Breaking Even

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Breaking Even Page 1

by E A Schreiber




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  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Synopsis

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Bella Books

  Synopsis

  Taking a leave of absence from her doctoral program was never on Chloe Amden’s radar. Neither was running away from a future she had been building for years, but that didn’t stop either from becoming her reality. Like the tides in her new coastal hideout, her life seems filled with the ebb and flow of change, though nothing seems capable of washing away the bitter taste left in her mouth from her days in university.

  Surely new faces and a change of pace could help her gather her thoughts. Leaving the city for Boothbay Harbor, the lure of salty ocean air and anonymity was enough to justify taking a job at a local boat shop. True to form, as soon as things become comfortable, Chloe finds herself facing new opportunities at a local school. With a substitute position and a circle of friends she never anticipated, Chloe’s newfound support system has the potential to help her navigate this uncharted territory. Then again, a mysterious English teacher and her friendship might just be Chloe’s undoing.

  Copyright © 2018 by E.A. Schreiber

  Bella Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 10543

  Tallahassee, FL 32302

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  First Bella Books Edition 2018

  eBook released 2018

  Editor: Medora MacDougall

  Cover Designer: Judith Fellows

  ISBN: 978-1-59493-576-3

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  About the Author

  E.A. Schreiber currently lives in upstate New York. While not entertaining new ideas for stories, she enjoys challenging herself to try new sports now that she is retired from collegiate athletics. Outside of training for some new event with Katie where one of them is inevitably injured, she can be found hiking, golfing, playing games with her family or relaxing with a new book. While her career path is still winding, she is passionate about the influence of culture on policy and pursues projects in the non-profit field.

  Acknowledgments

  First of all, thank you to Bella Books! I’ve loved reading the incredible stories you bring to the world, and now you’ve given me the chance to share mine. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

  Mom and Dad, thank you for raising me to be confident in who I am without condition. Your love and support surrounded me to the point that I never had to question myself or who I loved; I always knew you would love me. That gift is something that inspires me every day. You are the best people I know and have modeled for me what it means to be caring, honest, and open every day of your lives. Thank you for sharing your love with the world.

  To my sisters, Ashley and Chelsea, thank you for encouraging me through all of my insecurities and doubts, painstakingly reading through multiple versions with me, often at the most inconvenient times. Knowing I have both of your unwavering support and brutal honesty gave me the confidence to forge ahead despite myself. You two make me laugh, drive me crazy, and keep things interesting. Ash, thanks for all the long-distance chats, what the hell, it’s Christmas! Chelsea, I know I forced you to abandon your homework and spend hours picking through sections piece by piece, but look, you got your own section out of the deal! (How about that second chapter?) Greg, don’t think you didn’t make the cut! Thanks for being the best addition to our insane family, accepting me and my antics, and giving me all the life/academic/tech guidance I need!

  I have to thank Katie, Lindsey, and Maria. You deserve more credit than I can give for supporting me as I continuously change my mind in life and in writing and for always listening to me vent. Katie, thank you for, well everything. You’re the best, that’s all there is to it. Lindz, thanks for listening to my readings. Maybe the next book will be filled with magical powers. Maria, I don’t have the words, but I suppose I never have. I’m so lucky, and so grateful, that seven years later you’re still here and still helping me navigate the chaos. I love you. Thank you all for being patient, critical and supportive, as well as for providing much needed distractions throughout this entire process. I love you all and would not have been able to finish this without each of you!

  Finally, to my editor, Medora. I will forever be grateful for all that you did in helping me shape this work into what it is today. You put up with all of my annoying writing habits and rookie mistakes to guarantee we arrived at the best possible version of the story. Thank you so much for making me a better writer!

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all those who have summoned the courage to ask what they want out of life.

  Chapter One

  May

  As evening settled in around her, she gave in to fatigue. Collapsing on the reading chair they’d just packed in the back of the moving truck, Chloe took some time to regroup. Hannah was in the apartment, probably feigning exhaustion, a heap on the floor.

  It had been a long day. Moving out of a third-floor apartment didn’t make for a relaxing weekend. All things considered, it could have been much worse—like last year when they moved Hannah and her seemingly endless supply of belongings from a second-floor walk-up to the industrial loft she currently occupied. Talk about a gauntlet of scraped forearms, tight corners, and endless stairways.

  That’s what you get for having a lawyer for a best friend—a pantsuit collection to rival HRC’s and enough law textbooks to fill six bookshelves top to bottom. They had to have weighed a ton or more. She shuddered at the memory of the aches and pains they’d caused.

