THIRTY-ONE
Monday morning I sat outside Dr. Pelham’s office, watching her through the glass and waiting for her to finish a phone call. I’d spent the rest of the weekend after the fight with Foster holed up in my apartment, watching movies with Bailey and doing a chef’s tour of the junk food aisle at the grocery store. It was pathetic. I’d never felt so damn shitty. It was like having the flu without the chest congestion and fever.
But Bailey had informed me that I had every right to be miserable and mopey for a few days. According to her, it was breakup law. However, she’d also laid down the edict that by today, I had to get my shit together because it would be the first day of my new beginning. New job. New me. And, hopefully, in a few weeks, new apartment. Because God knows I couldn’t live next door to Foster anymore.
I hadn’t seen him since the day at 4N. And there’d been no sound from his side of the wall. So either he was out of town or he was sleeping somewhere else. Probably with blond amazons who wore fuck-me boots. My stomach rolled. I forced myself to sip my coffee, even though it tasted as bitter as my mood.
Dr. Pelham seemed to sigh as she hung up the phone and frown lines framed her mouth. She glanced over toward the glass, meeting my gaze, then waved me in. I got out of my chair, taking a deep breath to put on my professional face, and went inside.
“Hi there, Cela,” she said, shifting some papers around on her desk.
“Hi, Dr. Pelham, did you enjoy your cruise?”
She smiled, though it seemed a bit tight. “It was lovely. Thank you.”
“Well, I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to talk about the pos—”
“I got your email,” she said, cutting me short and pressing her palms to the papers on her desk. “And I’ve been on the phone for the last half hour with Dr. Foreman.”
“Okay,” I said, a little unsure of what Dr. Foreman had to do with anything.
“When you didn’t take the job before I left for my cruise, I gave Dr. Foreman the go-ahead to hire from the other candidates.”
I stared at her, my thoughts going blank. “What?”
“Hon, last I had talked to you, you were planning to go home. And the position needed to be filled. If I had known you were truly considering it . . .” She shook her head, then pulled her reading glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose, clearly distressed by all of it. “There’s no one I wanted more on my team than you. You’ve been a stellar intern. But another offer has already been extended and accepted. I can’t undo it.”
“Another offer,” I repeated, the words falling from my lips like heavy stones.
“I’m so sorry, Cela,” she said. “I will absolutely write any recommendations you need to apply other places if you plan to stay in town. I know that Dr. Murphy over at Banks Street Emergency needs a—”
“Right.” I stood so abruptly that the gust I caused sent papers fluttering off her desk. “It’s fine. I should’ve . . . it’s my fault . . . I just didn’t . . .”
“Cela,” she said, standing, too, worry on her face.
I pasted on some smile that seemed to belong to someone else. “It’s okay. Thank you, Dr. Pelham. For offering recommendations and for all that you’ve taught me. I’ll let you know. I just . . . I need to take care of some things first.”
She may have said something else, but I was already cruising out the door on automaton legs. I didn’t stop, didn’t go by the front desk to see Bailey. I just kept walking, straight to my car. By the time I stepped into the lobby of my building, I’d gone full numb, my thoughts locked in some suspended state. I was unemployed.
I had no job.
I had no Foster.
I had nothing here.
At the top of the stairs, I didn’t even see Pike coming out of his apartment until I nearly bumped right into him. “Whoa there, doc.”
I glanced up, mumbled a “Sorry.”
“Hey,” he said, putting his hand on my arm when I tried to walk past him. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I muttered and tried to move forward again, but his hand stayed on me.
“Look, doc, I know Foster is being an asshole. Believe me. But don’t give up on him yet. I think you two—”
“My job fell through,” I said flatly. “This isn’t about Foster. Can you please let me go now?”
Immediately, his hand lifted from me. I felt bad being a bitch to Pike. He hadn’t done anything to me, but I couldn’t handle talking to anyone right now, especially about Foster. “But I thought you had that job locked up.”
“Yeah, well, not so much, apparently.”
He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Is there another position?”
“Yeah,” I said with a bitter smile. “Back home.”
“Oh, doc, you don’t need to do that. I’m sure there are—”
“I have no job, Pike. No job means no money, no rent, no anything. I have a position waiting for me at home, a house, and my family. It’s where I should’ve gone in the first place.”
“But what about Foster?”
“What about him? I haven’t seen him in days.”
Pike stuck his hands in his pockets. “He’s out of town.”
“With Bret?” I asked.
Pike’s brows went up. “He told you about Bret?”
“No, but you just did.” My throat tightened until I could barely draw breath. I stalked past him and into my apartment, slamming the door behind me.
Screw. It. All.
I grabbed my cell phone and tossed my purse onto the kitchen counter. He answered on the second ring.
“Papá, it’s me. Everything’s wrapped up here. I’m coming home.”
“Well, it’s about time, mija.”
Yeah. It was.