Page 10 of Pulled By the Tail
“In a house?” Talen hadn’t lived in a stationary building since before he joined the IU Navy. How could he sleep without the constant background noise of ship engines?
“Yes, a house. Many people live in houses. It’s all the rage nowadays.”
“Smartass,” Talen grumbled.
“Imagine having a home and a mate,” Quil said, sliding an arm over Talen’s shoulder, like the male had no sense of self-preservation. “Imagine Bright sitting by the fire with a kit on her knee. Telling stories of Talmar.”
“I didn’t know you were the sentimental type,” he said, shaking off his brother’s arm. “Why not just purchase a house? Why this one in particular?”
“The moon violet.”
A flower. Of course. Quil had an extensive botanical collection in his cabin and had annexed parts of the ship, turning it into a garden.
“You swindled a man’s property away because of a flower?”
“It’s a rare specimen only found in certain locations, including Lerrence’s land. No one is preserving the habitat. No one even cares that the entire species could be lost.”
“Then we’ll go to the planet’s surface and collect your specimens.”
“No, that’s not the point. That’s not what I want.” Quil ran a hand through his hair, ruining his perfect coif. “Don’t make a decision right away. Let me show you the property.”
He sat at the console. Half the screen went dark and images of a rundown house replaced navigation charts. Stone with a slate roof, Talen saw only an unending list of repairs and renovations. The house was a pit they would pour the remaining portion of their inheritance into. “Perhaps it looks better in person,” Quil said.
Chapter 2
Georgia
Ms. Phillips,
Thank you for submitting your application for our rental property. Unfortunately, without solid credit history or current proof of income, we are unable to rent to you at this time.
“Why did you leave your last position?” The woman behind the desk smiled, Georgia’s resume in hand.
And the interview had been going so well until then.
Georgia sighed, digging down to find the strength and give a bland lie about wanting new challenges, or a position with room for growth. Whatever she did say, she absolutely could not, under any circumstances, tell the truth.
But why bother? The moment they checked her references, Kevin whispered poison in their ears and convinced them not to call her back for a second interview. That was the only reason she could think of to explain how she could have interviewed every day last week and not a single one considered hiring her. Georgia shared her theory with Freema last night and while her friend didn’t outright call her paranoid, it was strongly implied.
“Well,” Georgia said, “I felt a bit restricted in the last office. The company culture didn’t agree with me.” Great, that made her sound like a fussy diva. She’d have been better off with a wishy-washy response about wanting new challenges and growth.
“Really? I always found that company to be quite excellent. It’s one of my favorite poaching grounds.” The woman made a note at the bottom of Georgia’s resume. The frown told her that the interview was all but finished.
“Does this company allow supervisors to have personal relationships with their subordinates? No? That seems wise, because I dated my direct supervisor, we lived together, and found him screwing the intern in our bed,” Georgia said, having nothing to lose. “I’m sure you can imagine why I felt I couldn’t continue to work in that type of environment.” She gathered her bag and stood. “Thank you for your time. I completely understand if you go in a different direction.”
The non-drama llama direction. Shit, even she wouldn’t hire herself after that.
Five minutes later, the dark gray sky finally dumped the rain it had promised all morning. Lacking an umbrella—of course—Georgia ducked into a coffee shop. The cheery holiday music playing did not match her mood. She scraped together enough coins from the bottom of her bag for a small caramel latte and dumped two packets of sugar into the brew. Then, deciding that her miserable day deserved something nice, she added two more packets to her bomb of sugar and caffeine.
Despite the disastrous interview, she left with her head held high. Of course, pride didn’t put money in the bank, and her account felt empty.
For the last month, she’d been living on Freema’s couch. She honestly had expected to find something—anything—by now. Her bestie’s one-bedroom apartment wasn’t made for two people and they were wearing on each other’s nerves. Freema worked odd hours at the hospital thanks to her med school residency. She’d come in at two in the morning, starving, and make a racket in the kitchen.
Georgia didn’t feel as if she could complain about her interrupted sleep when she ate Freema’s food, used her hot water, and couldn’t contribute to the bills. She did keep the place tidy and tried to do as much of the cooking as possible, avoiding complete mooch-hood. Still, they were two adults used to having their own space. Georgia seriously considered taking what remained of her savings and finding her own place, but what she could afford terrified her, and she wasn’t that desperate. Yet.
The last month burned through her modest savings with one emergency after another. First, she woke up one rainy morning to find four flat tires on her car. A new set put a nice dent in her account, but then the battery went, followed by the alternator. Fixing the car was non-negotiable. How could she get a job if she couldn’t get to job interviews?
While the car was in the shop, she had to take the bus. While she checked the phone for directions, someone bumped into her and the phone took a dive into a puddle, because it was raining—of course it was. The phone didn’t recover from its brief nautical excursion and even the cheapest replacement set her back a bit, but she needed a phone for the job hunt.
