Page 5 of Single-Minded
I led him through the living room to the empty master suite that looked out on the lake, just like the breakfast nook and the living room.
“That’s quite a view,” he said, glancing toward the lake before stepping in the opposite direction, past the closets, and looking into the bathroom. “Are you not living here?”
“I am. I moved in on Saturday, but knowing you guys were starting today, I have everything either on the second floor or in storage.”
He nodded. “It’s gonna be loud. No way around it. You don’t work from home, do you?”
“I…don’t work.” I forced a smile, trying to cover how much that was messing with my head.
I could see him trying to puzzle that out. No job. Big house. Expensive remodeling project.
“I was an investment banker until three weeks ago,” I explained.
His brows shot up. “But now you’re not?”
“Now I’m not. I loved the job…until I didn’t. It was long hours, high stress, starting to become toxic. My boss was a condescending, sexist jackass.”
“Sounds like leaving was a good decision then,” he said as he checked something in his portfolio.
“Yeah.” Even I could hear the lack of conviction in my answer, but that wasn’t accurate. Leaving my job was the right decision. I nodded and tried again. “It definitely was. I’m just trying to figure out what to do with myself.”
“You don’t have something lined up?” His brow furrowed as if that didn’t compute.
“No.” I let out a little laugh, hoping that hid how I was freaking out pretty much full-time. “This remodeling project is it.”
When I’d left my job, I’d been fueled by multiple things: concerning news from my doctor, ongoing insistence by my BFF, Chloe, that my job wasn’t worth the stress and lack of respect from my boss, and chronic resentment at said boss. Walking out, seeing his stunned expression, had rocketed me to a natural high that had lasted for days.
“Levi said you purchased this place earlier in the spring?” West said.
I nodded. “It’s funny how things work out. I bought it on a whim when I was still working and living in Nashville. Had no idea what I’d do with it. Rent it out, use it for a weekend place... When I quit my job, all I could think about was getting away, out of the city. Far away from everything. Starting over.”
Recovering.
Getting healthy.
Learning to relax.
That was turning out to be quite the challenge.
“Gonna be rough for a few weeks,” West said, “with a work crew here every day, making a racket.”
“I figure I’ll spend time outside, floating on the lake, reading, gardening.”
“You garden?” He didn’t hide his surprise.
With a self-conscious grin, I admitted, “Not yet. It’s supposed to be soothing. Meditative. I bought some flowers to plant.”
Please, let it be meditative. Let me get swept away by it, taken out of my head.
My head wasn’t a good place right now.
For the first two and a half weeks after I’d quit, I’d kept busy by getting my Nashville condo ready to sell. I moved things to storage, painted, made some minor repairs, had the flooring replaced. I hired a staging company. I put it on the market a week ago and got a good offer right away. Then this past Saturday, I made the move to Dragonfly Lake.
Once the movers had left and I was alone in my new place, I expected to feel invigorated, excited, joyful. I’d done it. I’d taken a huge step toward changing my frantic, unhealthy life.
Instead, I’d been jittery, unable to sit still, nearly panic-stricken at the emptiness that stretched out in front of me.
My single-minded purpose since grad school had been to earn a shit ton of money, then invest it and turn it into a double shit ton. Quadruple. Tenfold.
