Chapter Five

Tessa

It’s Monday morning, and I have a meeting with my boss. I’m back at the office, which freaks me out a little, but I suck it up, put on work clothes, and enter my building by eight o’clock.

All eyes are on me—at least it feels like they are—when I walk into the office suite, as if I’m flashing that neon tattoo on my forehead.

They all know I’ve been gone for a few weeks. That’s no secret.

Most likely they all know why.

I don’t make eye contact with anyone, and I wave hastily to the receptionist after her, “Welcome back, Tessa.”

After grabbing a cup of coffee, I head into my office and fire up my computer.

I go through emails until my meeting at nine.

Then I rise, walk the hallway to my boss’s office, and knock.

“Come in,” Charlotte Peterson says, her gaze never straying from her computer monitor.

Charlotte’s new, and I haven’t worked with her for long. Since I’ve been working mostly remotely, this is the first time we’ve talked in a while.

“Tessa, please have a seat.”

I do my best to paste on a smile and take a seat across from her desk.

“How have you been?”

I nod. “I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

Charlotte looks up from her computer screen and frowns. “I won’t beat around the bush, Tessa, and trust me when I say this has nothing to do with your quality of work. But we’re making cutbacks, and unfortunately we’re going to have to terminate your employment.”

The news should shock me. Worry me.

But all I feel is numbness.

“Tessa? Did you hear me?”

I blink. “Yes. I’ve been here for a couple of years, though.”

“I know. Unfortunately, shit runs downhill. I’ve had to make some decisions I didn’t want to make. You’ll of course receive three months’ severance pay and benefits. Then if you need to retain your benefits under CObrA, you can do that for another year and a half.”

Benefits, yeah. I definitely need benefits. Health insurance covers my therapy.

“I…” Words don’t form in my head. What am I supposed to say? Thank you? I should hardly thank her for firing me.

“Since you’re not being terminated for cause, if you don’t find another position once your severance package is up, you can always apply for unemployment.”

Right. Unemployment. That’ll make me feel good.

I’m upset yet not upset. A little nonplussed, actually. “All right. Is that all, Charlotte?”

“Yeah. That’s all.” She begins tapping on her computer. “You can clear out your office today if you feel like it. Your current salary will continue to be paid for the next three months. I can get all of that to you in writing for your signature.”

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

I leave, walk back to my office, not talking to anyone along the way. Is this truly not for cause? I’ve done my job to the best of my ability since the incident, but everyone knows I haven’t been myself. I’ve hardly been to the office.

Perhaps they did need to cut costs, and I was the obvious choice, since I haven’t had my head in the game lately. Maybe this is why I felt all the eyes on me when I walked in. Maybe everyone knew I was getting canned.

Whatever the reason, I don’t feel concern. In all honesty? I just feel relief.

Now I don’t have to go to work.

I have three months of salary coming. A decent amount of savings in the bank. I’ll be fine.

And if I’m not?

I can’t go there. Absolutely can’t go there. I have to stay focused so I can get through Skye’s bachelorette party and wedding.

I laugh out loud—wow, when was the last time I did that?—as I leave the building with my box of items.

Well, now I have all the time in the world to focus on Skye. I’ll even have money.

You’re going to have to search for a new job, Tessa.

Yeah, I know that.

Skye’s back from New York now, and I should call her and let her know what’s going on with the bachelorette party. Which I would totally do, if I had a clue. Ben said he’d handle everything.

But now I have the time, and I need something to prod me along. Because frankly? I’m so tired of feeling like I’m trudging through mud, each step a challenge. My work was getting me up each morning. That’s gone, so I need something else.

Once I’m back at my apartment, I decide to call Skye.

“Ben Black,” the voice on the other end of the line says.

The phone slips from my hand and clatters to my floor, scaring Rita.

“I’m sorry, baby.” I pet her quickly and pick up the phone.

Ben Black?

Did I tap his name instead of Skye’s?

I look at my recent phone calls. Sure enough, Ben called me right after Skye did. I had my phone on silent during the meeting with Charlotte.

I put the phone back to my ear. “Hey, it’s Tessa. I’m really sorry. I thought I was calling Skye.”

“That’s not a problem. Always glad to talk to you.”

“Well, since I’ve got you on the phone, I have some more time to deal with this bachelorette party fiasco.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I just got laid off from my job.”

He pauses a moment. Then, “I’m sorry to hear that. You doing okay?”

Such a loaded question. I hardly know this man, and he doesn’t give a damn if I’m doing okay. How could he?

