Page 32 of Luck of the Draw

“Seven years,” I said. “I got a receptionist job there right out of high school, and when I left, I was the office manager.”

She looked me up and down. “Which means you must have been in your mid-twenties. To move up that quickly in responsibility is impressive.”

Her praise caught me off guard. “Thank you.”

“I gather you learn quickly.”

I nodded. “I do.”

“Then you should move pretty quickly in our ranks too,” she said, her face beaming. “I’d like to start you in the receptionist position, but once you’re oriented we’ll start teaching you insurance coding. Are you up for that?”

It took me at least three seconds to comprehend what she was saying. “You mean I got the job?”

Her smile spread. “You got the job. I’ve seen enough to know you’re a perfect fit. How soon can you start?”

I tried to contain my excitement. It wouldn’t look very professional to hop out of my seat and jump up and down, shouting with joy. “I can start next week. My job doesn’t require any notice.”

She gave me a sympathetic look. “Your job as a telemarketer?”

The shame that usually accompanied that admission made my cheeks burn, but then my pride rose up. I’d taken that job because it was the only one I could find on very short notice. “It put food on the table for my kids.”

She started to say something, then stopped and leaned closer. “There’s no shame in doing what’s best for your family, Deeandra,” she said softly. “Whether that’s staying home with them or taking a job that provides for them. I have nothing but respect for that.”

I stared at her as though she’d just crowned me queen of Asheville.

“At our office,” she continued, “family is important. And we consider our employees family too. You do a good job and respect your coworkers and our patients, and we’ll treat you well in return. Would you like to hear about the benefits package?”

I nodded dumbly. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real.

But it was. The pay was better than what I was making now, and while it still wasn’t great, if I excelled at coding, I could move into the position currently held by a woman who would be leaving Asheville in four months, and that job paid significantly more. After ninety days, I’d receive health insurance and even dental insurance, which would help pay for the braces Liam needed.

Beverly led me out of her office and introduced me to my new coworkers, from the other receptionist to the coders, the nurses, and even two of the five doctors. Everyone was warm and friendly, and I wanted to pinch myself, because this job was a dream come true.

When I left, I parked in the lot of a nearby coffee shop and called Sam. She’d barely answered when I said, “I got the job.”

“What?” she squealed. “That’s amazing! We need to celebrate! Bring the kids over, and we’ll all have dinner at my house. Come by at six thirty. My kids will both be home tonight, and they’ll be just as excited to celebrate with you.”

Her kids were teenagers, but they were close to their mother and to me. Theywouldbe excited.

Still, I almost tried to dissuade her, to tell her that I didn’t want to put her to so much trouble. But that was the old me talking. The old me that had always struggled with people putting me first. I was tired of putting myself second, or third, or at the end of the line. I was tired of making sure everyone else was happy at the cost of my own happiness. Maybe it was my new job that had spurred this feeling, but I knew better.

It was my fourteen hours with Dylan.

But I never would have met Dylan in the first place if not for the Bad Luck Club, and not just because of Bear’sdo something that breaks the ruleschallenge. For months, he’d been trying to convince me that wanting something for myself wasn’t selfish. That it was actually healthy for a parent to have a life outside of their children. Of course, he both lived and worked with his son, Cal, so he wasn’t exactly taking his own advice, but I knew what he meant. I just hadn’t imagined wanting anything more, or reaching for it, before Dylan slid that shoe onto my foot. Bear had asked about my challenge yesterday at the meeting, of course, and I’d told him I’d completed it without offering many details. I could see the disappointment in his eyes. Not because he felt like he needed to know everything, but because he could tell I was upset. But I’d swallowed down all of that emotion, telling myself I had to focus on my interview.

“Yeah,” I said with forced enthusiasm, feeling a wave of melancholy at the thought of Dylan and the way we’d parted. Or more like how I’d fled. Looking back on it, I was ashamed, but there was nothing to be done about it now. He’d found out where I lived, and instead of knocking on my door, he’d left my shoes on my front porch. Or rather, Melinda’s shoes. They’d smelled a little like his cologne, light and not overpowering, but spicy and musky, and it had made everything inside me clench with wanting even as I realized what it meant. “We’d love that.”

“Why does it sound like you just accepted an invitation to a slug festival?”

“It’s not you, Sam. And thank you for the dinner. The boys and I will be excited for an evening of fun. It’s just that I was thinking about Dylan.”

“Have you come to your senses yet?” she asked.

“What?”

“Have you realized that you jumped the gun when you left? That you should have at least let him fall into a wedding cake before you cut him loose?”

I struggled to think of Dylan falling into a wedding cake, but for some reason the thought made me smile. He’d probably grin and then lick the frosting off his upper lip. Randy would have jumped up shouting, threatening to sue, even if he was the one who’d made the mistake.

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