Page 4 of Christian Clause

Swirling back her glorious blonde hair across her shoulders and sporting a small frown on her oval face, she said, “Well, if my new roomie doesn’t mind your sleeping on the couch and sharing the apartment with us, no problem.”

I could not believe my ears as she walked away to her room. We have been roommates for years. When she had some difficulty with her finances some time back, I assisted her with the bills before she paid me back. But now that the shoe is on the other foot, she refuses to help me.

“So much for friendship,” I mutter and push open the door of the café.

The cozy-looking place with its exquisite antique interior brings a smile to my face. I love the round tables with a burgundy table cloth. The décor was done in shades of blue and gold, which is a contrast to the white floor and black chairs. My interest is in the antique vases and art work on the wall. I have never been to this side of Downtown Atlanta before.

I choose a seat by the window and settle down on the comfortable chair. Almost immediately, a waitress, in a black and brown uniform, walks up to me with a smile on her face.

“Welcome.” She brings out her a white notepad. “What can I get you?”

I don’t really have much money on me, but seeing as I didn’t eat breakfast and I want to use their Wi-Fi, I know I have to order something.

“Coffee and a slice of cake, please.”

“Coming right up,” she says and is about to turn away when I ask, “Do you have Wi-Fi?”

She nods and says, “I’ll get you the password.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

I look out the window at the passersby and I wonder if I could work as a waitress. No shame there, as I’m desperate. I don’t think the pay would be much, but if I can give Alice at least half of the rent at the end of the month, I’m sure she’ll get off my case a little.

When the waitress with the lovely smile returns with my cup of coffee and a slice of cake, and a small note with the Wi-Fi password, I smile brightly.

“Thank you.”

I take a bite of the red velvet cake and feel as if I’m in heaven. It’s a rare treat for me because I try to eat healthily and stay away from things that will add to the weight. Not that I’m fat or anything, I just don’t want to be more voluptuous than I already am. I like being curvy. At five feet three inches tall, I’d like to believe that I carry my weight pretty well.

But that didn’t stop Terrance from leaving you.

My heart falls at the mocking voice.

“It doesn’t matter,” I tell myself. “One day, I’ll meet a fantastic man who will truly love me and never leave me.”

I retrieve my mini laptop from my bag. I had to pawn my best laptop when things became tight. I was able to get this small one for my online applications, though.

I log into my mailbox and my heart flips when I see an email from one of the firms I applied to.

Dear Miss Grady, we’re sorry that…

I don’t bother reading the rest of it. It’s no use. I have received so many of such messages I wonder why I’m disappointed.

“Looks as if no one is hiring in the entire country,” I murmur with heartfelt disappointment.

I applied for jobs in other states, not just Georgia, but they all appear fruitless. I love Georgia with all my heart, but if it doesn’t have a job for me, I have to leave it.

After going through my emails and spam messages, yet not seeing anything promising, I let out a frustrated sigh. Snapping my laptop shut, I place my head in my hands and will my tears not to fall. The last time I was this teary-eyed was when Terrance left me. I’m thinking now that this is worse than him leaving me. I can’t remember the last time I felt despair so great that it’s as if nothing will ever be all right again.

I lift my head and look around the café, wondering if there’s anyone there I can meet for a job. I’m past caring about how I look. Anxiety is gnawing at my heart.

There aren’t many diners in the place, save an old couple and a man with his wife. My eyes move to the waitresses. I really don’t mind being a waitress at this point.

Even though I lost my appetite, I still force the cake and coffee down my throat. I’m going to pay for it after all. Rising with my purse and laptop, I walk swiftly to the counter and pay for the meal.

“Erm… I…” I tug at my earlobe. “Do you by any chance need a waitress?”

Offering me a small smile, the old man who apparently owns the café shakes his head.

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