Urges: Part Three (The Urges Series Book 3)

by Corgan, Sky

  “Good. Then I'd love to have you on the team.” He beams, though the corners of his mouth quickly sag as he searches for another paper on his desk. “But first, we should go over some things. I'm sure you'd like to know how much you're going to be paid and such.”

  Naturally. “That would be nice. As I indicated on my resume though, it doesn't really matter. I'm just looking for something steady and stable.”

  “That's good to hear.” He locates the paper he was searching for and gives it a gentle shake to straighten the edges. “We start everyone at minimum wage. Since we keep a pretty small staff, you should get a full forty hours a week, and if someone calls in during the week, there's a pretty good chance you'll be called in for overtime.”

  I nod in acknowledgment, though inside, I'm sulking. Back to another crappy minimum wage job. What should I expect though when I'm grasping at straws, willing to work for whoever will take me.

  Kevin continues, “Since we are such a small locally owned business, we don't offer medical insurance or a 401K. I wanted to be forthright with you about that, because it's a big deal to some people.”

  It should be a bigger deal to his older employees. Not to me though. I'm still young, and it's not like I really plan to make this place my career. “That's fine.”

  “Good.” He looks relieved. “Well, I think that's all we have to go over. If you want the job, you've got it.”

  “I can't wait to work for you.” I hold out my hand to shake his. While I'm glad that I landed the job, I am a bit disappointed at myself for settling. Oh well, perhaps this is the new, humble beginning that I need.

  ***

  “Center it in the middle of the wall.” I sit on my sofa and point to the place where I want Gary to set my entertainment center.

  My short-term goal of moving out of my mother's house has finally been fulfilled. I've only been working at Hillenbrand Hardware for a few weeks, but as soon as I saved up enough money to detach my umbilical cord, I did. Now I'm broke as a joke, but it doesn't matter, because I'm free again.

  “Who knew you'd have this much stuff.” Gary wipes the sweat from his brow as soon as he finishes adjusting the entertainment center to my liking. He's been a real doll—a Godsend. While a relationship never bloomed between us, not in the romantic sense, we have loosely become friends.

  Every time I stop by my mother's work, we talk, and we've even gone out for drinks together once, which was a little awkward, but still kind of nice. He seems like one of the good guys—one of the very few left in the world. Always wanting to give a helping hand, even if that doesn't leave much time for him to take care of his own business.

  Today, Gary is helping me move into my apartment. Helping might be an understatement. All I've had to do was stand and point at where I want things to go. He's been handling all the heavy lifting. For being such a skinny guy, he sure is strong.

  “Thankfully, I didn't live with my mother long enough for her to want to donate all of it. We were getting to that point. She's been trying to get me to move back in with her almost since I first moved out of the house.”

  “All I have left is the TV.” He hunches over and takes a few deep breaths.

  “Get to it, Hercules. You can take a break afterward. I'll even have a cold bottle of water waiting for you.” I smirk at him as I get up off of my lazy ass to go to the kitchen.

  By the time I return, he's stepping over the threshold with my thirty-two-inch flat screen. It's light by comparison to everything else he's had to bring in. Hell, I could have carried it in myself.

  “You're a doll.” I pat him on the shoulder and push a bottle of water into his hand once he's placed the TV on the entertainment center.

  “I still have to hook it up for you.” He sets the bottle of water down and kneels to plug in the television.

  “That can wait. Come sit.” I walk back to the couch, throw myself onto it, and pat the spot next to me.

  “Do you have the remote?” He stands and gestures to the television.

  “It's in one of the boxes with my game system. Don't worry about it. I'll get everything set up later. Come sit down. You've done enough.” I pat the spot beside me more vigorously. The guy is a workhorse. His new girlfriend sure is lucky.

  “I just feel like I'm forgetting something.” He puts his hands on his hips and looks around for a moment.

  “You didn't.” My eyes widen in warning.

  He smiles at me warmly, grabs his bottle of water, twists the cap off, takes a big gulp, and then finally seats himself beside me. Beads of perspiration dot his brow, quickly gathering to cascade down his face. It is hot in here. Due to my lack of funds, I'm trying desperately to conserve on electricity.

  “It would have taken me forever to move all of this stuff by myself.” I glance around at the furniture.

  “It didn't take that long.” He takes another long sip from the bottle, staring off into the distance.

  “Well, I really appreciate it. I just wish I could pay you.”

  “You can pay me by helping me with girl stuff when I need it.” He smirks.

  Gary has been dating the girl he told me he was pursuing for about a month now—officially dating her. They got together shortly after we met, and I can tell that she makes him incredibly happy. It's nice to see him so in love, like I wish I was.

  “Trouble in paradise already?” I tease.

  “Not really. Things couldn't be better.” He reclines back on the sofa. “Our one month anniversary is coming up. I'm wondering if I should celebrate it by buying her something or if that would be too high school.”

  “Girls like presents.” Who doesn't? If you can think of an occasion to give me something, I'll take it. “Besides, nothing is more romantic than a man showing that he cares.”

  “That's what I thought too.” He scratches his brow. “I was thinking about getting her flowers, but I'm not sure what kind she likes.”

