Grounds For Disaster - Book one

NOW HIRING.

The sign taped to the bookstore window has been there for three days.

I know because I’ve spent the last two weeks walking this strip, handing my résumé to just about anyone willing to take it.

This sign is still up.

Which means they’re still looking.

And I need a job.

Seems simple enough.

I take a breath and push through the door before I can convince myself otherwise.

The bell above the door jingles softly as I walk in, and I plaster on a small, friendly smile as I step up to the counter.

“Hi.” I bend slightly, giving a small wave to catch the girl’s attention.

“Hey.” Her eyes flick over me quickly before she straightens. “How can I help you?”

I pretend I don’t notice.

“I was just wondering if you were still hiring?”

Something in her expression shifts.

Just slightly.

I hold out my résumé a little too quickly.

“Um...” She hesitates before taking it. “Let me check.”

Before I can say anything else, she’s already disappearing through the back.

I shift my weight, tapping my foot lightly against the floor.

My eyes drift anywhere but the counter—book covers propped up for display, titles lined neatly along the shelves.

I pull one free and flip through a few pages without actually reading them.

I already know how this goes.

“Hi.”

I look up.

A man steps out from the back, my résumé in his hand. His eyes drop to the page before finding me.

“Arden Reed?”

I slide the book back onto the shelf and spread my arms.

“One and only.”

His brows pull together.

“Weren’t you working over at Bell’s?”

My arms fall back to my sides.

There it is.

“Yeah.”

“Rick still managing over there?”

“Last I checked.”

He nods slowly.

“I know Rick.”

My stomach drops.

Of course he does.

Everyone knows everyone in this stupid town.

“Small world,” I say.

“Yeah.” His eyes drop to my résumé again. “What happened there?”

I glance toward the girl behind the counter.

She’s suddenly very interested in something beneath the register.

“I, uh...” I clear my throat. “It didn’t work out.”

“Didn’t work out?”

“Mutual disagreement.”

His eyebrow lifts.

“...About me continuing to work there.”

“Ah.” He nods once. “So, not really mutual then.”

I give him a tight smile.

“No.”

He holds the résumé out to me, not even pretending to consider it.

“Yeah. We’re not really looking for anyone at the moment.”

I stare at the page in his hand.

“It just...” I point toward the window. “It says you’re still hiring.”

His mouth presses into a thin line.

“Sorry.”

That’s it.

No explanation.

No we’ll keep your résumé on file.

Just sorry.

I take the page from him.

“Right.”

I slide it back into my folder a little too carefully.

“Thanks anyway.”

The bell jingles softly behind me as I step back onto the sidewalk.

The next place doesn’t even take my résumé.

“We’re fully staffed.”

The guy barely looks up from the register when he says it.

“Right. Okay.”

I shove the résumé back into my folder.

“Thanks.”

Two stores down, I try again.

“Hi. I was wondering if—”

“You can leave it.”

The woman reaches across the counter without looking at me.

I hesitate before handing it over.

“Do you want my—”

“I’ll give it to the manager.”

“Right.”

I let go of the page.

She sets it beneath the register.

She doesn’t ask my name.

By the fourth place, I stop smiling.

“Hi, I was just—”

“We’re not hiring.”

I blink.

The woman goes back to whatever she was doing.

“Right. Sorry.”

I’m halfway to the door before it hits me.

I didn’t even finish the question.

By the time I cross the street to Joe’s, afternoon has started bleeding into evening.

My folder feels lighter than it did this morning.

Not because I’ve handed out enough résumés.

Because I’ve stopped bothering to put the rejected ones back properly.

I push through the door.

The smell of coffee hits me first.

Then the low hum of conversation. The hiss of the espresso machine. Someone typing near the window.

Familiar.

Thank God.

“Hey, Joe.”

I lift a hand as I walk in.

Joe glances up from behind the counter, a towel slung over his shoulder.

“You’re late.”

I stop.

“For what?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs. “Feels like you’re usually here by now.”

I raise a brow. “Did you miss me?”

“Hmm.” He pretends to think about it. “Do I miss you loitering around my café? Not particularly.”

“Whatever. I set the atmosphere.”

“You scare away paying customers.”

“I bring charm to this establishment.”

He snorts, “Not the word that I would use.”

I start to open my mouth to fire something back when my shoulder hits something solid.

The folder slips from beneath my arm.

Papers scatter across the floor.

