Page 80 of Hail Marry
A giant weight drops into the pit of my stomach. Jess is getting a promotion along with her boss. Why isn’t Bob bringing me along withhim? “Felix is taking Bob’s position. He’s going to be my boss.”
Jess’s eyes balloon. “Felix? No! Gosh, that makes me even more glad I’m leaving. I can’t imagine working in the same office as him. Does this mean you’re putting in your two weeks’?”
I don’t respond right away. She talks about it like it’s a given. Inside, I feel a little sick. I can almost see Ryan’s face, staring at me with sympathetic pity because, even after all this time here, I wasn’t good enough for a promotion. “I don’t know,” I say, forcing a lightness I’m far from feeling. “Maybe I should stay on a while, make his life miserable.”
Jess throws her head back and laughs. “This is why I love you. Please do.” She sighs and looks at me, her smile fading. “How will I survive without you?”
“You probably won’t.” I head back to my desk as she crumples up a sticky note and throws it at me.
Thank heaven there’s only an hour left in the day because my focus is officially shot. What am I going to do?
Rush home and jump on the call with Preston. That’s what. I can figure everything else out after.
I hop on the call a few minutes late, but it sounds like Preston just got on. Luca and Zach are both there already.
Preston sounds like he’s in a rush, so he gets straight to the point. Our interview with immigration is officially on the schedule: August 6th.
The interview. It’s been in the back of my mind because Preston mentioned it weeks ago, but at that point, there was already enough going on that I didn’t think much of it. Now I’m thinking very much of it.
Luca must be on the same wavelength because we ask about the interview simultaneously, talking over each other for a second before we both stop.
“Wait,” Preston says, “are you guys not in the same place?”
“Tori’s in L.A.,” Luca says.
“For the day?”
There’s a pause.
“Uh, no. I live here.”
Another pause, and I cringe. I can only imagine Zach is on the verge of having an aneurysm.
“You guys still aren’t living together?” Preston asks.
“Tori’s got her job in L.A.,” Zach explains, “and since Luca’s been busy with training?—”
“Right, right,” Preston says. “It’s just…it doesn’t look great to immigration if you’re living apart, and they’ll definitely dive into that in the interview. It’s a big red flag.”
The last thing we need is more red flags. We’ve got more of those than all of Tinder’s private messages combined.
I think of my meeting with Bob today, of how long I’ve been working this job I don’t even like. Of how I’m about to get saddled with a boss I can’t stand.
I think of Luca. His future in the NFL, which hinges on the strength of our marriage—the perceived strength of it, at least. I think of the sincerity in his eyes when he told me I could come live in San Diego while I figure out my life. I think of the time he asked me what our plan was for when the season starts, a conversation we said we’d have but haven’t gotten around to.
I know he doesn’t want to pressure me, but I’m sure this is all weighing on his mind. This is the difference between his playing in the NFL and being deported as a criminal.
“Oh,” I say in a breezy voice, “well, that’s fine. I’m moving in before then. Just wrapping stuff up at work.” Even as I say it, I feel a burden slip from my shoulders.
I’m going to live in San Diego. On the beach. I won’t be going in to work with a boss I can’t stand and without Jess. I’ll have free time—time to figure out what I want to do with my life.
Excitement starts filtering through me.
Preston lets out an audible breath of relief. “Fantastic. Definitely the right move. Listen, I’ve got to run, but I just wanted to update you with the interview date. I’ll get an email sent over with an explanation so you know what’s coming, okay?”
I wonder if there’s ever a time when hedoesn’thave to run somewhere. One day, maybe I’ll be important enough to sign off on calls the way he does. In my current status, though, I’m more often the person on hold waiting for important people.
But not for long…