  “You can't go wrong with roses...unless she's allergic to them.” I screw my face.

  “Maybe I don't need your advice after all, because I was thinking the same thing.” He smiles, pleased with himself.

  “Well, aren't you just one of a kind? Twenty years old, and you've already got women figured out.” I give him a sarcastic look. In truth, he probably has us figured out more than most guys. Then again, he's in a league of his own. If I hadn't been having such a stupid pity part about Trent, maybe I would have been smart enough to pursue him when we first met. It's too late for that now though. We're definitely both in the friend zone for each other.

  “I think some of that was just common sense,” he lets out a short laugh. “But anyway, enough about my love life. How's work going for you?”

  “It's work.” I wrinkle my nose. While I don't hate my job, I definitely don't love it either. The store is empty most of the time. When it's not, Kevin makes me clean, which sucks. I mean, I was used to cleaning at my other jobs at the beginning or end of my shift, but it feels like I spend more time cleaning than I do behind the counter at Hillenbrand Hardware. Not to mention the fact that my guaranteed forty hours a week is far less than I expected. Most weeks, I clock in thirty-five hours, and for the place being filled with older employees, they never seem to get sick or need me to take over their shifts. I'm making enough money to cover rent and bills, but there's not much left for anything else.

  “If they allowed family to work together, I'd say you should apply at the restaurant.”

  “I'd rather not.” The thought of working with my mother is completely unappealing. Living with her was hard enough.

  “Yeah. It's not the best job either. I suppose that none of them are. A job is a job is a job,” he sighs.

  “You're a chef though. You should go into San Antonio and find someplace where they pay you better.” I quirk an eyebrow at him.

  “I wish I could.” His shoulders slump. “I don't think my truck could handle the commute though, and I can't really afford a car payment right now. You know how it is.�
�� He looks around the apartment again, and I can completely understand what he's saying. Life wasn't designed for young people to live alone. Rent and bills are so expensive that it's near impossible to save up for anything. If I had to pay a car payment right now, I'd be living right back with my mother.

  “Well, perhaps Ashley will move in with you soon. With your combined income, maybe you'll be able to do more.” The thought had crossed my mind to ask Gary if he wanted to be roomies, but I didn't want to mess up things with his girlfriend. Besides, we still don't know each other very well.

  “It will probably be a long time before that happens.” He brings the water bottle up to his lips and chugs until it's all gone.

  “Well, there's got to be something better out there for both of us.” I smile softly at him.

  “One would like to think so.” He glances at me, looking completely exhausted. “I should probably take off. I told Ashley I'd go over to her parents' place for dinner.”

  “Happy fun times.” I stand to walk him out.

  “Her parents are nice people. A little overbearing, but I suppose that's natural.” He shrugs when we get to the door.

  “I suppose it is.” I wouldn't know. My mother never cared about who I dated, and my father died before I was born, so there wasn't a paternal figure around to judge my potential love interests.

  “Have fun in your new place.” Gary's eyes dance over all the furniture in my living room and dining room a final time before he steps out the front door and starts walking to his truck.

  I stand in the doorway until he's driven out of sight, figuring it's only the polite thing to do after he helped me out. When he's gone, I come back inside and sit on the sofa again, staring at the dead gray screen of my television. It feels like the second phase of getting my life in order is complete. I landed a job, albeit a shitty one. I've moved out of my mother's house. Now what? Try to get a better job? That seems like the most logical next step. I really don't want to think about it right now though. I just want to lay back, perhaps take a nice, long bath, and appreciate the fact that for once things are going as planned.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  What is she doing here, and who is that hunk on her arm?

  If I could hide behind the checkout counter, I would. But she's already spotted me, so there's really no point.

  Marcelene's face brightens as she steps up to the counter to greet me. The man at her side seems oblivious to who I am. That's only natural. I don't know him. I wish I did though. He's at least six feet tall and broad with muscle. His gorgeous olive skin compliments his dark-brown eyes. The term tall, dark and handsome must have been made for this guy.

  “Fennel!” She reaches out her hand to take mine as if we're long-time friends. Nothing could be further from the truth. All she ever was to me was the human resources lady at Chilly Creations, Inc.

  “Hey Marcelene.” My eyes drift between her and the man at her side.

  “This is my husband, Marco. Marco, this is Fennel. She used to work with me at Chilly Creations,” Marcelene introduces us.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say stiffly. Of course, he's her husband. She's gorgeous. He's gorgeous. No wonder Trent never took any interest in her. Marcelene was already spoken for.

  “Likewise.” He gives my hand a firm shake before wandering off into the store.

  “I was so surprised to hear that you quit.” Her eyes widen in disbelief as if my leaving Chilly Creations, Inc. over a month ago is news to her. It doesn't make sense, especially since I had to come into her office to pick up my check. “Trent told me he was going to try to get you back. I guess it didn't work.” She juts her bottom lip out into a pout.

  “Nope. It didn't,” I sigh, unable to mask my discomfort with the topic.

  “Why did you quit, if you don't mind me asking?” She leans over the counter and starts playing with a display of miniature flashlights near the register. “I couldn't ask you at work, because there were too many ears around.”

