#Awestruck (A #Lovestruck Novel)
Page 20
Catching up on my email kept me busy until lunchtime. I grabbed my purse and coat and fled, all too happy to escape. I let out a deep breath of air when I got outside. Even the overcast sky felt less dark and oppressive than ISEN.
I headed for the Asian fusion restaurant in the building where Aubrey worked. She looked as upset as I felt, collapsing into the chair across from me. “There are days when I really, really hate my job.”
“Really? You know, there’s a support group for that. Its membership includes everybody, and their group meetings are at the bar after work.”
“Ha. Have you ordered yet?”
I told her I hadn’t, and we figured out what we wanted to get so that when the waitress stopped by our table, we were ready.
“I don’t know why you’re all up in arms about your job,” I said. “It’s not like Dad’s going to ever fire you. If I were you, your home life would stress me out more. I don’t know how you do that all the time, every day.”
“Well, wine helps. And the fact that I adore my kids more than my own life. It’s different when they’re yours.”
I could see that. I definitely thought Charlotte and Joey were superior to every other child on the planet.
“But we’re not here to talk about my kids. We’re here to talk about Evan. Tell me everything that’s been going on.”
So I filled her in on our activities up to the present day, obviously leaving some private details out of my recap.
“Are you still mad at him?” she asked.
“No. I was really angry in the beginning, and then it just kind of flared up occasionally. Like herpes. And now . . . I enjoy being with him.”
“Sounds like things are going well,” Aubrey said, leaning to the left so the server could put her dish on the table.
“They are. Today it’s Brenda who is making me miserable. What is the penalty if you accidentally murder your boss?”
“It’s pretty bad. You don’t want to know.”
“Even if it’s justified?”
“Even then. What did she do?”
Aubrey already knew the basic gist of what Brenda wanted, so I laid out every detail of her evil plans, including today’s interaction.
She sat and listened, not eating, not saying anything. Her eyes got wider and wider until she vaguely resembled an anime character.
“You have to quit. Right now. You have, like, Stockholm syndrome or something.”
“What?”
“You’ve always been competitive. You want to be the best, and you have this really unrealistic dream that will be really hard to attain, and this woman is using that. ‘Just do what I say, and I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted.’ And you did what she said. I know you felt justified in the beginning because of how mad you were at Evan, but that’s passed. It sounds like it’s time to move on.”
“But this job, this opportunity, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“Is it? Or is it all Grandma wanted? And it sort of became your dream?”
My brain internally gasped. No one had ever said that to me before. It had always just been my dream that my grandmother shared. But how could that be true? What four-year-old wanted to be a sports announcer someday? She’d settled on being a reporter since she knew she’d never, ever become an announcer. That opportunity was denied to my grandma in her career, and she spent my entire life telling me I should want it.
Did I, though? Was it something for me, or a mantle put on my shoulders by somebody else? I couldn’t tell where my grandmother’s hopes began and my dreams ended. It was all blended together.
It was like when I tried to stop being angry with Evan in the beginning. I didn’t know how to let go of it. Just like I didn’t know how to let go of wanting to become an NFL announcer.
I’d never questioned my ambition before.
It was something I’d need to think more about.
“I don’t know,” I finally told her. “I do know that at some point Brenda’s going to fire me, and that devastates me.”
Aubrey finally began to eat, and she spoke in between bites. “Let her fire you. People get fired. It happens. And somehow the world keeps spinning.”
“You don’t understand how this feels because you’ll never be in this position.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t point out that you’re being stupid. Not to mention that you wouldn’t have to worry about Evan finding out. If you’re someplace new, it doesn’t matter what your old boss asked you to do. You don’t necessarily have to tell him all of the truth.”
“Right. Because who wants a relationship based on communication and honesty? Gross.”
“I just mean that if you’re worried the Brenda stuff might be a deal breaker, because I would be freaking out about that if I were in your shoes, this is a way to avoid all of it. Your options are to either come clean to him or just look for a new job.”
I picked at the lo mein with my chopsticks. “Do you think I should tell him?”
Aubrey just shook her head. “I can’t tell you that. It has to be your decision. I will say that from the moment he came back into your life, even though you’ve acted annoyed or put out, you’ve been excited. Besides this job stuff, do you think about anything else besides him?”
“Not really.”
“Tell me you’re not developing real feelings for him.”
“I . . .” The word died in my mouth. I couldn’t lie to Aubrey. She was a lawyer and had mom-level liedar. She would see right through me. “Okay, I have feelings for him. Maybe I’m even falling in love.” It was the first time I’d said it out loud. “But it’s too soon, right? Too fast?”
“Who’s to say what’s too fast? And you guys have a history together and a former friendship. It’s not like you’re just meeting him for the first time. And I’m the wrong person to say that something is happening too soon because I knew the first night I met Justin that we’d be together forever.”