“Oh, crap.”

I spin around just as a paper cup jerks away from me, coffee sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

“Sorry,” I blurt, dropping into a crouch.

“No, no.” A voice comes from above me. “That was my fault.”

I glance up.

Kian Parker.

Of course.

I narrow my eyes.

“Watch where you’re going.”

He blinks once before a disbelieving laugh slips out.

“You walked into me.”

“You were in the way.”

“I was waiting for my coffee.”

“Well, wait somewhere else.”

He stares at me for a second, like he’s trying to decide if I’m serious.

Then his mouth twitches.

He crouches when he sees me gathering the scattered papers and reaches for the ones that landed near his feet.

“You know this is the pickup area, right?”

“I’m pretty sure I know where the pickup area is.”

He bites back a laugh. “Right.”

I rise, and he automatically follows.

“Arden Reed.” He glances down at the résumé in his hand. “Interpersonal skills?”

He looks back up at me.

“We’ll circle back to that.”

I snatch the résumé from his hand.

His smile only widens.

“Real funny.”

“I find you particularly entertaining.”

I give him my sweetest smile. “Glad I can be your muse.”

It disappears the second I step around him.

I make it a few steps before glancing back.

He’s still standing there.

Watching me.

When our eyes meet, he shakes his head, another smile tugging at his mouth.

Then he turns and heads for the door.

I head toward the table where Liv’s already sitting, her hands wrapped around a coffee.

“Well?”

I drop into the chair across from her and let the folder fall onto the table.

“Suddenly no one in town is hiring.”

Liv’s mouth pulls to one side.

“Not one?”

“Not unless you count the woman who shoved my résumé under her register.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Neither would I.”

Liv sighs and pulls a loose résumé from my folder, skimming over it.

“Maybe your résumé isn’t strong enough.”

A laugh slips out of me, completely devoid of humor.

“Yeah.” My brows lift. “I don’t think that’s the reason no one in town wants to hire me.”

Liv looks at me for a moment.

“Come on. Some new piece of gossip will come around and they’ll forget all about you.”

“Not in a town like this.”

She sighs and leans forward, absentmindedly straightening the collar of my shirt.

“Did you try the bookstore?”

“Yes.”

“The hardware store?”

Her fingers move to my sleeve, smoothing the cuff.

“Yeah.”

“The grocery store on the corner?”

She brushes an invisible speck from my shoulder.

“Yes, Liv.”

I lean away from her.

“Would you stop doing that?”

“I’m just making sure you look presentable.”

“I look fine.”

“Your cuff was folded under.”

“For Christ’s sake,” I groan. “The grocery store manager didn’t decide not to hire me because of my damn cuffs.”

“Managers look at presentation.”

“Pretty sure getting fired looks worse than a folded cuff.”

Liv gives me a look.

I exhale, dragging a hand through my hair.

“I’m sorry. I’m just getting really tired of being rejected.”

Her expression softens.

“I know.”

A mug appears on the table beside me.

“On the house.”

I look up as Joe gives my shoulder a quick pat.

“Joe—”

“Don’t argue. You need it.”

He walks away before I can.

When I look back at Liv, she’s already nodding.

“You need it,” she agrees.

She nudges the coffee another inch toward me.

I groan and let my forehead fall into my hands.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes, you do.”

I peek at her through my fingers.

“Liv—”

“No.” She points at me. “You know exactly what to do.”

I let out a frustrated noise and sit back.

“I applied everywhere.”

“Then tomorrow you apply everywhere again.”

She gives a small shrug.

“I’m serious. You have to. I can’t afford it.”

I stare down at the coffee Joe left me.

“I should just start drinking again.”

Liv’s brow furrows.

“How would that help?”

“It wouldn’t.”

I take a sip of coffee.

“But I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass.”

She smacks my arm.

“Ow.” I rub the spot. “What the hell?”

“You aren’t funny.”

“Clearly.”

“Come on.” She jerks her head toward the door. “Enough feeling sorry for yourself.”

She gathers her things from the table, tucking her phone into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.

I reluctantly push myself out of the chair and grab my folder.

“Someone will hire you,” she says as we head for the door.

Her arm settles around my shoulders, giving me a couple quick rubs.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

I give her a small smile and lean my temple against hers.

Maybe she’s right.

Someone will hire me eventually.

I just need to find someone who hasn’t heard why they shouldn’t.