Page 75 of The Protégé

“Yes, please. What should I start with for a masculine bracelet?”

“Here’s a version I made for Remi.” Audri gave me a leather bracelet that was about half an inch wide with some gunmetal accents.

We spent the next hour making bracelets, and I was happy to set the SSG mission aside. When it was time for me to go home, I had a beautiful bracelet for Orion. I’d chosen dark leather with a cord running through the middle with some topaz beads and a matte gunmetal clasp. It was masculine, stylish, and sturdy.

I placed it on my nightstand, unsure when I’d give it to him.

What was he doing now?

We’d chatted on the phone for the past few nights as well as texted several times a day. Based on the number of texts I’d gotten from him, it appeared like he had a lot of free time. But I knew he was busy. Perhaps he made time for me? Maybe, maybe not.

We also discussed the investigation, and I gave him my perspective on places I’d visited. It made me feel accomplished that I could offer something useful to him. Somehow this research felt different from other stories I’d researched. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to disappoint Orion. The Condor seemed like an important person in his life, a family memberwho had been murdered. Personal matters often blinded a person from seeing things objectively, and I offered that point of view for him.

After showering, I got into bed and turned on my computer and opened the email from Cathy Lindbergh, the Human Resources Manager of Channel 7 News. Something sharp twisted in my gut.

Dear Elena,

Effective immediately, your position has been eliminated. We discovered drugs in your desk and inside your locker at the office gym. Having drugs on the premises violates company policy.

The letter described how they could bring criminal charges against me, but given my contribution to the news station, they saved me the stress. So they fired me instead. I wouldn’t be able to collect unemployment because I was fired for misconduct.

A massive wave of anxiety pummeled me as my list of unpaid bills and responsibilities grew. How would I repair my house now? When would I emerge from this financial sinkhole that was dragging me deeper into debt? Why was this happening to me? It seemed like no matter how much I tried to overcome obstacles, more were tossed my way. I could only take so much.

Anger and exhaustion spiked as my financial burden formed into a monster. The only well-paying job I had now was working for Orion until my contract ended. My part-time gigs at FoodHub and Let’s Ketchup helped with some expenses, but I needed more income. Would I be working multiple jobs for the rest of my life? The tension in my body snapped, and I saggedinto my bed, surrendering to life. Tears broke free, sliding down my face.

Breathe.

It’s just a phase.

After the tears released the mounting stress from my body, I took a few moments to gather myself. I wasn’t going to surrender to these bullies. I didn’t do drugs. I was framed. But by whom? Chantel? Why? They didn’t even give me a chance to defend myself. The company wanted me out. I had to get to the bottom of this.

I could get a lawyer to fight this accusation. But I didn’t have the money. It was odd how things played out. After the girls’ night out, I had already decided to look for a new job. I had come home tonight preparing to draft my resignation letter. I needed to do something that could provide the capital for me to take Musepaper to the next level.

But I didn’t have to resign now. The letter asked me to call security to set up a time to retrieve my belongings.

No thanks.I didn’t want to bring home anything from that place.

Leaning back into the pillow, I stared up at the ceiling. I was going to chat with Orion, but now I just wanted to be left alone. My health insurance would end soon. I needed this contract job with Orion. If an unexpected bill came up, I could ask him for another advance. He would be okay with that, right?

I should start looking for a new job soon, but I didn’t have the energy or the motivation to.

Expecting meto be a saint when I was being wronged and vilified was just too much.

Be strong. Conserve your energy and fight back.

Don’t surrender.

My inner voice was trying really hard to motivate me. I just had to let the self-doubt phase run its course. Bills flashedthrough my mind followed by horrific images of rain flooding my house, which made me tremble.

I wishedOrion were with me, having dandelion tea and talking about random things. He made me feel safe. Like he was the eye of the storm—the force that kept me protected from the chaos of the world.

What was he doing? I stared at my phone. Should I text him? He was in Europe, so he was probably sleeping.

Thoughts swirled in my head, and I stepped away from them. Unlike someone who was terminally ill or trapped in a war zone, my financial dilemma was something that could be resolved over time. Little by little, I could chip away at it. That was all I could do. Sitting around moping wasn’t going to erase my debt. I needed to recalculate my budget again.

Feeling restless, I got out of bed, dragged an ottoman over to the window, and sat down, shoving the curtains aside. The dark night greeted me as I lookedout at the clear sky. A sense of peace blanketed me like a soft throw. Insecurity was raw tonight, and I did what I’d always done in the past: look elsewhere for motivation. I escaped to a different world that made me feel better, even if it was temporary.

Wasn’t that why I’d chosen to be a writer? To be elsewhere. To deliver news and truth.

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