“Okay.” I do need sleep, but I don’t want to get off the phone just yet. Talking to Chase makes me all warm and fuzzy. I kind of miss him, and he’s been gone for less than an hour.
“Sweet dreams,” he whispers.
“You too,” I murmur. Good night.”
I press “end” on the phone and place it on the nightstand. I wander into the bathroom to go through my nightly bedtime routine. Once finished, I make my way back to the bed and collapse. I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow.
I awake the next morning to my phone ringing. I look at the clock. Eight thirty in the morning. Who in their right mind would call me this early? I look at the caller ID but don’t recognize the number.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hello, this is Michael Norris from the NOAA. Is this Olivia Barrett?”
“Um . . . yes,” I stutter, shooting up in bed.
“I’ve been reviewing your job application, and I’d like you to come in for an interview.”
“O-okay,” still stuttering and now in shock.
“Is this afternoon convenient for you?”
“Um . . . yes.” I can’t string a sentence together.
“Say around one o’clock?”
“O-okay.”
“You will be going to the Eastern Region Headquarters in Bohemia. Are you familiar with this office?” Holy crap, it’s practically right around the corner from me.
“Yes.”
“Great, I’ll see you then.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Goodbye.” I click off the phone, not sure if I’m dreaming. Holy shit! I have an interview with the NOAA. I jump out of bed and run straight for the shower.
Downstairs my mother is making coffee, if you call putting a cup under the Keurig and hitting a button making coffee. I hope she doesn’t have any more questions. I can’t take another cross examination. Dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, I take a seat at the breakfast bar.
“Coffee?” she asks.
“Please.” She picks up a mug and places it underneath the Keurig. I can’t live without this coffee maker. Thirty seconds to coffee can be a lifesaver. “Olivia, I’m sorry about last night, speaking to Evan wasn’t right of me.”
“Mom, you don’t have to apologize. I was out of line too.”
“I’ll try to be better about staying out of your business. I just want to see you happy.”
“I know,” I say. She places my coffee in front of me, and then walks to the fridge to get the milk. I decide to drop the bombshell that made my morning. “I have an interview this afternoon,” I begin, trying to sound nonchalant as I add a Splenda and stir.
She spins around. “Really, that’s fantastic! With who?”
“The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.” I beam. I pour the milk into my cup, and then take a welcoming sip. I need to wake up so I can be on my game later.
“What time is your interview?”
“One o’clock, right here in their Bohemia office.”
“That’s fantastic! You can tell me all about it at dinner later.”
“Um, I won’t be home for dinner. Chase is picking me up. We’re going out to eat.”
“Oh, okay.” She looks down at her fingers. That’s her make-me-feel-guilty look. The look that says I don’t spend enough time with her.
“I’ll be home early, we’ll talk then.”
“No, you go out and have fun. You’re only young once. We’ll talk in the morning.” With that, she takes her coffee and heads outside on the back deck to water her plants.
Normally, news like this would be cause for an immediate phone call to Brenda. But, since it’s not even nine in the morning, I’m not willing to take that risk. She’s worse than I am in the morning, and I’m not too fond of dying. So, I decide to send a quick text. If she’s sleeping, she’ll see the text when she wakes up. If by some miracle she’s awake, she’ll text back right away.
*Got an interview 2day! Call me when u wake up*
I hit send on my phone and make another cup of coffee. As I place the cup on the Keurig, my phone rings. Wow, Brenda must have to work early today. I pick up the phone on the second ring.
“Hey, girlie,” I answer.
“So, spill the beans,” she chides.
“NOAA,” I say proudly.
“Cool. What time?”
“One o’clock.”
“I’m working a swing shift today, come by after the interview.”
“Sure, you know I’ll need to talk,” I say with a laugh.
“We’ll have lunch.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Cool, bye,” and she’s gone. I make my way upstairs to find something appropriate to wear for a life or death interview.
