Page 50 of Beneath the Stars (Sugarlake 1)

It’s easier being back in Sugarlake than I expected. Not gonna lie, part of me thought I’d be greeted with pitchforks and an angry mob. Fucking ridiculous. Nobody even knows I’m here. THEY probably aren’t even here anymore.

I was nervous as shit when I stepped into Sugarlake Construction for the first time in eight years. I kept looking around for Goldi’s dad, Mr. Carson, but I didn’t see him. I’m surprised he would have retired but I can’t bring myself to ask Sam about him. They used to be close and he hasn’t brought him up, so neither do I.

Marissa called, already wanting to come down, but I made an excuse. It’d be nice to get some relief by sinking into her pussy for a while, but I’m not ready to bring her here. Not sure I ever will be. I’ll process that clusterfuck later.

The past week has been filled with getting acclimated and I can’t lie - I’m fucking impressed as hell with what Sam’s done. I see the passion and pride in everything he shows me. I hope I don’t let him down.

I start at the new job site on Monday. It’s in the preliminary stages right now, just designs and shit like that. I’m meeting the person who will be my main point of contact and I hope they aren’t a nuisance.

As long as they stay out of my way and let me do my job, things will be just fine.

23

Alina

Twenty-Six Years Old

“That’s basically it.”

I nod my head along with Regina, the owner of Tiny Dancers studio—and officially my new boss as of ten minutes ago. I’m not teaching dance, as much as I wish it were the case, but being the office manager is a foot in the door. The pay is great. I’ll be able to quit my job at the diner, and Tiny Dancers is one of the best children’s dance studios in all of East Tennessee. I’ll fetch coffee and Xerox copies ‘til my fingers bleed as long as I get to be part of something. Feel like I’m on the way to something bigger.

“… so enjoy your weekend, and be here bright and early on Monday morning, ready to go.”

Shoot. I zoned out and missed half of what she said.

“Great!” I smile wide, hoping she doesn’t realize I ignored her.

“Oh, before I forget. You’ll be the ‘go-to’ for the incoming contractor. I’ve outsourced the renovation to a company that’s about twenty minutes away from town. They’re aware that I’d like us to be very involved in the process.”

“You want me to be the ‘go-to?’” I look around the massive studio. “Don’t you think it should be somebody, you know, who’s worked here for more than a day?”

She laughs. “Oh honey, you’ll do just fine. I would do it myself if I had the time, but I don’t. That’s why I hired you in the first place. You’ll be busy in the office straightening up my lack of organization from the past ten years. All I need you to do is be a glorified babysitter.” She waves her hand around the space. “You know how construction workers are. Milking the clock and trying to make an extra dollar from their clients wherever they can.”

I grit my teeth to stop the sass that’s dying to escape. Lord, give me strength. I’m offended on behalf of construction workers everywhere.

“So, you want me to hang out while they’re workin’? Won’t I be in their way?”

She gives me a pointed look. “Just keep an eye on them, keep them in line. Be professional and make sure they stay that way, too.”

I nod. “Got it. Professional.”

We wrap up our conversation and I walk outside to breathe in the fresh Tennessee air. It’s a beautiful day, and I finally feel like things are starting to look up. Sure, my boss is a bit of a megalomaniac, and a teensy-bit overbearing—but I already missed out on one opportunity to further my dreams, so I’m holding on to this one with everything in me.

About a year ago, I came across a quote by one of my favorite authors, C.S. Lewis, and it changed my life.

“You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.”

Those words dug deep inside of me and pulled up the little bit of self-worth I had left. I was tired of waiting on a miracle, and I wasn’t taking any steps to change my own future. So, I mustered up the courage to move out of Daddy’s and into a place of my own. It’s been hard. I feel like I’ve abandoned him. Every day’s a struggle, I won’t lie. But he was sucking me down, and I realized that in order to help him, I had to help myself first.

So here I am in my little four-hundred square foot studio apartment, right above the bakery on Main Street. It’s not much, but it’s mine and I love it. I’m far away enough from Daddy where I get some peace, and close enough to be there when he needs me. Now all I have to do is get him to admit he needs help. I still get the middle of the night phone calls—Johnny from The Watering Hole now has my personal cell number. I’m half-convinced they keep it on speed dial. Whenever Daddy drinks too much to drive, they call me.

There’s never a time where Daddy doesn’t drink too much.

I’m just getting cozy on my couch with a good book when my phone chimes with a text.

Jax: Hey sweetheart. On a scale of 1-10, how much are you missing me?

I roll my eyes, grinning.

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