Page 95 of I Choose You
“I’m so sorry,” I said to Dave and Samantha. “I have to go. I’ll talk to my boss, get someone else assigned. But I’m not going to be able to manage this project. I’m so sorry.”
“Is everything okay?” Samantha asked.
“Yeah.” I nodded, a genuine smile stretching my face. “I’m just quitting my job, uprooting my life, and getting my man. All in a day’s work, right?” My laugh sounded manic, but I didn’t care.
I was going home.
I just had one stop to make first.
* * *
Andrew was in his office, Derrick sitting across from him with his ankle across his thigh. They were both laughing, as if either of them was funny.
Nia stood from her desk as soon as she caught sight of me.
“Claire!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Michigan.” Her eyes bounced between me and Andrew’s office, her head swiveling quickly.
“Oops. Must have lost my way,” I told her, stalking past her to get to Andrew.
I didn’t bother knocking.
Confusion morphed into anger as Andrew processed myarrival.
“Why are you…” he started.
I didn’t bother letting him finish his thought before interrupting him. I didn’t have time to listen to him rant. Well, now that I was about to be unemployed, I suppose I did have the time. I just didn’t want to.
“I quit.” I dropped my bag with my computer at the door.
“You can’t quit.” Anger simmered in Andrew’s eyes, a look of disbelief on his face. “Get yourself back to Detroit, Claire—”
I cut him off, not interested in anything he had to say. “Or what? You’ll fire me?” I said. I trailed my eyes over him, a curl pulling on my lips. Andrew was a small man, inside and out. He used anger, threats, and condescension to force people into doing what he wanted. I had put up with his scare tactics for too long already. I was over it. “Sure, Andrew, if it makes you feel better, you can fire me. I don’t really care because one way or another, I’m not working here anymore. I’m not doing the work of three people to get paid less than half of this man sitting comfortably in your office. I’m not wasting my time being belittled or badgered by a boss who very clearly doesn’t respect me. I have better things to do with my life than put up with the likes of you.”
I turned and marched away from him.
“Get back here, Claire. We are not done with his conversation,” Andrew called from behind me.
“You may not be, but I am.”
That particular task done, I returned to my parents’ place to collect the rest of my things.
Leon didn’t open the door when I arrived, so I let myself in. My mother and Leon were walking downthe stairs, discussing some function that she would be hosting when she saw me.
“Claire. What are you doing back?”
“Hi, Mom, Leon. I just need to pack my bag.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Detroit?”
“No,” I told her, watching her expression carefully. “I quit my job. I’m going back to Calla Bay.”
“You most certainly are not.” My father’s voice sounded behind me. I turned to face him. Hard lines were etched across his brow, his nostrils flaring with contempt. “You are not quitting that job. I have to make excuses for my pitiful example of a daughter every time someone asks. Do you think I can tell them that you’re living in our guest room, single and unmarriedandunemployed? You might as well be a damn teenager and not a thirty-two-year-old adult,” he shouted.
My heart stopped, and my throat went dry. Tears tried to well in my eyes, but I forced them back. I would not cry. I would not show him my weakness.
“She’s miserable, Thomas,” my mother interjected. “She needs to know that it is okay for her to change her course.”
“It is not okay. She has never once lived up to her potential. She should have finished law school, like she was supposed to. Instead, she chose to get a useless degree in history. And now she thinks she can throw that out of the window too? Absolutely not. If she wants to run away to some small town that no one has heard of, where there are no opportunities, no securities, no prospects, she’ll be doing it without my backing.”