I pull up in front of the dark glass building at a quarter to one. Easily finding a parking spot, I lock up the Jeep and head in through the double doors. Once inside, I scroll the wall to see where suite 202 is. I walk down the hallway until I find the correct suite. Taking a deep breath and smoothing my skirt, I walk in, having no clue what to expect. I walk over to the reception area.
“Hi, I’m Olivia Barrett here to see Michael Norris,” I state with confidence.
“Yes, he’s been expecting you. Please follow me.” I follow her through a set of doors, turn left, then another set of doors. She leads me into what looks like a conference room. “He’ll be with you shortly.” I nod my head, then she turns and leaves me to wait alone.
Just as I get myself settled, he strolls through the door. He’s young, not more than thirty five, tall with sandy hair. I stand as he reaches across the table. “I’m Mike Norris, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Olivia.” His voice is kind and welcoming as he shakes my hand. I smile back at him. “Please, have a seat.” He motions to one of the chairs, and I sit back down.
“I have looked extensively at your résumé, and I must admit I’m impressed with your academic record,” he says, while looking over what appears to be my résumé. Wow, he’s impressed with me? I know my grades are good. They had to be for me to keep my scholarship. “What makes you want to work for NOAA?”
His expression is pleasant as he waits for me to respond. I go into a rehearsed speech about how I fell in love with the ocean and want to help rebuild the beaches, and so on. He appears interested in everything I have to say, which I think is a good sign. He nods his head in all of the right places. Once I finish with my soliloquy, he looks back down at the papers in front of him.
“We have several positions available. One is a fellowship, which could lead to a doctoral program through the NOAA. This would be research based. There are other positions in the field as well as some in house assignments. What are your thoughts on these?” he asks.
“They all sound appealing, although I would really like to do field work.” I hope my enthusiasm comes through. “But, I would be up for anything.”
“When can you start?” He catches me by surprise. I am expecting the, ‘we’ll call you’ sendoff. He wants to know when I could start!
“Any time after this weekend,” I reply, trying to keep my excitement in check.
“Great, the field job is yours if you want it. It’s a mid-level position with tremendous opportunities for advancement. There will be extensive amounts of travel with this. Will that be a problem?”
“No, not at all,” I almost can’t contain my glee.
He pulls out a folder from his briefcase. He goes into specifics about responsibilities and salary. The job will take me all over the island, with most of the work being done on the South Shore in Nassau and Queens. Wait, what? “Can you come in for an official orientation tomorrow?”
“Yes, oh my God, thank you.” I almost jump over the table in jubilation. He stands up, and I follow suit.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at ten,” he smiles. “So you can come in and fill out all of the necessary paperwork.”
“Thank you again,” I respond. We shake hands, and he escorts me back to
the main entrance to the suite.
“We’ll go over what field work I’d like you to start next time.” I smile and nod. Turning, I head back out the way I came. I exit the double doors leading outside and start to smile. I mean really smile. I have a job! And, I start this week! Holy crap. Am I ready for a real job? I guess I’ll soon find out.
Once in my Jeep, I head toward Anthony’s. Brenda is no doubt waiting for me. She’s as anxious about me finding a job as I am. She knows I need to find an apartment ASAP. I just hope my mom doesn’t freak out when I tell her I’m now employed, and therefore, moving out.
Brenda is in the office finishing up some mundane paperwork when I arrive at Anthony’s. I bound in like a kid who’s had too much sugar. “I got the job!” I squeal.
She spins around surprised. “Really! They told you already? That’s awesome, Liv!”
“I know. I was just as shocked. I start this week. Can you believe it?”
“Wow that was fast.” She smiles. “C’mon. I’m finished in here, let’s eat and celebrate.”
I sit in the kitchen patiently waiting for Chase to pick me up for dinner. He texted me earlier that he was running late and would be here a little after six. I still have no idea where we’re going to eat. I wish my new job started sooner so I wouldn’t be so anxious about funds. I know deep down he would never let me pay, but I’d like to be able to if I had to.
