He lets out a short whistle.
“Always so feisty. No wonder the attorney thing didn’t work out.” He pauses and his eyes soften. “If it’s any consolation, I’ll miss you.” He sounds genuinely sincere.
I mentally sigh. This is why you should never date someone at your workplace—one minute you’re enemies, fierce competitors, and then the lines blur. Richard’s a dick don’t get me wrong, but he’s a dick with a nice face who also happens to be very good in bed.
“Fuck off,” I say gruffly.
He laughs one more time before walking out of the office. I groan and place my head on the desk that isn’t mine anymore.
Where did I go wrong?
* * *
“You were fired!” my mom screams through the cell phone. Then she pauses. “Who am I kidding? Of course you were fired.”
“Mother!” I yell in indignation.
“I always knew the criminal lawyer thing wouldn’t work out. You’re too rash, Chrissy; you think with your heart and fists instead of the incredibly brilliant brain I gave you.”
“Excuse you, sweetheart, I’m pretty sure she got her brain from me,” my dad’s booming voice chips in.
“Hey, Daddy,” I greet with a smile.
“How’s my baby?”
“Fired,” my mom replies before I can.
I roll my eyes.
“Really, you got fired?” my dad asks in surprise, then he clears his throat. “I suppose it was only a matter of time.”
I rub my hands over my face.
“I need help here, guys, not judgment,” I groan.
“We’re not judging you, darling, we understand. So, what’s the plan now?” he questions.
“I don’t have one, Daddy. I lost my job thirty minutes ago,” I reply dryly.
“Come on, sweetheart, you should have been planning something. How are you going to afford rent in LA? Or the bills? You can’t do all that without a job, Christine. If it was just you, I’m sure you could have managed, but it’s you and Noah. What do you plan to do?”
With a sigh, I rub my forehead.
“I have a migraine.”
I can almost picture my dad shaking his head. He’s a problem-solver, always thinking of the next step. He always has a solution; I’m just waiting for him to tell me what it is.
“Move back home,” he finally says.
“Say what?” I ask in surprise.
“You heard me, Christine.”
“I thought you would offer to help me find another job. Use those amazing contacts you have here. Or at least lend me money. I can’t just uproot Noah’s life and move back to Arcola. What would I even do there?”
“You have a problem; I suggested a solution. I think moving home would be beneficial. You’d be closer to us, and I’m sure finding work would be a breeze.”
“Yes, darling, you could take over the coffee shop,” my mom suggests.