Page 51 of It's Complicated

Add in a tie, which I hadn’t realized could look so hot until him, and I was a big fan of seeing him in his work clothes.

“Want to talk about it?” I asked, tearing my eyes from his forearms and how incredible they looked when his sleeves were rolled up.

He yanked his tie off and tossed it onto the coffee table. “Not much to say. They told us they’re going to be laying a bunch of us off.”

“What?” I sat up straighter. “When?”

He worked the top two buttons of his shirt free, letting the material hang open. “They didn’t say. Just kind of dropped the layoffs on us at the end of the meeting and said they’d have more info for us soon.”

“That’s insane. What kind of sociopath tells a room full of people they may or may not lose their jobs in the near future and leaves it at that?”

“Managers who want to scare their employees into submission,” he said tiredly. “They spent the whole meeting telling us how shitty we are and listing all the things they want us to change but didn’t give us any sort of guidelines or suggestions on how we’re supposed to fix these so-called problems. Most have nothing to do with us and are things we can’t change. Then they ended the meeting by telling us they need to restructure things to make the bank more efficient, and that meant some of us would be laid off after they finish their internal review.”

“And they didn’t give you a timeline or tell you anything about the review?”

“Nothing. Delilah said this happened at her last job too. Management was bleeding money, but instead of fixing things at the top, they just cut a bunch of people on the bottom to make itlook like they were solving the problem. Her entire department was axed.”

“I’m sorry, Jamie.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“What am I going to do if they fire me?” he asked helplessly. “I know I’m only a teller, but it took me forever to get this job. I’m a jock with a communications degree. It’s not like I have a ton of options out there. How am I supposed to pay my bills? What if I can’t pay my rent?—"

“Jamie,” I cut in, trying to stop his panic before he got too deep into it. “Look at me.”

He did, his gaze as defeated as the stoop of his shoulders.

“This really sucks. I’m not going to pretend like it’s not a big deal or that it doesn’t suck ass.”

He cracked a small smile.

“It does, and I wish terrible things on your boss and anyone else who’s part of this decision-making process. But you don’t need to worry about your bills or your rent.”

He made a face. “I can’t just let you pay for me. Not again.”

This wouldn’t be the first time Jamie was laid off. About a year into our friendship, he’d been let go from his warehouse job and spent almost ten months trying to find steady work. His savings hadn’t lasted long, and I’d covered his half of the bills until he’d gotten his current job and was back on his feet.

One of the big differences between Jamie and me was that I came from money. My parents weren’t billionaires or anything, but they both lived extremely comfortable lives. I’d grown up with all the perks of being wealthy, including having a trust fund.

It wasn’t huge, and it wouldn’t last forever, but I had a roommate because I didn’t like being alone, not because I needed someone to split the bills with me. I could easily cover all of our expenses, but Jamie was too proud to let me and insisted on paying his own way.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because I’m supposed to be an adult. I did everything I was supposed to, but I’m no better off than if I hadn’t.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I worked my ass off to get a hockey scholarship so I could go to college. I got my degree, and I’ve got nothing to show for any of it. I work a job I don’t like because it’s the only job I could get, and now I might get fired because my managers suck at their jobs. I’m twenty-five, Z. I’m tired of always playing catch up.”

I lifted my arm. “Come here.”

Jamie sort of fell against me, shifting down on the couch until he could tuck his face under my chin. I wrapped my arm around him and held him close, trying to offer him some sort of comfort.

“It’s just so frustrating,” he continued, throwing one leg over mine so he could scoot even closer.

I rested my free hand on his thigh and absently rubbed my thumb over the soft material of his pants.

“Emma was married and pregnant with Cody at my age, and Laura was girl-bossing it and climbing the corporate ladder. Then there’s me, the little brother who parties like he’s still in college and tells everyone he works in finance because it sounds better than saying I’m a bank teller.”

“I know you’re stressed and freaking out,” I said, cutting into his rant. “But you can’t compare yourself to your sisters. The world was a different place when they were your age. They had different circumstances and different opportunities. And they wanted different things.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He sighed and nuzzled my throat, his stubble rasping against my skin enticingly. “It’s just hard to remember that when they’re so successful and I’m always the fuckup of the family.”

“You’re not a fuckup.” I hugged him tighter. “Not even close. Do I need to list all the reasons you’re amazing? And all thethings you’ve accomplished that you never give yourself enough credit for?”

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