I narrow it down to three places. Insignia in Setauket is a new steak house. Very trendy and very expensive. Lombardi’s on the Bay is an Italian restaurant in Patchogue near the ferry. It has an outdoor bar right on the water and fantastic views. The food is pretty good too. Lastly is The Oar House. It’s a seafood restaurant on one of the canals in Patchogue. It, too, has an outside bar, but the view isn’t as pretty. I decide to take the middle road and go to Lombardi’s. It’s not crazy expensive, and it’s close to home. I also know I don’t need a reservation for a Monday evening.
My mom is nowhere to be seen. I haven’t seen her all day. I wonder if she’s making herself scarce knowing I’m going on a date tonight or if she’s still sulking. Most likely sulking. If I had to guess, she’s at my aunt Ro’s house venting her frustrations.
At precisely ten minutes after six, there is a knock on my door. I open the door to Chase’s smiling face.
“Hello, beautiful,” he says with affection.
“Hi, there, handsome.”
“Have you decided where I’m taking you?” His lips twitch into a sexy smile.
“Yes, I have. Let’s go.” I grab my keys, lock the door and follow him down the walk to his car.
Once in, he says, “So, where are we going?”
“Just turn where I tell you to. It’s a surprise.” I paste a sly smile on my face.
“Okay, you’re the boss,” he concedes.
I give him turn-by-turn directions until we pull up in front of the restaurant. Since it’s Monday there is no valet, so he parks on the street in front.
“Wait there,” he directs. I love that he is always so gracious. He comes around to my side, opening the door for me. I step out onto the curb, and we walk toward the stairs that lead up to the front doors.
“It’s a nice evening. Let’s sit at the outside bar first,” I insist. He nods his head in approval, and we make our way through the restaurant toward the back entrance that leads outside.
The winds are calm this evening, making the bay appear to be made of glass. There are a few boats in the distance heading toward Fire Island, but the bay is otherwise empty. There are a few stragglers left from happy hour sitting at the bar, but that is also otherwise empty. We take seats at the bar that is right at the edge of the patio, skimming the edge of the water.
“What would you like to drink?” His manners are flawless. He is so sweet.
“I’ll have a glass of Sauvignon Blanc,” I answer. He glances at the drink menu, giving it a quick once over.
He turns his attention to the bartender. “Can we have bottle of Matua Marlborough, please?” he asks politely. The bartender nods his head and goes to retrieve the bottle.
Chase leans over and picks up two menus from the far side of the bar. He hands one to me and starts to read over the other. I have been here often enough to know what I like, so my only debate is which entrée to order.
The bartender comes back with our bottle of wine as well as a marble wine chiller. After presenting the bottle to Chase, he opens the bottle with a flourish and pours a tasting into Chase’s glass. Satisfied with his choice, he gives a subtle nod to the bartender who then pours wine into my glass followed by Chase’s. Returning the bottle to the marble chiller, he moves on to take care of other bar guests. Chase picks up his glass.
“Here’s to an enjoyable evening,” he says with the cutest lopsided smile. I smile back at him, and we clink glasses. We both take a sip. Mmm, this is good.
It’s a beautiful evening with a light southwest wind making it feel warmer that it is. The sun is glistening off the water as it sets. I look over at Chase, who is staring at me with those killer baby blues.
“Do you have any idea what you would like to eat?” His voice is low and raspy. I squirm in my chair.
“I’m not sure yet,” I murmur. I take another sip of wine. “I’m leaning toward the veal chop.”
“Hmm. Tough decisions,” he mutters while reading the menu.
“I thought we could sit at a table out here.”
“If that’s what you want, I’m okay with it.” I look over at him. He’s studying the menu like he’s reading an important document. He looks up and catches me staring. He grins as if he’s caught me with my hand in the cookie jar. I blush.
