston in my blood. I can’t just transplant myself into Southern soil and start life all over again. Though, I could ask myself what “life” I’m talking about. It couldn’t be the stupid one-night stands I’ve gotten good at, nor the one-week relationships I attract. Other than Brendan, I have my job, and that’s about it.
The apartment has been eerily silent since Brendan left for work a few hours ago, but I’m hungry and need to release myself from my self-imposed imprisonment so I step out, forgetting about the racket I heard Brendan making this morning. I’m quickly reminded, though, as I find boxes stacked and labeled with drawings of the contents. He seriously wants me out of here. What the hell? I thought he was fooling around this morning.
I walk towards the stacked boxes, spotting a note on the top of a shorter pile.
Scar,
I know you thought I wasn’t being completely serious this morning, but some parts of your life have been sucking the sparkle out of you these past couple of years. I need that dimpled smile to come back—the one that lights up a room when you walk in. I’ve been worried about you, and this all feels like life is falling into place the way it should. Therefore, I feel strongly that you need this job and change. Please, go talk to Dick, look him in the eye this time, and reclaim what is yours.
Love you,
Brenny
No. This is ridiculous.
Just, no. I’m not doing this. I’m not just moving halfway down the coast because I can’t find a job here. With no other ideas to spin on, I spend the next several hours pacing, thinking, and clicking refresh on my inbox, with the hope of receiving a response from one of the hotels that weren’t hiring. Maybe something opened up today? It’s still a big nope. Maybe I’ve been blacklisted in the hospitality industry. I would think I’d have to do a lot worse than show up late a few times, but there’s literally nothing. This is a nightmare.
After completely exhausting myself and coming to terms with employment opportunities taking longer than ten hours to pop up, I plop down on the couch and flick the TV on. Maybe I should just go back into the hotel tomorrow and be firm, tell them I want my job back, and I won’t be late again. Not that I didn’t say that this morning, but I didn’t get a warning of any sorts, and I thought that was common practice. I know I’m in the wrong. I shouldn’t have been late all those times. This is on me.
I hear the front door open and close just as the fourth binge-worthy episode of ‘Housewives of Beverly Hills’ ends. Expensive Italian shoes clack across the old floors. Brendan is likely following the glow from the TV through the dark apartment.
He appears in the stream of light and leans against the wall molding where the hallway meets the TV room. “Hey, babe.” He crosses his arms across his perfectly fitted dress shirt with starched creases still prominent from his morning ironing ritual. “You look like shit.”
“You look great too,” I offer with a snide groan. Brendan is always dressed to impress. Even when his hair is a mess, it still looks like a perfect mess. Plus, he’s prettier than any girl I know, and it’s not fair.
“I quit,” he says.
I have no clue what he’s talking about, and I’m sure the look on my face reflects my inner thought. “What are you talking about?”
“I quit my job,” he says.
“You quit your job at Louis Vuitton? The job you wished and prayed for, for three years?” He’s lying.
“I did.”
“You’re out of your goddamn mind. Why would you do something so stupid?”
“Because.”
“Because why, Brendan? We only have your income now. Why would you do that?” The nervous patter in my chest that has been torturing me relentlessly for the last eight hours becomes more prominent once again. We’re so screwed. Why today of all days? He better have a good reason.
“Because we’re moving to South Carolina together.” I pause for a moment, replaying his words over and over until they thoroughly sink in.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You need this, and maybe I need this too. So, we’re going.” His mouth is in a straight line. He’s serious. Brendan does not belong in the South. It gets hot and he doesn’t like to sweat.
“Brenny, what about Kalvin? You said things were finally moving in the right direction with him. I don’t understand.”
Brendan moves forward and drops down on the couch beside me, wrapping his arm around my neck. He smells like Louis Vuitton—the cologne I could drink up. “I was convincing myself we were moving in the right direction, but he’s so busy with his career that I don’t see his focus ever being on a relationship or a family. You know that’s what I want.”
“I know, but you love him.”
“Love sometimes means setting things free, Scarlett.”
“Yeah, I got that out of your letter earlier,” I tell him.
“Well, you’re more than love to me. You’re my best friend and my safe place. If you have to leave, I’m going with you.”
I twist to face him, curling my leg up in front of me onto the couch. “I don’t know if the offer is still available. I walked out, remember?”
“If it’s not, we’ll figure it out. This is our next adventure. I have money saved up. We’ll be okay until we get on our feet down there,” and for the first time all day, a spark of excitement rumbles through me. I’ve been an independent woman most of my adult life, and it’s never bothered me, but the thought of starting over with no one by my side scares me more now than it did during my college years. I’m used to having Brendan by my side, I guess, so if I have him next to me, a change could feel a little less scary.
“Those boxes weren’t all for me, were they?”
“Nope. I started packing too.”
Wow. “This is really happening. I’m scared.”
“I’m scared too,” he says.
“I’m a little excited though,” I tell him.