“As a matter of fact, no, I’m not doing okay. You know my past. I’m having a fucking hard time, Ben. And I’ve got this bachelorette party and wedding looming over me. The last thing I need is for strangers to ask me if I’m okay.”

Silence on the other end of the line.

This is not who I am. I don’t go around looking for pity by spouting out my problems or snapping at people for expressing sympathy. But I can’t bring myself to apologize.

For a moment, he says nothing, and just as I’m about to open my mouth to tell him I’m ending the call—

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that. Tell you what. I don’t have a lot on my calendar today. Why don’t I come get you, we’ll go have some lunch, and I’ll let you know what’s going on with the parties? I have to get the final details to the resort by tomorrow. I’d say we could handle it via a phone call, but I want to show you some photos.”

The parties are this weekend. Invitations have already gone out. Skye handled them for the bachelorette party because she knew who she wanted to invite. Braden is footing the bill for everything. Still, it will be small. Skye, Betsy, me, a woman named Kathy Harmon who used to date Ben’s father and remained friends with Skye, and her other bridesmaid, Daniela Cruise.

So far as I know, they’ve all RSVPed yes.

Why wouldn’t they? An all-expense-paid trip to Jamaica? No-brainer. Old Tessa would be loving this. She’d be listening to reggae and shopping for bikinis.

I sigh into the phone. “Yeah, sure. Let’s have lunch.” Why not? He seems like a nice guy, and I’m unemployed. I may as well take the free meal.

“I’ll be by around noon to pick you up,” Ben says. “Just watch for Sherlock.”

“Fine.”

This time, my skin doesn’t prickle at the thought of seeing Ben. I have no reason to fear him. Sherlock drove me home Friday night and nothing happened. Ben saw me to my door, even helped me take Rita out, and nothing happened.

Funny. A year ago, if I’d lost my job, I’d be devastated.

Today I don’t even feel it.

…

I sit across from Ben in a booth at a local diner.

I try not to look at him, but my gaze keeps getting drawn to his face. To his warm brown eyes.

The whole world knows his reputation as a ladies’ man, but his eyes… They seem so kind and comforting. As if you could tumble into them and land safely.

Part of me wants to lose myself in them.

And that feeling? It scares me.

It scares me how attractive I find him.

And it scares me that I’m not more scared.

“The Reuben is great here,” Ben says, perusing his menu.

“I’m not a fan of sauerkraut.”

He peeks over the top of his menu. “What kind of food do you like?”

“Normally I eat most anything. But lately I’ve been living on bacon and ice cream.”

He laughs then, and it’s a joyful sound. It’s not forced, and it’s perfect. I made him laugh. Granted, I didn’t mean to, but I’m glad I did.

And I’m glad that I’m glad. Which is strange, but why fight it? It’s okay to feel glad. It’s a good thing.

“It’s time you had a decent meal, then,” he says.

“You’re probably right.” I glance at the offerings.

“They make a solid burger here. My favorite is the black-and-blue burger.”

“I don’t like blue cheese.”

He laughs again. “Tessa, you just told me you eat pretty much anything, but we’ve already eliminated sauerkraut and blue cheese.”

“Yeah. But not bacon or ice cream.”

“If you tell me you don’t eat oysters, you may break my heart.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m a Bostonian. I love oysters.”

I listen to the sound of my voice. Those words were more animated than I’ve sounded in months. Maybe losing my job and going out to lunch with Ben Black wasn’t such a bad thing.

Ben smiles. “I should’ve taken you to the Union Oyster House. Braden and I have a standing date there each week. Did you know it’s the oldest restaurant in Boston and even claims to be the oldest restaurant in continuous service in the United States?”

“Uh…yeah. I grew up here too, remember? I also know Daniel Webster and JFK were big fans.”

“Make fun of me if you want, but Braden and I love the place. It epitomizes the American dream. We usually sit at the bar and listen to Charlie, Tony, and the other shuckers tell stories. Once Mickey—he’s retired now—invited us behind the bar and taught us how to shuck. It’s a lot harder than they make it look.”

“Fascinating.”

I’m not trying to be rude, but I thought we were here to talk about the parties.

And now I feel bad that I was belittling his interest in oysters—which is better than feeling numb, but still, I should say something more. “I’ve never sat at the oyster bar.”

“That settles it,” Ben says. “You and I. Tonight. Union Oyster House. We have a date to sit at the oyster bar.”

You and I.

Date.

My skin tingles.

Not in a good way.

But also not in a bad way.

I find myself wanting to smile, and I do. With my eyes, even though I’m not sure it reaches my lips.