Page 43 of The Guy in the Alley

I sent her a message back.

Im mindblown. Job hunting at the library as usual. I applied an hour after the listing went live and they called right away.

The pay wasn’t great, but I’d long since stopped comparing wages to what I’d been used to when I’d had my own business. These days, twenty bucks an hour was enough to put my chest in a vise of hope, anxiousness, and dread. Plus, the company had good benefits, both healthcare and dental.

Not that I’d need the latter for a while, I hoped. I was still recovering from an extraction without local anesthesia. I wasn’t gonna complain; I was lucky Ma stayed in touch with coworkers at the clinic where she used to work, but fucking hell, that Joseph bastard was a sadist. He was long overdue for his own retirement, but I guessed helping sad fuckers like me for free was a hobby of his.

I got off the train at Grand and walked five blocks to my doom, and I couldn’t shake the emotions stirring within. I needed this job. I was fucking desperate to feel a semblance of…fuck, I don’t know, being a human? A provider?

Someone who might look decent standing next to a cocky Cubs fan who ran his own sports bar.

I blew out a breath and peered up at the building.

One of these days, I’d get over Trace. I hoped. But right now, I couldn’t get him off my mind—and it was ridiculous. I’d spent less than two days with him, for fuck’s sake. I had no business acting like a love-sick idiot. You didn’t catch feelings for someone that quickly.

Even if you did, what did it matter? I’d just been a liability, as fucking always.

I braced myself and walked through the revolving door, revealing a large lobby.

I’d been instructed to head straight to the twelfth floor where this maintenance company had their offices.

I could be a maintenance guy.

I had plenty of experience.

* * *

Deep breaths.

I walked out into the cold and zipped up my coat, and I wanted to fucking scream. Those words—we’ll be in touch, Mr. O’Cleary—still rang in my ears along with a low rushing sound, but the hope was there too. The guy had seemed so positive, and he’d even asked if I was interested, considering I was overqualified. And I’d made it abundantly clear that this job would be perfect for me. Because it was a full-time position with primarily night shifts.

I liked night shifts when I didn’t have a place to sleep.

I hadn’t expected an official yes or no today, but I could usually tell if they were likely to call back. Here, fucking nothing. The interview had gone well, and I hadn’t felt the need to exaggerate or lie about anything. Building maintenance was the little brother to construction in a way. It was just a matter of maintaining all the things I knew how to install and build. Granted, my expertise lay in single-family homes, and running maintenance in apartment complexes and office buildings was a bit different, but I knew what I was doing.

By the time I veered right onto East Ontario, I’d let Angie know I was five minutes away, and I’d decided to stay in the city tonight. Ma was still fretting over my car and living arrangements, and she was under the impression I was working late today anyway. So if I showed up, she’d just grow suspicious and more worried.

I had my survival technique for the city down pat at this point. When Angie was off to work, I’d stick around for another hour or so, and then I’d go to one of the larger McDonald’s locations in the Loop, stay there till it was nearing midnight, before I found a dark corner the world had forgotten.

Recent mugging aside, I’d managed to avoid much of the violence many faced on the streets. I had my fair share of scars, sure, but it could be a lot worse. Because my rule of thumb was avoid, avoid, avoid. Avoid crowded places, avoid locations where crime was more prevalent, avoid junkies. I could think of a single exception, and that was when the weather forced me indoors. Otherwise, I’d rather take a snow-filled gangway than a twenty-four-seven open fast-food joint around Michigan.

As I rounded the corner, I spotted Angie across the street, heading into the McDonald’s. I picked up the pace and slipped between a horde of Asian tourists and a family with four kids.

Doing a quick count of my riches, I figured I could set aside four bucks for today. I could stretch that to get me through the day.

Say whatever you want about McDonald’s, but their dollar menu had saved my ass more times than I could count. Even more so when I came here with Angie, ’cause she had the app that contained more discounts. And occasionally free fries and coffee with my purchase.

I opened the door and found Angie by the kiosks, and I went over to her.

“Hey.”

She looked up from her phone and smiled. “How did it go?” She stepped in for a hug, and I gave her a quick squeeze and kissed the top of her head.

“I wanna say good, but he was fucking unreadable,” I replied. “I guess we’ll see.”

Angie did what she always did; she said she had a good feeling about this job, and then she distracted me with shiny coupons in the app. It was just as well. I needed the distraction to keep from hoping.

Hope was the most painful poison.

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