“Same here. I’m going to find myself a hottie cowboy,” he says.
“Um.” I press my finger against my lip. “Brenny, sweetie, I don’t think there are too many cowboys in South Carolina. I think you’re confusing your Southern states.”
“Fine, then I’ll find myself a Southern belle-man,” he says with laughter.
I huff and laugh along with him as I rest my head against his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Dress like shit. Remember back when you only wore neutral colors?” he asks.
“Now, look at me.” I’m wearing next month’s rent and this season’s color. “You’re such a good influence.”
“I know,” he quips with pride. “So, what’s this town we’re going to?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s some place I’ve never heard of, but I’m sure it’s nice. It’s in South Carolina. There are palm trees, beaches, and warm weather. I wrote down the name in my notes on my phone. I’ll grab it in a minute.”
* * *
Maybe if I had given myself the night to consider Dick's offer, I would have a chance at taking him up on the position in South Carolina. Instead, I have a feeling I’m going to walk in to the hotel to a sign that says “No” on it. Dick isn't one for second chances, but all I can do right now is try.
It's cold as hell today, and just to make it a little more miserable out, it’s also raining. Between the bus and the three long blocks of walking, my pants are soaked and the rain’s sideways mist hit my hair in a bad way, even under my umbrella. I must look like a wreck. I sure as hell feel like one.
I walk through the revolving door and find Tatiana at the front desk, helping a customer. Her smile is welcoming, which I know the guests love. What I don’t understand is how she never seems to have a bad day. It's not that I’m miserable or anything, but I have a hard time putting on the charm when I’m tired and worn out after a week of long shifts.
“Hey girl!” she calls out to me as she finishes up with the customer. “I heard.” Her voice lowers to a whisper and her mouth quirks into a rigid grimace. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah—no—I don't know. I need to talk to Dick. Is he here by any chance?”
“Yeah, he just went to grab a coffee. I’m sure he'll be back in a minute.”
“Oh, good.” I place my purse down on top of the counter and run my fingers through my wet strands. “I'm a disaster.”
“I'm sure you’re stressed out. I would be too,” Tatiana says. “I did overhear that he offered you a position in South Carolina, though. That’s a pretty big move, but maybe it would be worth a try?”
I look up at her and sigh. “Yeah, that's why I'm here. I should never have just walked out yesterday without giving the opportunity any thought. I definitely wasn’t thinking clearly at the time. Maybe the position in South Carolina would be good for me. I don't know if it’s too late, though.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll still let you have the job,” she says, slapping her hand at the air as if to suggest he’d do anything for me. Dick hates me. Always has, but I’m not exactly sure why. I wasn’t always showing up late. It’s just been happening more often recently since the bus schedule changed. Before that happened, I could literally run out of my apartment ten minutes before I had to be here, and I’d be on time. Now, I have to leave an extra thirty minutes early, and it’s still a struggle to get here on time. Not like any of that matters now. I’ve been fired from this location.
“Scarlett, what brings you back to our establishment today? If you recall, you were escorted out of here yesterday for a good reason. Am I right?” I cringe at the sound of his voice while summoning my courage as I turn toward him.
“Richard, can I have a word with you for a moment?” I ask him, avoiding eye contact with the habitual twitch in the corner of his top lip. He constantly looks like he wants to murder me.
Dick hesitates for a brief moment, and I hold my breath the entire time. “Sure.” He gestures toward the back room with his arm, and I don’t waste any time before heading back to the quiet employee room. “How can I help you?” He closes the wooden door and pivots on his heels before crossing his arms over his chest. My focus holds tightly to the puckering of his suit jacket, and the way his tie is knotted crookedly, forcing it to hang slightly to the right. “Well? What is it?”
I snap out of my frozen gaze and look up at him, hearing Brendan’s warning about never looking a dick right in the eye, but surely today is an exception. Of course, now I have the desire to burst out laughing, but I know that won’t help me more than I’ve already helped myself. “I was wondering if the opportunity in South Carolina was still available?”
Dick chuckles as if he were expecting me to come running back. The thought makes me want to tell him where he can shove his name so I can get the hell out of this confined room that smells like tuna. “I had a feeling you’d be back.” Like I thought.
“I should have told you I needed the night to consider my options. It was foolish of me to walk out before doing so,” I tell him.
“Agreed. Unfortunately, I offered the position to Darrel last night, and he jumped at the opportunity,” Dick says.
“Darrel? As in Darrel who works one shift a week and always shows up at least an hour late and leaves an hour early?” That man made me look like employee of the year.
“Management told me to offer it to you, and if you didn’t want it, to check with Darrel. There’s not much I can do at this point. My hands are tied, Scarlett.” Are they? Because they sort of look like they’re folded so tightly across his chest that a chest hair is now popping through the opening of his dress shirt. If his tie were straight, it would at least be covering that pucker.
“Awesome. Great, well, I’m so glad I came down here for nothing.” Burning bridges again. It’s something I’m just so damn good at.