This whole conversation was twisting my stomach up in knots, especially since Brenda’s words about being “that girl” came back to haunt my psyche. “But if I quit, isn’t that like choosing a man over my career?”
“No,” Aubrey scoffed. “It’s choosing to not work for a deranged sociopath who has violated, like, ten different laws. The way she treats you is neither normal nor acceptable. It’s not my area of expertise, but let me know if you want to start a hostile work environment lawsuit. I have a friend from law school who can do it.”
That was all I needed. To sue ISEN. Then I’d definitely never work there again.
Our server returned to refill our water glasses, and I asked her to box up my food for me. I’d have to eat it later when my stomach had settled.
Aubrey leaned in and lowered her voice. “Speaking of awful things your boss said, between us, you have wanted to take things further with Evan, haven’t you? The thought has crossed your mind?”
“Well, yeah. But I’m not going to.” In large part because I respected him and his decision, but some tiny egotistical part of me refrained because Evan had such fantastic self-control that I didn’t want to suffer through the humiliation of being shot down. “But to be honest the delayed gratification and all that restraint, the anticipation, it’s actually kind of hot. I think kissing is way underrated. I’d forgotten how much fun it could be when it can’t lead to anything else.”
It was almost like my teenage self actually was getting to date Evan. I’d discovered that being with him was about the journey and not the destination. And so far we’d spent a fair amount of time dedicated to the journey.
Which was awesome.
Aubrey and I chatted some more as she finished up her lunch and then graciously paid the check. I thanked her, and we hugged goodbye after we walked out of the restaurant. She headed for the lobby and its elevators, and I went back to the ISEN building.
My sister was right. I needed a new job.
But whether or not to tell Evan? That was a whole big processing/f
reak-out for another day.
Over the next few weeks, Evan and I settled into an easy routine. We played basketball, and he went to his football games while I cheered for him (either in the Forest or from home). We played our video games, watched movies and TV together, made out a lot, and generally spent as much time together as possible around his schedule.
I got cute and funny tweets from him while he was on the road, playing in different cities. Like:
Or:
He also took me to meet his grandmother, and she was just as he’d described. Awake but unresponsive. She didn’t speak or interact with us in any way. It made me feel so sad for him, that he was so alone, and some feminine instinct in me wanted to fix all of his broken parts.
When he was away, I kept assisting Aubrey with the reunion stuff. I tried to convince her that I should be let out of my Reunion Minion contract. “I don’t think I should have to help anymore. This was conditional on me getting the story on Evan, and obviously that’s not happening now.”
“No,” she corrected me. “The promise was conditional on you being introduced to Nia. I actually feel like you owe me more because I got you both a new friend and a boyfriend out of it.”
She was kind of right. So I sucked it up and kept doing whatever she told me to do. And then I was the only one doing any work. Evan helped out sometimes, but he was busy, and Aubrey left with her family and my parents to go on their cruise.
I attempted to lure Rory into working with me under the pretense of offering her baked goods. But we’d been sisters for too long.
Cabo?
Rory said she’d be gone for about a week. Whatever. It was her life. She could burn it down to the ground if she wanted to.
I just needed to keep reminding myself that Evan was worth all the ridiculous grunt work Aubrey was forcing me to do.
Speaking of feeling like I was forced to do things, work was the worst part of my life. Brenda spoke to me about once a week to ask if I had an update for her yet. When I said I didn’t, she had another reprimand form for me to sign, which I continued to refuse to do. I didn’t know how many forms I could get before her cousin in Human Resources called me in to let me go, but I knew I had to be close.
Or maybe I wasn’t. Maybe Brenda intended to keep me around and torment me endlessly with her reprimands and dirty looks. They weren’t paying me, so it wasn’t like it affected her bottom line.
She also wasn’t assigning me any tasks. When I asked the other interns if they needed help, I got rejected at every turn. Like they didn’t want to be tainted by associating with me. Which I understood, but I was really bored.
Sometimes I wondered if Brenda hoped that I would break. If she was waiting to see if things with Evan and me would end and then she could manipulate me into saying whatever she wanted because I’d be all heartbroken and angry again.
I attempted to look for other jobs, but nothing was happening on that front. I thought my best bet would be to try and transfer into another department at ISEN. I checked the company job postings daily. I would have been happy in any position—anything to get me out from under Brenda’s thumb and keep me on the right career track.
Unfortunately, the people doing the hiring weren’t interested in talking to me because I was Brenda’s intern. No one was willing to cross her by “stealing” me away.
Which probably meant that in order to keep pursuing my dream, I’d have to move to a different city.
And leave Evan behind.
