Infatuation

Angel

Three days have passed since my date with Damian, and I’ve been replaying our interaction on a loop ever since. Saturday, I searched far and wide for remote job opportunities, not content to wait around for the other place to call me back. Yesterday, Genie and spent the day with Dina and Nacho—much to Genie’s dismay. My sister immediately caught on that something was “off” about me, so I dished about my date and tried not to sound like one of “those girls” I spent my early twenties making fun of.

Our date may have just been dinner, and was hardly the type of night people write romance novels about, but it was so imperfectly perfect, I couldn’t have asked for a better evening. This time I want there to be a second.

That was one night, though, and now it’s time to get my life back on track. I’m getting to the point, if I don’t find something in my field soon, I’ll have to take up another waitressing job, and I’d rather not because I know I’d get complacent again and end up stuck. Getting fired from my job at Harvest needs to be the catalyst to get my life plan back in motion.

Another hour of job searching passes and I’ve reached the conclusion I’ve applied for every job within a fifty kilometre radius, and that will be a terrible commute on the bus. Moving wouldn’t be ideal either. I suppose I could get a car but insur—

My Beautiful ringtone plays, interrupting my what-if scenarios.

“Hello.”

“Hello, is this Miss Blake?” a man asks.

Be cool, Angel. Be cool. “It is. May I ask who’s calling?”

“Garrett Nicholls. We spoke the other day regarding the freelance graphic designer position.”

“Mr. Nicholls, of course. I’m sorry. You caught me by surprise.”

“Not to worry, Miss Blake. I was calling because after speaking with you and reviewing your portfolio, I’d love to offer you the job.”

Be cool! “I’m so honoured. Thank you, Mr. Nicholls.”

“I’m happy to hear that. Now, of course, because it’s freelance, it will be on a project-by-project basis. We have a designer on maternity leave and need someone to fill in that gap, but there’s a possibility it could turn into a permanent position. However, I’m aware that people need to survive, so your contract will allow you to take on other freelance projects, so long as there is no conflict of interest or schedule.”

This is perfect. “That sounds great. Do you need me to come into the office to sign the contract?”

“Yes. Since you’re nearby, it’s easier if you could come sign the forms to keep the tax man happy. While you’re here, you can meet the project manager and other staff members so you’ll know who you’re communicating with via email.”

“This means so much to me, Mr. Nicholls.” Coolness has dissipated. “Sorry. I’m just excited, but you can expect nothing but professionalism from me.”

He laughs, and it helps ease the embarrassment over fan-girling a job. “I’m happy you’re excited. We need that kind of enthusiasm infused into our project, so don’t apologize.” He mutters something to someone else in the room, but must have his hand over the phone. “My apologies, Miss Blake. I’ve got to tend to another matter, but I’ll have my assistant email you the information and set up a time for you to come in at your earliest convenience. The sooner we get you started, the better.”

“Perfect. I look forward to working under you… er… for you? With you. I look forward to working with you. And I promise by then, I’ll have a better handle on English.” Even Genie is flashing me a sympathetic look.

When we end the call, I pick up my massive mutt and prance around the living room like a Disney Prince. “This job is perfect, Genie! No more days of you stuck inside alone. Finally, I’ll have a creative outlet again, and best of all, we’ll be able to afford food next month.” I set down my confused dog, who was none too appreciative of my impromptu dance, and she scurries off to the bedroom.

My instinct is to call someone to tell them. That person should be Dina, though she’ll be disappointed we can’t be unemployed together anymore. Even Hannah or Vida; but neither of them have found a job yet, so I don’t want to sound like I’m rubbing it in. So I do what any illogical twenty-four-year-old woman would do. I text the guy I’ve been on one date with.

Angel: I got a job!

Well, that was anticlimactic, because he doesn’t immediately open the message like I expected. I seem to have forgotten that he already has a job and is busy adulting.

After I get sick of waiting for a response, I call my sister to share my news, not wanting to listen to her whine about my new employment status, but wanting to celebrate with someone. We speak for a little over seven minutes before my phone buzzes in my hand, indicating a text message. I pull the phone from my ear while Dina is speaking and see it’s from Damian, but I don’t have a valid reason to hang up. Don’t be that girl, Angel. The girl who neglects people already in her life in exchange for someone new. Who cares how searing his kisses were, or how beautiful he made me feel. Pish posh. She’s your sister, and she deserves your attention.

“Angel? Are you there?”

“Oh, sorry. I was thinking.”

“Gee thanks. Glad to know I’m interesting.” She employs her usual sarcastic tone, but adds a laugh at the end, so I know she’s not offended.

“Sorry, Dina. Damian sent me a text and—”

“Say no more. I get it. Go answer your lover and call me when you know your work details. We can do a shopping trip for new office clothes one day this week!”

“I’ll be working from home most days. Pyjamas are fine.”

“Nonsense. If you’re going to join the corporate world, you need to look the part. Call me to let me know your schedule. Nacho and I will come by and help you prepare.”

Genie quirks her head as if she heard Nacho’s name through the phone. I give her a sympathetic pat, but I know how she feels.

“Thanks, Dina. I think I can handle it, but I’ll let you know.”

I hang up my second phone call in twenty minutes and click the text bubble to read Damian’s reply.

Damian: In mtng. So proud of u. Will cll aftr.

I giggle at his message, and something about him trying to covertly text me during a meeting makes me smile. If I get any cheesier over this guy, someone could turn me into con queso.

Now that I have one job lined up, I feel more at ease. I still need to search for other freelance gigs to supplement my income, but at least it’s something. One step forward is better than being stuck in an endless cycle of being undervalued and, at times, resented in a job I didn’t like. This is exactly what I need.

Things are looking up.