“What do you want me to tell you, Scarlett?” He unfolds his arms and places his hand on the doorknob, finalizing this useless conversation.
“That you’re going to tell Darrel there is someone more qualified for the position, and unfortunately, he’s going to have to be let go from his one-day-a-week job?”
Dick stares me for a long minute, narrows his eyes, and sighs through his lip twitch. “I was just testing you to see if you truly wanted the position. It’s yours. Darrel was let go two weeks ago.”
Was he? I didn’t happen to notice his name missing on the schedule. It’s obviously because I’m so amazingly detail oriented. Ugh.
“Right.” I’m mortified. “Well, I’m glad the position is still available.”
“I think you’ll do fine there. Life is a bit slower, and everyone takes extra time to get where they’re going. You’ll fit in well.”
I can’t figure out if that’s an insult to me or the state of South Carolina. Just because everyone in Boston has to act like they’re on speed doesn’t mean the rest of the country should have to keep up.
“I’m looking forward to starting the new position,” I offer, quietly, due to being out of breath from the thoughts racing through my head.
“I will have our travel department book you a flight for Sunday afternoon. There are villas on-site, so we’re going to offer you room and board for one year in addition to your compensation. Look at it as a bonus for transferring.” Well, that was unexpected.
Sunday.
As in three days from now.
As in, I better get my ass in gear real quick.
“Again, I appreciate the offer. Thank you, Dick—Richard.” I reach out to shake his hand, knowing this will, thankfully, be the last time I have to see the man who I’ve grown to dislike a lot over the past few years.
“We’ll miss you around here. Good luck, Scarlett.”
I pull in a lung full of air and walk out the door as he’s opening it, unable to bring myself to voice a similar sentiment in return.
While making my way past the front desk, Tatiana is eagerly waiting to hear what happened, or so it looks by the questioning smile stretched across her face. I give her a thumbs-up as I walk by, knowing Dick is on my heels. Tatiana and I weren’t close since we never worked a shift together, but we passed each other during shift changes. “Good luck!” she offers.
“Thank you! Same to you,” I reply, sincerely, but also glad it’s, and not me, who has to continue working with Dick. Maybe I’ll make more meaningful friendships down in South Carolina. I certainly did a shitty job at maintaining those here, except for Brendan, but he’s like the easiest person to be friends with. He’s there when you need him and quiet when you don’t. I’m the same way with him. It’s perfect.
The moment I step back out into the rain, I see a break in the clouds. How symbolic. I can only hope it’s a little foreshadowing of my future as a Southerner. With relief pouring through me, I pull my phone out of my bag and dial Brendan’s number. That man lives with his phone in his right hand, so I don’t think the phone even rings once before I hear his voice on the other end of the line.
“What happened? Is it a go? I’ve been sitting by the phone for the past two hours schvitzing to death.”
“You were what?” I ask him.
“Sorry, it’s Yiddish. I was sweating to death.”
“Oh … well, it was touch and go there for a minute as Dick attempted to teach me a lesson about life choices, but it’s all good. We leave Sunday. Or, I leave Sunday. I don’t know how fast you can have your life packed up.”
“Sunday, it is. I’m packed up and ready to go, babe. It’s you who has a room full of shit that needs to find a home.”
Right. That. I’m moving, not going on vacation. This should be fun.
“I’ve already started a pile of trash, donation, and things to take.”
“Oh, it’s like a dream come true for you,” I joke.
“It was like orgasming. Honestly, it’s just invigorating to consider the thought of burning some of that shit from the nineties you persist in holding onto.”
“Ten years until the style comes back,” I argue. “I want those jeans you’re referring to by the way.”
“All ten pairs of low-waisted, bootcut, dark denim? You haven’t worn them in the whole time I’ve known you. You have taste, and those are not tasteful. Plus, sweetie, you’re a woman now, not a teenage girl with no curves. Oh, and those Candie’s Mary Janes are going too.”
“I love those!”
“Okay, well you don’t wear those either, and you might need to turn them in for a pair of cowboy boots.”
“Brenny, darling, I told you we aren’t heading out west to the deserts with tumbleweeds.”
“Have you even taken geography?” he asks.
“Yes. Have you?”
“No.”
“Awesome. Well, I guess this is just going to be one big surprise for both of us, but even more so for you,” I tell him.
“Or, we can Google the town and find out what we’re getting ourselves into.”
“Mmm, I’d rather be surprised. Google can be deceiving with their drone cameras plopping random pictures all over the Internet.”
“Well, suit yourself, but I’ve been Googling all day.”
“I don’t want to know,” I tell him.
“Um, I think you kinda do want to know.”
“No. No, no, no. I’ll hang up on you if you say anything else.”
“I’ll torture you when you get back home then. Love you!”
He’s exaggerating. He likes to do that. He always does that. I’m sure it’s just like any other town with hotels in it. I’m not worried. It’ll be fine.