Chapter 8

Rainey

It wasn’t until I was seated on the train, after going to the post office for the second time, that I finally felt like I could breathe. Even though the interview had been over for some time, I still felt the weight of it on my chest. The interview wasn’t like the rest. Mr. Carrington—Michael—made me nervous but not for the job. Would I be able to work for a man like that? He broke a lot of rules during the interview but it was also his company. Maybe he had offered me the interview because he pitied me. And then I was late, ruining his lunch plans. Which is probably why he asked me to lunch. He felt bad for me. I did mention school loans, was I his charity case?

As the train started out of the station, I leaned my head against the cool glass. I wondered what happened with the other candidates. The woman I’d seen in the bathroom seemed very confident in her interview. Had he given her strange signals too, making her think that he wanted to sleep with her? It made sense. She was gorgeous, albeit a little snotty.

And Mr. Carrington was one of the best looking older men I’d ever seen. Scratch that. He was one of the best-looking men, regardless of age. My hormones skipped about at the mere thought of him.

I swallowed the nasty taste in my mouth. Today had been the craziest day I’ve had for the longest time. Was it possible that each roadblock I’d come across had been some cosmic message for me not to go to the interview? Would I have been better off and less embarrassed? Even if I didn’t get the job (and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t) it was experience added to my interview skills. I had answered his questions as I’d practiced so if he didn’t like me, I was okay with that since I tried my hardest. There was nothing I could do about it now.

At least I had a new outfit for more interviews. I planned on bleaching the shirt right when I got home. I had other button-down shirts but I loved how it fit me. I sure as hell hoped I could salvage it.

I dragged myself down the street to my parent’s house. Partly because my feet were killing me and partly because I knew I’d get another interview the second I walked in the door. At least by talking to Mom, I’d be able to vent and get some frustration out of me after this hellish day.

I let myself in the front door and kicked off my shoes. “I’m home!”

“Hi, Mommy!” Tanner called from the other room. He hadn’t come to see me. I bet Grandpa let him watch whatever he wanted on television and my son was taking advantage.

Mom came out from the living room and looked at me. “Was it that bad?”

I plopped down in one of the kitchen chairs and rubbed my hand over my face.

Mom sat across from me. “What happened?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in the chair. “Well, I got the interview.”

“That’s great!” Mom exclaimed and then she frowned again. “Did you say something wrong?”

“I don’t think so. But after I got the interview some guy spilled coffee all over me at the post office.” I moved the scarf away from my chest to show her. She pulled a face. “Exactly. And after I tried to clean up I was a few minutes late for the interview.”

“You can’t be late for an interview,” Mom said.

“I know,” I said. “But he still wanted to see me. I have to say I nailed the interview but he seemed put off by me for some reason.”

“Was it the stain on your shirt? Not very professional.”

I could have screamed. Instead, I settled for taking a breath and ignoring her question. “I had it covered. Then when the interview was over, he asked me to lunch.”

“Well did you go?”

“No! Why would I go? I just met the guy. And I think he was asking me on a date.”

“A lunch date? That’s not really a date. He probably wanted to get to know you better. It might have helped you get the job.”

Unless his lunch date involved sleeping with me. That was a subject I didn’t want to bring up with my mom. She was still naive to how the world worked today when it came to relationships between men and women. That’s what happened when you were married too long. A fate I wished I shared with her.

“I think he felt bad for me or something. I got a weird vibe from him like he only asked me to the interview so he could ask me out on a date.”

“That’s very strange.”

“Right? Anyway, I don’t know. I tried my hardest but I think this one isn’t going to work out.”

Mom got up from her chair and came over to me, patting me on the shoulder. “It will happen someday. This just wasn’t the job for you.”

If my boss was going to hit on me the whole time, I wouldn’t want to work for him anyway. Though I wouldn’t mind seeing his face every day for the rest of my life. I wasn’t blind to the fact that he was gorgeous. I hoped I hadn’t blown it by not going to lunch with him. At the time it seemed like an odd thing to ask, especially after his attempts to dig into my personal life. I had to remind myself that I did what I thought was best and if he didn’t like it then so be it.

Tanner burst into the room and wrapped me in a tight hug. I pressed him against me and inhaled his sweet little boy scent. Even though I tried to keep sweets away from him, he always managed to smell like chocolate.

“Hey, honey. How was your day at school?” Hugging him made me forget the strange day I had.

“School was okay,” he said excitedly. His little feet were tapping all over the floor.

I laughed. “What has gotten into you?”

“Let’s go make dinner now!”

I looked up at my mom. “Your father has been watching The Food Channel with Tanner all afternoon.”

“Oh,” I said, knowing where she was going with this. “Now you want to be a chef?”

“Yup! Yup!” He grabbed my hand. “Come on! I need to get dicing!” Tanner took off towards the stairs. I had no intention of giving him a knife to dice anything.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Tell your grandparents goodbye and thank them for watching you.”

Tanner dragged himself across the room as if he had concrete blocks for feet. I had to stifle a laugh. His dramatic efforts couldn’t be rewarded but he was so damn adorable.

I kissed my mom on the cheek. “Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Everything will be better tomorrow,” she said.

I nodded and called out a goodbye to Dad.

“He’s sleeping,” Tanner said in a low whisper. “I didn’t want to wake him.”

Dad had a habit of falling asleep in most chairs, especially the worn recliner he currently resided in.

“Good idea,” I said, ruffling his hair and leading him upstairs.