I clear my throat. “Can I have a moment of your time?”
“Sure. Come on in. Close the door if it’s private.”
I do as he asks, and then I sit down across from him. I clear my throat again nervously as I wring my fingers.
He watches me, concern on his face. “Everything okay, Angela?”
Nope. Freaking the hell out. “As you know,” I start before clearing my throat once more, “I’ll be done with school in a little over a month. It has always been the plan that I get hired on here.”
“Yes. We’re very excited to have you. I enjoy your work greatly.”
Well, that’s good. But it doesn’t ease my anxiety even a bit. “Thank you,” I answer, though I’m not sure I should have. “Well, unfortunately, I’m a bit worried.”
He looks confused. “About?”
“My position on the team.” He looks even more confused, so I continue quickly. “I don’t know if you know, but I live with London, and we had a bit of a falling-out. I’m moving out, and without getting into details, I’m worried that our falling-out may come into play with my becoming a permanent employee of yours and the facility.”
He hisses out a breath as he nods. “I see.”
“Yes, and I know you can’t give me a guarantee. Anything could happen. I could start sucking tomorrow.”
He laughs. “Doubtful.”
I smile at his confidence. “But I’m trying to figure out my next move, and I wanted to see what advice you could give me since my living situation will depend on my future here.”
He looks away, drawing in a deep breath. Silence fills the room, and I get a sickening feeling when he doesn’t look at me or acknowledge the situation for a good minute. Finally, he looks up at me. “Unfortunately, I don’t control hiring. I’ve delegated that to London.”
Fucking hell, I’m fucked.
I swallow back my tears as I nod. “I—”
He holds up his hand. “But I will bring this up to her, and we will discuss it. You have had only great performance reviews and were handpicked by her for this program. You’re an incredible worker, and I will firmly remind her of that. I know living together can cause problems, so I’m glad you two are putting space between yourselves and setting up boundaries, but honestly, Angela, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I see you in this facility as my researcher.”
I want to get up and bust a move. If I could cry without looking like an idiot, I would. I don’t know how that will play out with London, but I trust the doctor. He’s got my back. I thought London did, but I need to move on from that. She isn’t my friend; she’s my boss. Instead of doing a dance of excitement, I smile widely and politely at him. “Thank you. I appreciate you.”
“Absolutely. Have a great night.”
“You too,” I say as I get up and head out of his office with a lot more jig to my walk. This is fantastic. It means I can get a place for myself like a normal girl does, instead of mooching off my boyfriend. I know good and well Owen wants me there and would never feel as if I am mooching off him, but until I can contribute, I’d feel that way. Plus, this will give us some space so we don’t get burned out on each other.
I’m gonna miss him, though. I really enjoy sleeping with him—in both contexts of the word, but more so waking up in his arms. He’s just so warm and safe. I love the feeling he gives me.
I go to my desk, reaching for my phone to text him the awesome update since he is in some meeting or other this afternoon. We’re supposed to meet up once he’s done, but I can’t wait to tell him the news. Not that he’ll think it’s good news, but he’ll be okay. Maybe in a year, we can discuss us moving in together. I see a text from Jean, but I ignore it for a second to text Owen.
Me: We’ll be roommates only until I find a place. The doctor confirmed that he wants me as his employee.
When he sends me back a sad face and then a smiley face, I laugh. He’s so silly. I know he wants me to stay with him. I hit Jean’s name to find a screenshot and then emoji hearts with YOU HIT THE JACKPOT.
Confused, I hit the screenshot to find it’s Owen’s Instagram with a picture of me. I instantly get in my feelings. What is he thinking? What if my family sees this? But then, I can’t ignore how gorgeous a photo it is of me. I don’t think that often, but oh my God, it’s stunning. I’m looking off to the side—at a plant, probably, plotting how to get it out of there without anyone noticing—with this little smile on my face as I hold a wineglass. Plants are behind me with the fairy lights, and my hair is in curled curtains along my shoulders.