Page 36 of For One Night

Lola

“Anything available?” Millie staggers into the kitchen, grabbing a cup of coffee as I sit scouring the housing sites.

I lay my phone on the table, disgruntled. “No, kinda like my job prospects.”

“You’ll find something. In the meantime, you know you’re more than welcome to stay here for as long as you need.”

I reach over, giving her hand a pat. “I know, thank you.”

“Are you ready for today?” She eyes me skeptically.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I smash my mouth shut. “He’s been calling me.”

Her eyes are so round right now. “What? Why? Noooo. He does not want you back! Are you going back? Tell me you’re not going back! Oh my gosh! You are!”

“Slow down. Breathe.” I settle back into my chair. “No, but I am willing for us to be friends. Whatever that means.”

She falls back against her seat. “Shew! My heart is pounding. I thought he had dug his claws back in.”

“I prefer to call it brainwashing. It sounds like I had no control, rather than I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.” She grins wildly. “Insane, but definitely not stupid.”

“Shut it!” I stick my tongue out at her as I take out my notepad.

She peeks over at it. “The list.”

“Yep, I want to pretend I’m getting my life back on track, even if I’m not.”

“I’ll never tell.” She winks.

“I appreciate the backup.” I pick up the pen and begin to scribble. “I need to find a job, get my license, a car, and a home.”

“You also need things for the home: i.e., couch, bed, towels, lamps.” She counts on her fingers as she ticks off the list.

I glare at her. “Thanks, now I know I’m failing.”

“Oh, please. Hush it, you.” She picks at the grapes on the table. “By the way, I have a date tomorrow night.”

“Do tell.” I grab some grapes, waiting for her to dish.

A flush creeps across her cheeks. “Not a big deal, but if that status changes, I’ll let you know.”

I startle when my phone vibrates. I check the number, but it’s not familiar. “Lola Eastman.”

There’s a pause. “I apologize, I’m looking for Ms. Turner.”

“No, I apologize. I’m Lola Turner, recently divorced.” I cross my eyes at Millie for my faux pas.

“Alright, Ms. Turner.” She hesitates. “I’m Amy Jones with Kleckler and Hodge, are you available this afternoon to meet.”

“I am.”

“Great! We’ll see you around two. Stop at security and grab your badge. We’ll be on the fifth floor.” I’m about to scream but decide to dance in my seat.

“I’ll be there. Thank you.”

Millie sits patiently until I end the call. “Please tell me it’s a job.”