  Hannah had no room to complain about the quantity of things she’d helped Chloe move today. Hannah’s things had not only filled the largest rental truck, they also flowed over into Chloe’s Jeep for the trip across Baltimore. In contrast, Chloe’s belongings hadn’t even filled the smallest U-Haul.

  No, the most draining aspect of this move was not the physicality of it; it was the emotional toll it was taking on both of them. Together they had navigated their fair share of challenges since undergrad, but Chloe had assumed th
ey’d moved past that stage in their lives, that maybe things would settle down as they each transitioned into their chosen fields. That hope had evaporated rapidly. Chloe could see in Hannah’s face every time she didn’t bring it up that she knew Chloe was truly struggling.

  A slight breeze rattled her neighbor’s chain-link fence, reminding her that kicking back in a full moving truck in downtown Amherst might not be the most prudent thing to do. Then again, she had proven this year that prudence was not her forte. After three years here, she was escaping under the cover of darkness, departing for a leave of absence, thanks in part to the efforts of a faculty member she had once idolized.

  Time and space, that’s what she needed. There was plenty of both in Maine.

  Chapter Two

  September

  Wednesday

  The sound of an old-fashioned car horn blared its way into Chloe’s consciousness. The warmth of the covers tempted her to remain motionless, but the alarm on her phone would not be ignored. Grudgingly reaching out from under the blankets, she silenced it. Seven thirty felt incredibly early from the vantage point of a cozy bed. Realistically she didn’t have to wake up this early; the shop didn’t open until nine. But ever since college, when she’d discovered her potential for productivity in the morning, she developed the annoying habit of setting ridiculously early alarms. While it helped her finish papers and get readings done on time, she had much less to prep for when heading to a retail job. As she set the device back on her nightstand, it vibrated. Curious, she reached out from her cocoon one more time and checked to see what had come in.

  A text from Nora. Chloe stared at the notification on her lock screen, blinking twice to make sure it was really there. She felt the familiar tug of guilt. She couldn’t bring herself to deal with it, not this early in the morning. Really, though, responding later would be fine. That’s what she would do.

  She rolled over and pulled the covers closer still. Staying in bed meant sleeping, which meant not thinking. With her eyes resolutely shut, she told herself in two minutes she would get up.

  Another blaring car horn roused her from sleep and she groaned loudly. This time when she checked the clock, she knew she couldn’t possibly allow herself to drift off again. In her head she calculated the amount of time she needed to shower, make breakfast, change, and be out the door in time for work… She had at most a half hour.

  Ten minutes later, toweling dry, Chloe began searching for chinos and a T-shirt. Finally finding some wrinkle-free pants, she dressed, made a bowl of instant oatmeal to eat on the way, grabbed her keys, and headed out the door.

  The roads were still wet from rains that had fallen sometime last night. It must have been quite the storm; the ditches were nearly overflowing. The sky held promise now, though—no signs of any more storm clouds. There was virtually no traffic, which was helpful, considering she was cutting it rather close. Having a ten-minute commute was great but leaving twelve minutes before she needed to be at work was less than ideal. Driving a little too fast, she made it to the harbor on time, barely. Jacob wouldn’t be upset or surprised about that.

  Before meeting Jacob, she had imagined all lawyers as stern, unfeeling, corporate types. Not Hannah, of course, but retired ones like him she always envisioned the same way, out of laziness and maybe a touch of social conditioning. Jacob had blasted away any and all stereotypes she harbored. Finding him entirely approachable and generally wonderful, Chloe easily fell into friendship with the older man, appreciating his mellow demeanor and quirky humor. She was grateful not only that she found a job in his store when she desperately needed one, but that she also somehow managed to find a good friend in the process.

  Pulling into the parking lot, she wolfed down the last few bites of her breakfast and dropped the dish unceremoniously on the passenger’s seat. The street was quiet as she stepped out of her Jeep and headed toward the back door. The sun, cresting the tops of the nearby buildings, had lost its biting heat from earlier in the summer. The stillness that had gripped the town through much of August, when it was too hot to move or breathe, had loosened its grasp. She could almost feel change moving in; the weather was finally beginning to reveal traces of the onset of fall. She loved to watch the mellowing of summer as it gave way to the cooler dawning of autumn.

  Chloe’s focus shifted to the Boatery, situated between the town hardware store and the Moosehead Café on the corner of one of the older streets in town. Boothbay was a tourist town. The streets bore the unmistakable signs of tourism, but the town retained its character and charm thanks to the variety of historic buildings dotting the streets. Ever-faithful year-round residents kept the town alive during the harsh winters when the flocks of tourists returned home.