It felt like there were no good solutions. And the stress of my situation was making me sick. I had some awful flu-like symptoms that I managed with over-the-counter medications. I kept warning Evan to keep his distance—the last thing he needed right now was to fall ill, but he insisted on cuddling with me and kissing me regardless. He told me he had an incredible immune system, and it seemed to be true.
About a week after my lunch with Aubrey, he came by after practice and collapsed on my couch. On his more physically intense days, we just quietly watched a show together and relaxed. I wondered what it would be like to be with him in the off-season. Obviously he’d still work out and train, just not at this same intensity.
My throat had been scratchy and raw the last couple of days, and I was trying to drink some herbal tea with honey to soothe the inflammation. But every time I swallowed, it only seemed to get worse. I tried forcing a cough, but that just made me feel like my throat lining had both caught on fire and was being stabbed simultaneously.
Evan noticed my distress. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. I’m in a lot of pain in my throat.”
He leaned over, as if he meant to examine me, and I backed up. “No way. This might be strep throat, and I’m not giving that to you.”
“If you’ve had it for a couple of days, then I probably have it, too.”
Oh no, I really would be one of those girlfriends who cursed her significant other’s football career.
That pain spiked again, somehow more intense this time, and Evan looked even more concerned. “That’s it. We’re taking you to the hospital.”
“I don’t need to go to the hospital.” Money wasn’t the issue; I was still covered on my parents’ insurance. He just seemed to be making a fuss over something that wasn’t that big of a deal. He felt my forehead, as if his hands doubled as thermometers. “I can go in and see a doctor tomorrow.”
Another wave of pain hit me, and I almost doubled over. It was getting worse.
And more frequent. The pain slammed into me even harder.
“If I have to carry you and put you in my car, I will.”
And I knew he could do it. Maybe he was right. I nodded and went to put on some shoes and grab my coat. Evan locked the door behind us, giving me a pointed look, and then helped me out to his SUV.
He might have broken the land speed record, but I wasn’t sure since I could focus only on how much I hurt. A throbbing headache was starting to blur my vision. My head felt like I could detach it from the rest of my body, like it might float away.
After parking the car, Evan basically carried me into the ER. The pain in my throat was constant now and getting worse. He called for help, and some medical professionals came running over.
I was aware of lights being flashed in my eyes and the doctor looking down my throat. I nearly vomited when he touched the back of it with some kind of swab.
“Are you family?” someone asked Evan. I didn’t know how much time had passed.
“I’m her fiancé.”
“She’s had some complications from an illness, and now she is going to need an immediate tonsillectomy.”
Then I heard words like severe infection, abscesses, and peritonsillar. None of it was making any sense.
There was a poke of a needle in my arm, and a heavy darkness started to descend.
The last thing I saw was Evan’s worried face as he squeezed my hand tightly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I came to in a hospital room. I felt a little disoriented and realized I had an IV in my arm. It took me a second to remember what had happened. I wasn’t in pain at the moment, but my throat definitely felt weird. Like something had changed.
Evan was asleep in a chair, the scruff on his chin making it obvious that he hadn’t shaved.
I said his name, and it came out as a croaky whisper. But he immediately responded.
He rushed over to the side of my bed and took my hand. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.”
“That’s good. When you first came to, you were really out of it and kept asking where you were and tried to rip your IV out.”
“Did I really? I don’t remember.”
“You’ve actually been eating and drinking today and going to the bathroom, too. Do you remember that?”
I had vague flashes after he said that but nothing that was clear. It was so weird to think that I’d been doing things like using the restroom and having food and couldn’t remember it. “No.”
Panic gripped my chest, my heart squeezing hard. Like I was ready to have a heart attack. At least I was in the right place for it. But I had texted Brenda? What else had I said about her or my job while highly medicated? What had she said? Had Evan seen any of our messages? “Where’s my phone?”
He pointed to it on that long, rolling table that hospital rooms always had. I grabbed it and checked for my message to Brenda. I’d told her I was having emergency surgery and was in the hospital.
“Did she reply?”
“She didn’t.” Did she not believe me? Not care? Would she use this as an excuse to get rid of me? Claim she’d never gotten it and say that I had failed to report for work?
“Do you want me to call her?” he offered.
“No!” I said the word so forcefully that it actually hurt. “No, thank you. I’ll take care of it.”
“I guess it shouldn’t really surprise me that you don’t remember all of that stuff because you’ve been in and out all day. Hopefully you’re more awake now.”
“What time is it?” I asked, both wanting the answer and to change the subject. Like I didn’t have my phone in my hands and couldn’t check for myself.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. “It’s seven o’clock at night. You’ve been here for twenty-four hours.” Then he leaned over and kissed me softly, and it was nearly as good as my morphine drip. “I was really worried about you,” he said. And there was a look in his eyes I hadn’t seen before. More than just affection or concern.
Something more like . . . love.
My heart fluttered in my chest.