Page 106 of Burning Embers

Avoidance at its finest.

I click on Emery’s name first, just because he happens to be at the top of the screen.

Emery

Are you excited for your interview? You’ll do great. Probably. Unless you suck. So…just don’t suck.

And then I click on Ethan’s text.

Ethan

Good luck! Fingers crossed for you.

A giddy feeling unfurls in my chest as I shoot off responses to both guys. How can two completely different men make me feel so…happy? Buoyant? Airy?

Just as I hit send on the one to Ethan, a new message pops up on the screen.

Unknown

How are you feeling?

I furrow my brows.

Izzy

Who is this?

I wait for a reply, but when I don’t receive one right away, I shut my phone off and put it in my purse.

I chose to dress nice for the occasion in a sleek, black pencil skirt and white blouse. I styled my hair in an elegant chignon that rests at the base of my neck. A few loose curls tumble down to frame my face.

“You ready for this, kid?” Hale asks as I stare at my resume.

There’s very little on it. I never actually had a job before, unless you count babysitting. Being bounced from home tohome, town to town, didn’t give me the luxury. Still, Hale helped me early this morning create one, putting himself as a reference.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I mutter as I push open the car door and step outside.

“I’ll be at the coffee shop right across the street. Text me when you’re done,” he tells me, and I offer him a wobbly smile.

I can do this.

I can totally do this.

I totally can’t do this.

I take a moment to study the theater.

It sits smack-dab between two buildings—a tiny clothing store and a candy shop, to be precise—and has a flat, red roof. The brick walls have begun to fade in color, appearing more umber than brown or red. The glass doors are opaque, not allowing me to see inside.

There’s no parking in front of the building—unless you’re able to find street parking—but there is a lot directly behind it. However, you’ll have to walk around the block to enter the theater.

It’s small and quaint and exactly what I pictured in this redneck town.

Pulling on my metaphorical big-girl panties, I take a deep breath, push back my shoulders, and then enter the theater.

The smell of buttery popcorn immediately assaults my senses, but it’s not entirely unpleasant. Almost immediately, I home in on Jake, who stands behind the concession stand, handing a couple two sodas. When he sees me, a wide grin splits across his face, but he doesn’t speak until the couple enters a theater and disappears from view.

Jake runs around the counter and pulls me into his arms, rocking me from side to side.

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