Page 4 of Nathan

With trembling hands, I pack up my desk. My vision blurs as tears spring to my eyes. What will I do now? I can’t afford to be out of work for a day, let alone permanently. What about Mom? Two weeks to find something else that has equivalent pay is almost impossible, especially as I’ll be asked why I left my last job. Even if I don’t reveal that Bernard fired me, it won’t take long for them to find out. My former boss has a big mouth, bigger than his ass, and that’s saying something. I can’t even use the fact he’s been cheating on his wife as leverage. Bernard will ruin me. He said he would, and I believe him.

It doesn’t take me long to get my stuff together, and with my shoulders squared and head held high, I leave the building. Unfortunately not before I hear the two receptionists gossiping about “Yet another one Bernard has fired.”

I put the small cardboard box containing my things in the trunk of my car and climb inside the ancient Ford. I turn the key in the ignition, and my exhaust makes a horrible rattling sound. Goddammit. The last thing I need is a hefty auto repair bill, too.

As the enormity of my situation washes over me, I slam the palm of my hand into the steering wheel. Fuck Bernard, and fuck Nate O’Reilly. Maybe I should give up and move back to Wisconsin. But that would mean finding another nursing home for Mom, and she’s so settled at Oak Ridge.

As soon as my anger subsides, I put the car into drive and set off for my apartment. The minute I step through the door, my cell rings. I answer with one hand and open a tin of cat food for Milo with the other.

“Hello.”

“When were you going to tell me you’ve been fired?”

My heart plummets to the floor, bounces, then rolls into a corner where it curls up and dies.

Elva, my sister.

I hoped I’d have time to tell her myself when I was ready.

“How did you find out?”

“I stopped by your office to see if you wanted to go out tonight, and there was a smug little blonde who couldn’t have been older than eighteen sitting at your desk.”

I ignore the sharp pain that races across my chest. It hadn’t taken Bernard long to replace me, even temporarily.

Sighing, I say, “When I’d absorbed it enough to get my own head around the disaster that is my life.”

My sister tuts. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re young, smart, pretty enough to work in Hollywood… you’ll be fine.”

I wince at her backhanded compliment. “It might be a little more difficult than that. Once word gets around Bernard fired me, it won’t be easy to get another well-paying job. I’m worried about how on earth I’m going to keep the payments up on Mom’s home.”

“We’ll work it out, sis,” Elva says, her tone softening. “Maybe I can contribute a bit more.”

“No,” I say, my tone resolute. “Any spare money you have should go on the kids. I’ll figure it out.” Somehow.

“Look, let’s go out for a drink tonight. I haven’t been out in ages. Andy isn’t working, so he can look after the children, and you can tell me why Bernard fired you.”

Except I can’t. I make a mental note to come up with a plausible story that doesn’t involve Bernard screwing a wannabe actress over his desk, or Nate O’Reilly’s part in my unemployed status. Although my sister is discreet, I can’t risk Elva letting something slip to Andy, who then, in turn, tells his co-workers over a beer. No, it’s better to make something up. This town thrives on gossip, and this is one indiscretion I can’t allow to spread like a California wildfire.

“Okay,” I say. “Sounds good.”

A few hours later, I meet Elva at a bar on Sunset. I have to bite the side of my cheek to stop the tears from coming as we hug. She picks a booth near the entrance, where a light breeze cools the heat inside the bar. Even though it’s a Tuesday night, the place is still busy, although not nearly as packed as a Friday or Saturday night.

After ordering our drinks, Elva takes my hands in hers. “I know you’re worried, sis, but it will all work out. Things always do.”

“I hope so,” I say, forcing myself to sound positive, even if my insides resemble curdled cottage cheese.

“So…” Elva tilts her head to one side as she asks, “What happened?”

“Oh, it was nothing really,” I say, feigning indifference. “Bernard’s a bastard.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Elva grins. “But that doesn’t give him the right to fire you for nothing. There’s such a thing as workers’ rights.”

I bite my lip in what I hope comes across as bordering on coy. “Okay, it wasn’t nothing, exactly. I was rude to a client who got a bit over-friendly, if you know what I mean. I should have just brushed it off.”

“Why should you?” Elva’s outrage makes her ears turn red. “You’re not a piece of meat that can be mauled just because God blessed you with amazing bone structure, the prettiest gray eyes, and hair the color of fall. This town pisses me off. Its attitude is still unbelievably outdated. You would think things would’ve changed post Weinstein, yet here we are. Fuckers.”

The way Elva talks, anyone would think she’d been at the end of the line when looks were handed out. The truth is my sister is a stunner. Her husband Andy is definitely punching above his weight when it comes to Elva—something I tell him in jest often, and he happens to agree with me.

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