Page 9 of #Resort Love
Pushing that thought aside, I focused on the documents once more, skimming through the job description. The position itself seemed simple enough. I would start off as an intern and learn the various types of jobs at Mr. Farra’s company. His note explained that most of his employees went through the same process, making it easier to identify their strengths and to place them where they would be most useful.
It still seemed off; those warning bells kept ringing in my head. But it did make sense to have me shadow different positions. There wasn’t a formal interview, so my skills were unfamiliar to Mr. Farra. However, that unsettling feeling kept worming its way through me, settling deep in my chest. All my attempts to look at this in a positive light fell short. Nothing about Mr. Farra finding me and offering me a job made sense. Though, I would feel less guilty starting as an intern if I decided to take the job.
Going back to the kitchen, my headache started to growagain, and nausea had my stomach flipping. I dropped the envelope on the counter, deciding to make some cinnamon tea so that the spicy aroma would clear my mind and tamp down the sickness threatening once more. I pulled open the drawer to take more Tylenol when I heard Liam’s footsteps coming down the stairs. Reaching the bottom, Liam looked up and gave me a soft smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with warmth.
“Good morning,” I said, returning his smile. “Sorry, I slept all day. I didn’t even hear you come to bed.”
“Good morning,” he said, walking over and giving me a soft kiss on my forehead. “That’s alright, I figured you needed it. Are you feeling better now?”
Liam put his hand against my forehead, checking whether if my fever had gone down. “I still have a slight headache that’s starting to get worse, but I took more medicine. We do need to talk, though.”
Liam’s brows pinched together, confusion flickering in his hazel eyes.
Rubbing my chest, my heart rate sped up as I cleared my throat. “It’s nothing bad. Well, I guess it could be, depending on how you see it, but I don’t think it’s bad,” I rambled, trying to summon the courage to tell him about yesterday. I knew it shouldn’t affect me so much, but I had never been fired before. I didn’t react well to it, and it made me feel a touch ashamed.
I swallowed and looked down to the floor, unable to meet Liam’s eyes. “I was fired from my job yesterday,” I murmured, my face heating.
The silence that followed grew heavier with each moment I waited for Liam to respond. Looking up, I could see his anxious thoughts forming on his face. His shoulders were tight, and his throat bobbed, his eyes growing distant, and I knew he was starting to panic.
“But,” I quickly added, hoping to calm him. “I got another job offer while I was leaving.”
Liam’s gaze cut to mine, his face pinching. “What do you mean you got another job while you were leaving?” he asked, his tone skeptical.
I told him everything that happened yesterday, from running into Samian, to finding him and Mr. Farra waiting for me by my car. Finally I ended with Mr. Farra offering me a job, though I left out the parts where I felt uneasy. By the time I was finished, my body was so tight that it ached.
“And you think that it’s a good idea to take this offer?” Liam asked, his voice thick with doubt.
Rubbing my aching head, I closed my eyes, frustration building at Liam’s tone. “I think that yes, it’s a bit odd, but it might be a great opportunity for me,” I breathed. “You know how much I hated the Metro, and you know that I wanted to get out of sales. With this position, I’ll be starting as an intern. I’ll be able to learn about different jobs and find something that fits what I’m looking for. I’ll also be paid more. Doesn’t that sound like a good opportunity for me? For us?”
“It sounds too good to be true, Sybil,” he laughed roughly. The ridicule in his voice made my face flush, especially at the reminder of my father’s saying. I could hear his voice now, telling me with a pointed look:if it sounds too good to be true, then it probably is.
“I know it sounds too good to be true, Liam,” I snapped. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I would be getting a pay raiseandfind something that I actually enjoy instead of wasting my time complaining about being somewhere I don’t want to be.”
Liam’s eyes narrowed at the accusation in my tone. Wincing, guilt hung heavy on my heart. We both hated our jobs, but when it came time for him to look, Liam listed reason afterreason why it wouldn’t be a good idea. It would be too hard, too complicated, he would say. He would have to start back at the bottom and work his way up again. So instead of finding something new, he settled for staying miserable, content to complaining about it but doing nothing to change it.
Rolling his eyes, Liam huffed and shook his head. “And on that note,” he sneered, “I’m going to work.”
I watched Liam walk away, disappearing up the stairs to his office. Letting out a groan, I tipped my head back, closing my eyes. I didn’t mean to take out my frustration on him, but I’d hoped for him to take the news better than he had, and it didn’t help that this damn headache was getting worse again.
Sitting down at the table, I rubbed my aching temples, when pain sliced through my chest like a knife. I sucked in a breath, my hand pressing against the throb, which was growing sharper with every breath. My stomach churned and the world seemed to tilt around me as black spots danced across my vision. I leaned forward, resting my head against the table just as another shot of agony ripped through me, reverberating through my bones.
I slowly stood, my legs feeling like lead. Propping myself against the wall, I wearily made my way to the couch. My chest heaved from another jolt of pain that seized my body, and I collapsed onto the thick cushions, falling into complete darkness.
Several hours later,I woke to Liam scoffing as he came down the stairs from his office. Ever since Covid, he worked from home, and unlike the Metro, his company steadily allowed employees to work remotely. I opened my eyes, mymind feeling foggy. Liam remained silent, giving me an icy glare when he walked past the couch. Irritation snaked through me and my jaw clenched, knowing how he believed I was lazing around and sleeping the day away without a care in the world. He acted oblivious to the pain I was in—or he just didn’t care.
While Liam made his lunch, I moved to my own office so we could both stew in our frustration alone. Sitting at my desk, my headache eased, and I rubbed at the memory of the slicing ache in my chest. Like when Mr. Farra shook my hand, the pain quickly disappeared, but this time, it left behind an echo of discomfort, which was concerning.
Exhaling, I opened my laptop to find information on Mr. Farra. He left out his company name on the job description, and I hoped learning more about him would help with my decision. I also figured that if I was thinking about taking his offer, I should at least confirm if his company was real. However, after thirty minutes of searching, I couldn’t find anything on Ambrose Farra or Samian, though I hadn’t expected much from Samian, since I didn’t know his last name. Still, the lack of information on Mr. Farra made my instincts scream for me to refuse his offer and keep far away from him.
After a few more attempts of searching for him, I sighed, frustrated with the lack of results, and closed my laptop. I looked out the window, my brows furrowing at an old beat-up Honda, its color a faded blue, parked in front of my house. I couldn’t make out who was inside the car as they leaned forward, letting their head rest on the steering wheel. I watched closely to make sure they were okay, my mind flashing back to a fuzzy childhood memory of a shiny light blue car, similar to the one outside my window.
My face paled when the man stepped out of the car. He had aged quite a bit since the last time I saw him. He looked thinand shorter than I remembered, but his face and narrowed eyes were burned into my memory, still haunting my dreams.
My father made his way to my front door. I watched as he hesitated, looking back to his car as if he were rethinking this moment, wanting nothing more than to drive away. Slowly turning back to the door, he lifted his hand and knocked.
My body froze, unable to move. My strength evaporated. I hadn’t seen or heard from him since he left my family twenty years ago. It had been twenty long years without a letter or phone call explaining why he’d disappeared. But here he was, standing at my door, not noticing me while I stared at him through the window of my office.
The ache in my head immediately returned, though this time, it was from tension climbing up my body. My breath started to quicken, my vision blurring as cold panic set in.
