machine sort. At one time in her life, that something had been social work.
Sitting in the gas station parking lot, the memory of the day Health and Human Services called to offer her the job came flooding back. The celebration had been a pan of her mom’s lasagna, homemade garlic bread and a German chocolate cake with coconut frosting. After years of college and studying her butt off, Rach’s goal had been achieved.
And she’d been good at it. One mistake—did she need to torture herself because of it? Was it possible the real mistake had been in quitting social work?
Rach shook her head. After coming-to in an ambulance with the memory of two frightened children cowering in a corner of the room, the decision to leave had come easy enough. If those children had been hurt worse than the bruises on their faces...
No, she wasn’t ready to return. Maybe she never would be. She still had two months before her leave of absence was over. For right now, she needed to find out if there was something else out there.
She reached for the newspaper on the chair beside her and shuffled through the pages for the classifieds. Keeping an eye on the clock so she wouldn’t be late for the meatloaf and action movie marathon at her parents’ house, Rach searched for a new job.
Chapter Eight
The next week Rach spent her time scanning classifieds, calling every staffing agency in a hundred mile radius, and crossing her fingers that something amazing would fall out of the sky and make her dreams come true.
Nothing ever did.
Having just left another unsuccessful interview for a position she had no experience in and a job offer she wouldn’t dare hold her breath for, she was all dressed up with nowhere to work. So at Leah’s urgent request, Rach was on her way to The Martini Bar where she hoped to drown her working-man blues—or rather, non-working-man blues—in an extra dirty martini. Or two or three...
Every night that week Leah had been on a date with Rick, and though Rach was happy for her, she also missed her friend. When Leah did call, the conversation was Rick this and Rick that and their promising future— blah, blah, blah .
Duran Duran’s “Hungry like the Wolf ” played softly on the speakers and the hum of conversation and laughter filled the two-story brownstone. Soft, yellow light from wall sconces cast shadows, creating privacy for tables and booths made of scarred wood. A spiral staircase of black iron in the corner made its way to the second floor, which was narrow and crawled around three walls of the room, wide enough for booths and space for waitresses to deliver drinks and food. Black iron railing provided a barrier of safety and a view of the first floor below.
Leah sat tucked into Rick’s side at a round table at the back of the first floor, their chairs pulled snug together. Her gaze was captivated by Rick and whatever he was saying, completely oblivious to the world around her. Rach considered gagging to get her attention.
Love existed and she believed in it. While growing up, it had thrived between her parents, and their marriage of twenty-nine years was still going strong. Mostly it was the green-eyed monster causing her resentment for anything kissy. With all the chaos in her life, she didn’t care to put any effort into finding a relationship. The possibility of a crappy relationship at this juncture in her life would not bolster her ego.
Rach waved over a waitress and ordered a martini then turned back to the couple at the table. Dropping her purse into an empty chair, she sat down across from them and said, “Four dates in a row, huh?”
Leah beamed at her from across the table. “Rach, this is Rick Larsen. Rick, this is my best friend, Rachel Bennett.”
The man was clearly smitten with her best friend. It was written all over his face and defined by the puppy dog eyes and wide grin. She smiled at him, relieved the attraction wasn’t one-sided. “It’s nice to meet you
Sitting in the gas station parking lot, the memory of the day Health and Human Services called to offer her the job came flooding back. The celebration had been a pan of her mom’s lasagna, homemade garlic bread and a German chocolate cake with coconut frosting. After years of college and studying her butt off, Rach’s goal had been achieved.
And she’d been good at it. One mistake—did she need to torture herself because of it? Was it possible the real mistake had been in quitting social work?
Rach shook her head. After coming-to in an ambulance with the memory of two frightened children cowering in a corner of the room, the decision to leave had come easy enough. If those children had been hurt worse than the bruises on their faces...
No, she wasn’t ready to return. Maybe she never would be. She still had two months before her leave of absence was over. For right now, she needed to find out if there was something else out there.
She reached for the newspaper on the chair beside her and shuffled through the pages for the classifieds. Keeping an eye on the clock so she wouldn’t be late for the meatloaf and action movie marathon at her parents’ house, Rach searched for a new job.
Chapter Eight
The next week Rach spent her time scanning classifieds, calling every staffing agency in a hundred mile radius, and crossing her fingers that something amazing would fall out of the sky and make her dreams come true.
Nothing ever did.
Having just left another unsuccessful interview for a position she had no experience in and a job offer she wouldn’t dare hold her breath for, she was all dressed up with nowhere to work. So at Leah’s urgent request, Rach was on her way to The Martini Bar where she hoped to drown her working-man blues—or rather, non-working-man blues—in an extra dirty martini. Or two or three...
Every night that week Leah had been on a date with Rick, and though Rach was happy for her, she also missed her friend. When Leah did call, the conversation was Rick this and Rick that and their promising future— blah, blah, blah .
Duran Duran’s “Hungry like the Wolf ” played softly on the speakers and the hum of conversation and laughter filled the two-story brownstone. Soft, yellow light from wall sconces cast shadows, creating privacy for tables and booths made of scarred wood. A spiral staircase of black iron in the corner made its way to the second floor, which was narrow and crawled around three walls of the room, wide enough for booths and space for waitresses to deliver drinks and food. Black iron railing provided a barrier of safety and a view of the first floor below.
Leah sat tucked into Rick’s side at a round table at the back of the first floor, their chairs pulled snug together. Her gaze was captivated by Rick and whatever he was saying, completely oblivious to the world around her. Rach considered gagging to get her attention.
Love existed and she believed in it. While growing up, it had thrived between her parents, and their marriage of twenty-nine years was still going strong. Mostly it was the green-eyed monster causing her resentment for anything kissy. With all the chaos in her life, she didn’t care to put any effort into finding a relationship. The possibility of a crappy relationship at this juncture in her life would not bolster her ego.
Rach waved over a waitress and ordered a martini then turned back to the couple at the table. Dropping her purse into an empty chair, she sat down across from them and said, “Four dates in a row, huh?”
Leah beamed at her from across the table. “Rach, this is Rick Larsen. Rick, this is my best friend, Rachel Bennett.”
The man was clearly smitten with her best friend. It was written all over his face and defined by the puppy dog eyes and wide grin. She smiled at him, relieved the attraction wasn’t one-sided. “It’s nice to meet you
Similar Books
