She pressed her lips together. “Well, it did. Just once, though, I was right there at my desk when it rang. I figured I might as well answer it.”
“Oh. Well, thanks. You’re heading out?”
“Yeah.”
“Going down to Failte?”
She hesitated. “I’m not sure. I’m going to get in touch with Caroline after I leave here. Anyway, I better go, bye!” She rushed out as though just being in the office was excruciating.
And she hadn’t looked at me throughout this whole exchange.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Daisy
I didn’t actually have any plans to meet up with Caroline; I knew she was in the middle of a big project, but I didn’t want Ian to ask me to hang out after work. The whole work day had been rather unbearable, though I’d done my best to just do my job and not let myself be affected by his presence.
Which was difficult, because I could feel his gaze on me, feel him watching me from his desk as I crossed the room to get some water, or as I answered the phone, or as I sat, with my back to him, typing things into the computer. And I knew, when I’d gone back in to get my purse, that he wanted to hang out, and that it would be difficult for me to say no to him if he asked.
Since I didn’t have any plans, I went home. There was no sign of Noah, and I breathed a little sigh of relief as I let myself into the building, then into my apartment. I changed out of my work clothes into yoga pants and a t-shirt, made some tea, then got my computer and went and sat on the couch. I resisted the urge of Facebook and instead opened up my resume and looked at it, then started browsing a few jobs sites. I had spruced up my resume after I’d left the salon, but I tried to tinker with it a little more, hopefully making it as enticing as possible. I decided to leave my time at Hard Tail Security off of it—I’d just pretend that I’d never worked there. It would be better than trying to explain why I was leaving after such a short time.
But that got me wondering: was I a horrible employee? Was this how it was going to be for me for the rest of my life? I’d go from one job to the next, either getting fired or having to leave because I’d gotten myself into an unbearable situation in the workplace?
I sent my resume to a few places, offices looking for admins, a hair salon looking for a receptionist with experience. A few of the job postings were ones that I had applied to before I got the job at HTS, and they were still open and looking for people.
After a little while of this, I put the computer down and went out to the kitchen to look for something to eat. I needed to go to the grocery store, but that could wait until tomorrow. I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. While I ate, I started wondering if perhaps I really was having a quarter-life crisis, as my mother had suggested. A colleague of hers had been writing a book about it. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea t
o talk to him. Maybe he’d have some insight for me.
After I finished my sandwich, I found my phone and called my mother.
“Hi, it’s me,” I said when she answered. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“I was just grading some papers, so no, you’re not interrupting anything. I was thinking of giving you a call at some point, though. Would you like to go out and get coffee this weekend?”
“Sure,” I said.
“I think that’d be good. We didn’t exactly end things on such a good note the last time, and you know that I don’t like it when things happen like that.”
“I know.” There was no point in getting into an argument with her, in pointing out the fact that most of the time, the reason things ended the way they did between us was because of her. “But, actually . . . I was calling because I was thinking I might like to talk to your colleague after all.”
“My colleague?”
I knew she knew exactly who I was talking about, but she wanted to hear me say it. “Yes, your colleague. The one who’s writing the book about the quarter-life crisis. You said that he was doing case studies and interviewing people.”
“Oh, Carl! Right. Yes, he’s still diligently at work on it. And he’d be more than happy to talk to you—I think it’ll be a good thing. I’m so happy that you changed your mind!” She really did sound happy, and for a moment, it seemed as though maybe I was doing the right thing. Maybe this was what I needed; it would give me some perspective, help me get started down a different path where I made better choices all around. “I’ll send his information over to you once we get off the phone,” my mother continued. “And that way you’ll have it if you don’t get around to calling him right away. What brought this sudden change of heart?”
I had been hoping to get the information without having to divulge too much, but that obviously wasn’t going to be the case.
“Is that . . . person still following you? The one you thought was stalking you?”
“Yes, he is. He’s rather persistent.”
“Interesting.”
“Interesting? I’m not sure if that’s the term I would use. Isn’t there some sort of . . . I don’t know . . . psychological treatment he could undergo?”
“It would have to be something that he wanted to do. Unless it was court mandated, that is. But it doesn’t sound like he’s done anything dangerous, or anything to break the law yet.”