“Are you going to write a dissertation based on that menu?” I ask deadpan trying to conceal my amusement.
“Possibly,” he answers. He reaches over and places his hand over mine, which is resting on the bar. He rhythmically strums his thumb over my knuckles. It gives me chills.
“Are you cold?”
“No, but I’m getting hungry,” I answer. He grabs the attention of one of the waiter’s, and we are seated outside right away.
Chase orders Oysters Rockefeller knowing how much I liked them at Bobby Van’s. He orders me the veal chops, and the porterhouse for one with a baked potato and asparagus for himself. He also orders a small bottle of Pellegrino sparkling water.
“I have a surprise,” I say barely containing my glee. He looks intrigued. The waiter brings over the Pellegrino with two glasses rimmed with a lemon and a lime and scurries away.
“Are you going to keep me in suspense?” he teases as he pours each of us the water.
“I got a job,” I gush.
“Really? That’s great. For who?”
“NOAA. I had an interview today, and he hired me right on the spot.” A mercurial smile plays on his lips. Like he knows something that I don’t.
“That’s great,” he says.
“What are you hiding from me?” I ask point blank. His smile gets bigger. He knows something about this. I narrow my eyes at him. “Tell me,” I demand. He takes a sip of wine and puts on his serious face.
“Remember in my apartment when I excused myself for a few minutes?”
“Yeah.”
“I might have made a phone call to a certain company asking about a certain someone’s possible employment.”
“You did what!” I squeal, a little too loudly covering my mouth. He shrugs his shoulders and has the decency to look contrite.
“You have the qualifications. I just gave it a little nudge.”
“Why? How?” I am beyond stunned. I knew getting the job straight out of the interview was unheard of. I gape at Chase.
“One of our investors has government connections. As for the why, you can’t figure that one out? I want to see you happy. And getting this job means more money, which means your own apartment, which means more space. I told you, I will do everything in my power to ensure your happiness. I have the connections, why shouldn
’t I use them?”
I grab my wine glass, draining it. I pick up the bottle to refill my now empty glass. This is insane. I have known him for like a hot minute, and he’s finding me employment?
He has done more for me in the past couple of weeks than Evan ever did the entire time we were together. In fact, it was always the other way around. I did everything for him. Evan was so used to having things done for him, it was almost expected of me. Any time I went over to his house and there wasn’t anyone home, I would cook. Without me, he would have starved. The man couldn’t boil water. Not that I’m much better, but at least I tried. He was carless for a while, and I drove him wherever he needed to go. To work, to the gym, football with his friends. It was beyond annoying, but I did it because I loved him. I wonder if he would have ever reciprocated. I’m not used to being on the receiving end. I’m not sure if I should be grateful or fearful.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper.
“Then don’t say anything.” He is gazing at me, a ghost of a smile on his lips. He is stunning. I choose the grateful approach. For now.
Our waiter interrupts our intimate moment with our appetizers. Pulled out of my reverie, I remember I’m starving. The oysters look delicious. I hope they taste as good as I remember. Chase tops off his glass of wine and orders another bottle. I dig in, and they are as good as I remember. Now, where was I? Oh yes, yelling at Chase.
“I would have gotten hired somewhere,” I continue, trying not to sound like a petulant child. He looks up from his oyster.
“I know. You’re highly qualified. I was just trying to speed up the process. And since you are now employed, you can start looking at apartments.”
“I need to go in to fill out paperwork tomorrow. I start this week,” I share in between bites.
“That’s even better. Now you can go off and save the whales,” he chuckles.
“Not whales, beaches,” I clarify with a hint of annoyance. “They have me working in between Nassau and Queens, so I guess I’ll start looking somewhere close to the city.”
“This keeps getting better and better,” he quips. “You can live in Manhattan, not that far from Queens. Only a bridge separates the two.” His optimism is infectious.
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