  Chloe returned her attention to the Boatery and headed to the back door. A gust of wind ushered her in, rustling her honey-colored hair. Catching a glimpse of her reflection on the door, she realized that the short cut she had been sporting in May now resembled a shaggy mane, long enough for strands from the front to fall into her eyes. Capturing the rogue hairs between her fingers, she brushed them back into place.

  Hanging her coat on the wall-mounted hooks, Chloe stepped in front of the small mirror Jacob had hung nearby. Though her face was still framed by the remnants of a tapered fade, the longer hair on the top which she liked to style was now nearly too long to control. While her mom was always shocked that someone with Chloe’s feminine face might be misgendered, Chloe knew her athletic, six-foot frame and close-cropped hairstyle did not register immediately as feminine and wasn’t bothered by it. She wondered if Pink had the same problem.

  Hannah had teased her that out in the country she might be able to embrace her inner woodswoman, and she realized she was beginning to look a bit more rugged than usual. It was always a challenge finding hair stylists who were comfortable cutting masculine styles on female customers, and she had yet to find a barber or hair salon in the area where she was confident that the stylist would cut her hair the way she liked it. She might have to dig out her clippers and trim it herself while she continued her search. She could at the very least maintain the cut until a professional could touch it up properly.

  Thinking of Hannah, Chloe was pretty sure that it was this week that she was starting at the new firm. They had texted last night, but that had primarily been about the best method to cook asparagus. The discussion had begun with a picture from Hannah of her dismantled steamer captioned “help.”

  Chloe shook her head. Considering how incredibly intelligent the woman was, it was impressive how flummoxed Hannah could get in a kitchen. And how resistant she was to admitting it. That was certainly one thing that hadn’t changed since their time rooming together as undergrads. Chloe had let her continue to delude herself last night while she coached her through the subtle art of steaming vegetables. She smiled. Though they were currently separated by more than five hundred miles, they still relied on one another for the most basic of tasks. Yes, she was definitely overdue for an actual call.

  Noting her arrival, Jacob, who was reading from Anna Karenina, greeted her with a flourish, bowing his head. He nodded toward an ominous stack of boxes in the back corner, then returned to his reading.

  “Jacob, how’d you know I’d rather unpack deliveries all morning than read even a chapter of Tolstoy?” Chloe called out.

  “It’s a gift, dorogaya. Thank me later.”

  “Seriously? Russian?” she called back to her boss. She could hear the chuckle emanating from somewhere deep in his chest as she made her way toward the boxes. She reminded herself to fact check Jacob’s Russian, assuming “dorogaya” was a real word, to see what he had called her. While he was well read and very intelligent, he had a penchant for fabricating details to add a splash of color to his conversations.

  She headed for the latest delivery, ready to ease her way into the morning. Receiving inventory was mind-numbingly boring and required little to no mental alertness. The most difficult chore of the entire operation
was managing to use the box cutter without slicing the packaging that encased the products—she checked the packing list—in this case, pairs of snowshoes. That and avoiding cardboard cuts. The bastard cousin of a paper cut, these had become the bane of her sporting goods existence.

  She liked Jacob’s choice of snowshoe. Incredibly lightweight, they were made entirely from recycled materials. The ergonomically designed packaging was environmentally conscious, too, which Chloe appreciated. The minimalist design eliminated excess packaging materials, which was great, but it was a pain in the ass to unpack.

  Then again she knew to expect nothing less. After all, Jacob was a passionate hipster from way back. His enthusiasm was generally contagious, at least after eight in the morning when Chloe was fully human.

  Jacob’s ownership of the Boatery was about as unplanned as Chloe’s employment there was. Experiencing a strong sense of wanderlust, he’d retired from practicing law and traveled the country. Finding himself in Boothbay, he’d come into the store and apparently never left. That was fifteen years ago. Jacob had fully assimilated. No customers ever guessed he was originally from Raleigh. Or what his previous profession had been, for that matter. Or that she was a physicist. Talk about some highly educated sporting good rental clerks.

  Soft music began playing on the stereo system, drifting through the store. The sound instantly lifted Chloe’s mood. Jacob liked music, but it was really Chloe’s presence that reminded him to play the mix CDs she had brought in for him to sample. Chuckling to herself, she stretched to relieve the kink in her back and decided that a little John Legend in the morning was never a bad thing.

  * * *

  Around twelve thirty Jacob left his desk at the front of the store to find her.

 

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