Page 13 of Almost Home
I sank down in my seat, a weird fizzy mix of disbelief and starstruck awe floating through my veins.
“You can’t do that.”
My spine straightened and I turned in the chair to find Wilder leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
“Do what?”
“You can’t offer for people to contact you. You can’t be trying to make friends with the clients. It’s not appropriate.”
I blinked, embarrassment searing through my chest. “I wasn’t trying tomake friends. I was just being nice.”
He tipped his head to the side. “Well. Don’t.”
I felt my eyes go wide but had no ability to tame my response. “Are you insinuating I’m trying to ingratiate myself with your client? Or… I honestly don’t even know if she is your client, but you should know, I’m not trying to do that. I wouldn’t. I hope you know that.”
He nodded fully this time, and wow, that must’ve taken a great deal of effort for a man who’d thus far only deigned to slightly incline his head in one direction or another when ordering me around.
“Whatever it is, don’t do it again.”
My jaw flexed and I wondered if it would be too far in the opposite direction of my desire to mend fences and apologize to him if I kicked him in the nuts.
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes dulled and he glared at me before turning and saying over his shoulder, “My office in ten minutes.”
And even though we were the only ones in the building, I looked around for someone to commiserate with. Someone to help me figure him out. Maybe someone to reassure me that the impending meeting wasn’t about to be Wilder firing me for insubordination or… or… trying to be friends with a client.
Disbelief flashed through me before I slumped down in my chair and searched my mind for calm—for that placid, can-do smile I’d worn so often in my life. I wanted this job, and I’d keep it, if I could. I needed to fill the gap of the next few weeks or months, and having something consistent instead of odd jobs through the agency was preferable. The tourist season wouldn’t really start until mid-June and even then, it was a shadow compared to winter, so my chances for finding seasonal work were limited. And I couldn’t take anything full time that wasn’t short-term because I hadn’t given up on finding a teaching spot.
Right?I hadn’t, had I?
I stared unseeingly at my computer screen while my thoughts chased themselves in circles over whether or not I really was still holding out for a teaching position. My parents had steered me toward teaching since I could remember—my mom and grandmother had both been educators. Two of my cousins were. It was a noble, wonderful profession.
Discovering I didn’t love the reality of teaching had gutted me, but I’d hoped it’d been a matter of circumstance. Maybe a change of scene coming back to Silverton would help, I’d thought. Plus, what else would I even do?
If I gave up on teaching now, I’d be starting over. And I essentially was starting at the bottom of the ladder since I’d only managed to sub on and off for a few months at a time since moving here. I had a long way to climb before any kind of retirement or even basic seniority and higher pay would kick in.
I didn’t want to feel stuck with teaching as my only option, hence the exploration and even my job in this place. Some of that came from necessity and not having enough work as a sub to keep me living comfortably, but a lot of it stemmed from the need to know I could do something else. I’d slipped into place as an admin for three different offices over the last year, and beyond other kinds of teaching, administration was really all I was qualified to do. I didn’t mind it, and compared to subbing, temping as an office admin and not facing down students bent on getting as much leeway as they could out of their unsuspecting sub felt like a cake walk. All of that said, there was thebut.
I’d taught a lot, and I’d made it known I wanted a full-time position,butif I took one, that’d keep me here. And having Wilder back made it feel like something was coming to a close. It had to be my time in Silverton, didn’t it? I’d never planned to set down roots, only waiting for some nebulous sense of closure. And now, here came closure incarnate.
If I abandoned the teaching route when all this wrapped up, I’d be wandering in yet another part of my life.
Thinking about that had literally never been a productive line of thought, so I refocused on the matter at hand. For now, I needed to keep my mind on this job. Maybe that meant apologizing sooner than later—before he could even get to the firing part, so at least I wouldn’t have to do it after and seem like I was begging.
I didn’t like it, but I’d resolved to do the thing today and I wasn’t going to let his jerky assumptions about my being nice to Juliet Christensen sway me. And I definitely wasn’t going to let it come after he reprimanded me again.
My heart pounded in my chest, the caffeine I’d had through my morning coffee burned to a smoky crisp by the adrenaline pumping through me and making me shudder. I could do this. I would do it. If he was going to fire me, I’d at least have my say and get that over and done with. Then I’d move on.
Hopefully just back here at my desk and not to the temp agency with my tail between my legs after my ex-boyfriend—and still the object of my every desire despite the frigid tension between us—fired me.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Wilder
Sarah paused outside my door.
“Have a seat.” As usual, I didn’t look up.
