Page 8 of The Arrangement

Emma smiled at her, blue eyes full of sorrow. "I'm hoping it will only be for a month, mid-November at the most. But to be honest…" She paused and sighed heavily, as if what she was about to say physically hurt her. "Georgia, I am tired. I've been trying for years to keep up with everything after Elaine passed—to keep it running in her memory." She cast a mournful glance at the framed photo of their younger selves with the keys to Hemingway’s. "But this was her dream. And my dream was making her happy."

I sat down and carefully took Emma's hands in mine. Hands that had helped build this place, book by book. That had given me my first and only job. The ones that had held mine when my grandmother began losing her battle with dementia.

"And you did your job very, very well, Em." Emotion welled up deep within me at the sight of the older woman struggling to compose herself as she nodded, clutching my hands.

"Let me evaluate in a few months,” Emma smiled, squeezing my hand. “And of course, if you need another job to keep up with, I will be happy to give you a glowing recommendation. I just hope Hemingways can get through this. "

I nodded, but inside I was panicking. Losing sixty hours a monthon my already tight budget was frightening—and not in the way that I might have to make more meals at home or relax my hold on late-night online shopping, but because I paid over twelve hundred dollars a month to cover what insurance didn't for my grandmother's care. I could have chosen another home that was completely covered, but it had smelled like old socks and radiated a sadness that I’d sworn I could feel from the parking lot. I hadn't even bothered to get my grandmother out of the car.

"Will you be alright?” Emma asked softly, her eyebrows pinched together as she studied my expression. “I hate to spring this on you. I hope you know I tried everything before I got to this point."

I smiled softly, squeezing the older woman's hands. "Of course, I have savings. I'll talk with Sarah at the coffee shop. I'm sure I can grab some hours over there."

"Shit,I wish you had asked me two days ago!" Sarah exclaimed genuinely. "We just hired someone, and he started training yesterday."

My shoulders slumped, and my once artfully curled hair lay limp against my shoulders as the drizzle continued to come down outside.

Shrugging, I sighed, "It's okay, but if something opens up, will you tell me? I'll even do overnight stocking. Seriously, whatever needs to be done." I punctuated the last sentence, hoping the desperation of my situation would stick. My friend nodded vigorously.

"Absolutely, I promise I'll text you immediately." Sarah set a disposable coffee cup on the ledge, pushing it towards me with a sympathetic smile. "This one's on the house."

Smiling thankfully at my friend, I accepted the free coffee and pulled my hoodie over my head before stepping out the door. The drizzle and rain made it difficult to enjoy the short walk to my house, and before I knew it, the warmth of the coffee no longer leached through the cup to my hands. Before I could reach out my stiff fingers to open the complex's door, it was ripped away from my grasp. My eyes raised from the ground where they were affixed to find myselfstaring at Sebastian Quinn, whose large body was blocking the entrance. I wasn't sure why I stood there staring at him for so long. It was like all of those curious feelings that had followed the great plumbing incident of 2024 came rushing back to me.

"Shit, Clark, you scared me!" He exclaimed, though he didn't look scared as he shook his head and stepped back from the doorway, allowing me inside. I huffed and scowled as I walked past him, holding my coffee close.

"I know this might surprise you, but I wasn't waiting outside on the off chance I'd run into you by the front door," I retorted, pushing my hood off of my hair as droplets clung to my eyelashes.

Sebastian rolled his stupid, big brown eyes and shook his head before turning to walk down the steps, though I swore I saw a smile tugging at the side of his mouth.

"You haven't beenon a date in months, Georgia!" Exclaimed Sarah, throwing out another sweater from my closet to join the pile currently building on my bed. "You need this. You need to get laid. An orgasm will do you good."

I rolled my eyes as I finished tousling my hair. The brown curls finally decided to lay just right, the small wave of my bangs brushing my brows.

"I can't believe I agreed to this," I muttered as I touched the liquid blush to the apples of my cheeks, just light enough to allow my freckles to show through. "I've never had any luck with dating apps."

I heard Sarah huff from the bowls of my closet, "Let's be honest, you never really try! This guy is hot, has a good career, and picked a place to eat. That's already three green flags in his favor."

"The bar really is on the floor," I whispered as I finished my look with a soft setting spray, already exhausted, and the date hadn't even begun.

Sarah whipped out of the closet and set down my beige trench coatand soft cashmere sweater that I barely wore because it was dry clean only. Who had time for that?

"Okay, I actually like the outfit," I admitted, surprised, slipping into the maroon sweater. Its soft material caressed my skin. "Can you drop me off? I wasn't about to ask for a ride, but my car is on the fritz again…" I trailed off awkwardly.

Sarah waved a hand at me. "Of course I can drop you off. It's barely two miles." She snapped her fingers after checking her watch, "And it's time to go! Let's not keep—wait, what's his name again?"

I paused to check my phone screen before replying, "Jason."

"Okay, let's not keep hot, blond Jason waiting!"

Despite my apprehension, it did feel good to dress up. There was always an unspoken energy in the air before a first date. Full of the promise of more or, at the very least, a nice glass of wine with a meal.

In just a short drive, I found myself at the door of one of the nicest Italian restaurants in town; the smell of garlic bread wafted through the doors as one of the staff opened to admit me. I had barely opened my mouth to the hostess when a tall blond in a grey woven pullover stood up from the chair near the door.

"Georgia?" He asked, his blue eyes shining while looking me over.

I found myself smiling in response and nodding. “Jason, thanks so much for asking me here. I love this place." Before I knew it, we were seated at a table for two near a fireplace in the simple yet elegant dining area.

"So, what do you do for work?" I asked, buttering a piece of French bread as soon as the waiter had placed the basket in front of us.

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