Page 62 of Guarded from Sabotage

For my firstofficial solo venture back in public, it hasn’t been too bad.

I was a little nervous, if I’m being honest with myself. Not because I actually think there’s a threat—not with Ivan securely in jail and the case against him so strong. It’s more likely a symptom of my PTSD, which I talked to my counselor about the other day.

“I know I shouldn’t feel scared,” I told her, “but when I think about going out in public alone, I get really anxious. It’s frustrating. There’s nothing to be scared of. But my body doesn’t seem to agree.”

“That’s normal,” she assured me. “You experienced trauma—the attack, the car accident—and it’s natural to want to stay where you feel safest. Blade and Arrow represents safety to you, and you’re going to feel anxious leaving it for a while. Just take things slowly. Little trips. And be kind to yourself. If something is too much, it’s okay. Just try again another day.”

Everything she said made sense. But I really want to find a new job, so I can’t exactly chicken out when it comes to an interview. That’s why I thought having lunch with Raya would be helpful. I could get used to being out in public with someone I know before going off to meet a complete stranger.

And as I head across town for my interview at the Teen Advocacy Group, my idea seemed to have worked. I don’t feel like vomiting from nerves, my hands are steady, and I’m mostly confident I can meet with the director of the agency without having a panic attack.

I never used to worry about these sorts of things. But little by little, I’ll get past it.

After all, I managed to get through lunch just fine. I met up with Raya at the Cozy Cuppa, a cute coffee slash tea shop in Seguin run by a British transplant. There were fifty varieties of teas and finger sandwiches and biscuits and everything was served on vintage-style china.

It was nice seeing Raya, and I’ll definitely have to make an effort to see her again. She was sweet and sympathetic and she thought our boss was wrong to put me on leave, stating angrily, “Tanya talks about having a welcoming and supportive environment for our clients. She should have supported you, instead of shutting you out.”

And she was horrified to hear about Ivan, having made the same assumptions about him as I had—that he was quiet and a bit awkward, but harmless. “I guess you never know about anyone, do you?” Raya asked, shaking her head at the rhetorical question. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Sarah. But I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Before we left, we made plans to get together again, next time as a double date with her new boyfriend and Dante. “The speed dating actually worked,” she laughed. “But I guess you didn’t need it.”

No. I didn’t. And while my journey to find love with Dante wasn’t easy, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

While I was leaving the coffee shop, I had one small bump. Or a blast from the past, as it was. I ran into Tanner, which was the last thing I was expecting.

Thankfully, he’s not workingorliving in Seguin, but happened to be there to meet with a local psychiatrist. During our stilted conversation, I found out that he’s still living in San Antonio and working at the same hospital, and he’s still obsessed with that stupid Rush T-shirt.

“I don’t have it,” I told him firmly, and this time I added what I’d been too tactful to say before. In a bland tone, I suggested, “Have you asked any of the women you were cheating on me with? Maybe one of them has it.”

Was it the mature response? Probably not. Did it feel good to say it? Yes.

I didn’t mentionthatinteraction when I texted Dante. That’s something better shared in person. But I have kept to my word, messaging him before and after lunch, once I got into my car, and now just outside the front door of the Teen Advocacy Group building.

Standing off to the side of the door, I pull out my phone and tap out a quick message.

Just got to the interview with some time to spare. Everything’s good. I’ll text you as soon as I finish.

As I wait for his response, I take a good look at the building. It’s small, just one story, a little rundown, but not too bad. There’s a new welcome mat in front of the door and a cheerful wreath hanging from it. A bronze sign just to the right announces,Teen Advocacy Group: Seguin Branch.Two potted plants sit to either side of the entrance, both with colorful blossoms.

It looks like a lot of the non-profits I’ve visited, using small decorations to liven up the space because there’s not enough money for bigger improvements. And that’s okay with me. I’d rather the money go towards serving the clients than a fresh coat of paint on the walls.

Although, if I work here, I bet the B and A guys would volunteer to spruce it up. And Dante would insist on springing for a new security system.

Speaking of Dante, his reply blinks onto my screen.

I’m sure you’re going to be amazing! Can’t wait to hear all about it.

Awww. Even the littlest things make my heart turn to mush.

Checking the time, it’s just five minutes to three, so I silence my phone and slip it into my purse. Then I push the door open, take a steadying breath, and walk inside.

The interior is pretty much what I expected—a few armchairs, slightly worn, some end tables with pamphlets on them, a vaguely seventies-style carpet, and a reception desk with several bowls of candy on it. There’s no one at the desk, so I take a seat in a chair as I wait for the receptionist to come back. I don’t actually mind being the only one here, as it gives me time to compose myself and mentally run through my resume one last time.

I’m not waiting long. A minute or two later, a woman enters the reception area from an attached hallway and smiles at me apologetically. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting out here alone. Our receptionist is out sick today, so I’ve been trying to keep an eye on things out here and get work done in my office.”

“It’s no problem.” Standing, I return her smile. “I just got here. And I completely understand.”

“Good.” She holds her hand out to me. “I’m Julie Morrow. Director of the Teen Advocacy Group, or TAG, as we call it in-house. I’m so glad you could come in.”

---