Page 39 of Taking a King

Here we go,I tell myself.

I turn my phone back on once I reach my car. Before I can buckle my seat belt, it rings. Seeing Quinn’s picture on the screen makes me smile. I should have known she’d be impatient to hear about my interview. I connect the call to my car stereo and answer it.

“Hello?”

“So?” Quinn says in lieu of a greeting.

“So, what?” I ask, pulling out of the school parking lot.

“So, how was the interview?”

I sigh. “I’m not sure. I think it went well. But it’s hard to know for sure.”

“What did she say at the end?” Quinn asks.

I try to think back. “She said they have one other candidate to interview but that I would hear something by next week.”

“Hmm,” Quinn says. “How did she sound? How was her tone?”

I sigh. “I don’t know, Quinn. She sounded the same throughout the whole thing. She was nice. She smiled a lot.”

“Hmm,” she says again. “That could be important. Or it could mean nothing.”

“Astute observation,” I say.

“Look,” Quinn says. “All I’m saying is you can read a lot about a person from their tone and the way they carry themselves in a conversation. I learned that in board rooms.”

I sigh. “I’m not as good at reading people as you are. Besides, I haven’t been on a ton of job interviews.”

“I know,” she says. “I wish I could have been there.”

I laugh. “They don’t let you bring a friend to a job interview. This isn’t the movie Stepbrothers.”

Quinn giggles. “I somehow doubt that would have landed you the job.”

“You’re probably right,” I say. “Look, I’m just going to have to be patient and wait until I hear something. Keep your fingers crossed for me.”

“I will,” she says. “Have you talked to Garrett yet?”

My heart skips a beat. “About what?” I ask, trying and failing to sound casual.

Quinn huffs out a sigh. “About the job. About the Marines. About anything?”

“It hasn’t come up,” I hedge.

“That’s because you haven’t brought it up,” she says. “Coward.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“No, wait!” Quinn yells.

“What?” I say, letting my annoyance creep into my voice.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “That was shitty of me.”

My grip on the steering wheel tightens. “No. It wasn’t. You’re right. I’ve been putting off that conversation because I don’t want to hear him say he’s leaving.” My voice cracks on the last part and I’m surprised to realize how close to tears I am.

“Claire, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Quinn says. “You’re having fun and enjoying the moment. That’s a good thing.”

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