  “One of the guys was harassing me.” I stare straight at her, wondering if she'll pick up on what I'm talking about.

  She rolls her eyes, though it doesn't seem directed at me. “It's hard working there. I know. Those guys can be...well, they can be guys.”

  She doesn't know. She has no idea what I went through with Trent. That wasn't just him being a guy. That was him being...I don't know what.

  “Well, it's over now. No biggie.” I trace an indentation in the counter with my fingernail.

  “You should have spoken to Trent if someone was bothering you. He's really good about getting that type of stuff sorted out. When I first started working at Chilly Creations, there was this one particularly aggressive gentleman. Trent gave him two warnings, and then he fired the guy. Trent takes care of his own,” she chirps her praise of the man she knows absolutely nothing about. All I can do is scowl, though I try not to let her see it.

  “I've already made my choice. I'm working here now.” My eyes flash across the aisles of hardware. Even though I've been working at Hillenbrand Hardware for a while, I still have no idea what half of the stuff is.

  She doesn't seem impressed. “Do you really like working here?”

  “It's not ideal, but it's okay.” That's the closest thing to an honest answer I feel like I can give her.

  “I think I remember you saying you wanted to work in an office.”

  “If I make it to manager, I eventually will.” I force a smile.

  “Well.” She taps her finger on top of the counter. “If you ever want to work for Chilly Creations again, Trent says you're eligible for rehire. It might not be the best job, but I'm sure it pays better than this.” For the first time since we began talking, I can hear the arrogance in her tone. She thinks she's better than me. She always has. It only comes out in subtle hints though, like right now. She's fake. Just like Trent. I'm glad I don't work with her anymore.

  ***

  I should have known better than to think that the bitch wouldn't rat me out. The very next day, a familiar and unpleasant face walks through the door of Hillenbrand Hardware, and I loathe the fact that I have to treat him politely. Because of him, I quit a job I actually enjoyed. Because of him, I can't go back to it. Because of him, I'll never trust an attractive guy again.

  “So I guess it is true.” Trent's eyes rove around the hardware store.

  “To what do I owe this displeasure?” I was able to hold back my angst from Marcelene. This is a bit too much though.

  “I need cable ties.” He points up at the row of signs hanging above the aisles. “Any chance you could lead me in the right direction?”

  Seriously? He could have gone to a hardware store closer to his house if he wanted to buy cable ties. The real reason he's here is because he wants to harass me.

  “Aisle eight,” I grunt, keeping my eyes narrowed at him as he disappears out of view. At least, this gives me time to muster up some snark for when he returns to the counter. Since I'm the only cashier in the place, I'm going to have to deal with him. Hopefully, he'll take his wares and leave, having just come to confirm that I've found employment elsewhere.

  I tap my foot, feeling anxious to see him again. Just knowing that Trent is in the building with me—that we're sharing the same space—has me on pins and needles.

  After what feels like a lifetime, but was probably only five or ten minutes, he rounds the corner back into my line of sight with the package of cable ties in hand. He tosses them onto the counter absentmindedly, and I begin ringing him up.

  “I'm guessing these are for your dungeon,” I can't resist saying, though it doesn't really feel like I'm taking a jab at him.

  “My dungeon?” he lets out a short laugh. When I don't respond, he says, “Well, they are for my basement, but not for what you think.”

  The transaction goes rather smoothly. He hands me his credit card. I swipe it and stick the ties in a bag. When I give the bag to him, I expect him to take it and leave. He doesn't though. Instead, he just st
ands there staring at me. “I was wondering if we could go somewhere to talk.”

  “If you haven't noticed, I'm working.”

  “I mean, when you get off of work.”

  “I have nothing to say to you. Our business is finished here. You should leave. I wouldn't want a customer thinking I'm not available to assist them because I'm talking to you.” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “What other customers?” He glances around. “This place is dead. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person in here.”

  He's right. He is the only person in here. He's the only person who has been in the store in the last thirty minutes.

  “Well, I have things to do. I can't exactly stand around and chat with you.” I shift my weight, hoping and praying that Kevin will come out of his office to check on me. That's unlikely though. As far as he can see on the surveillance cameras, Trent is just another customer, and it likely looks like he's chatting me up for advice, not that I'd have any to give.

  “Are there any good restaurants around here?” Trent leans against the counter.

  “There's a seafood place down the street that's pretty good.” I stare out the front door, trying to will him with my mind to leave.

  “What time do you get off from work? I'll take you to dinner.” His eyes flit up to meet mine.

  While I don't want to get cornered into spending anymore time with him than I have to, the idea of a free meal does sound appealing. As it is, the only thing in my cupboard is ramen. Not exactly the dinner of champions.

  Now I'm fighting an internal debate between my stomach and my mind. I know better than to agree to go with him. What happened between us ended when I left Chilly Creations, Inc. Still, I am a bit curious as to what he has to say.

  A customer walks through the door, and I sigh in relief, feeling like I've just been rescued from my own lack of willpower. “Look at that. A customer. You should go.”

  “He's not in line yet, and I'm not leaving until you agree to have dinner with me.” Trent flashes me a charming smile.