Page 12 of Beautiful Devil

“Oh. Okay, honey. Glad to see you're out of bed. Any luck on the job front?”

Ah yes, the job search that I have been unsuccessful in. Apparently, no one wants to hire someone who was involved in a money laundering scandal with some of the city’s most dangerous names.Shocking. It doesn't matter that my name was cleared from any involvement.

Not wanting to tell my mom the truth and have her worry, I lie and say, “It's going well. I actually have a couple leads I need to follow up on, and I'm hopeful that it will take me somewhere.”

“Oh, honey, I'm so happy to hear that. Please let me know what they say and when you have an interview set up. I've been praying that you would find another job soon and it looks like God is answering my prayers!”

Okay, well, now I feel like the worst daughter ever for giving my mother false hope that I not only have some job prospects, but also that God himself is answering her prayers. I need to wrap up this phone call so I don't have to lie to her anymore.

“Yep. Well, I’d better get going, Mom. Hopefully one of them will be able to see me today for an interview.”

Smooth,Gia.

“Okay, honey. Call me later and let me know what they say. I'm praying for you, sweetie. Don’t be a stranger and come visit me soon. Love you.”

“I will, Mom. Love you too and send my love to dad.”

I quickly hang up and set my phone down on my nightstand before running back to the bathroom and jumping into the shower.

* * *

Hours later, I’m sitting at my kitchen table hunched over my laptop rolling my neck to relieve the kink that I now have. Looking up to check the time, I see that it's already four p.m.

Holy shit. I've been sitting here all day?

As I stand to stretch my body, the pounding in my head returns, and I realize that I haven’t eaten anything today.

Not smart, Gia.

I have a hangover from hell and no food in my system, so now I'm nauseous and to top it off. Still no luck on the job front. None. How is this possible? I've spent all day scouring online looking for jobs and nothing. I've applied to all nine of them already.

Not seeing any response in my email or any missed calls from potential employers, I decide to follow them all up with a phone call to ask if they’ve received my application.

Not desperate at all.They probably all have my file flagged with “psycho” on it.

Heading over to the fridge, I open the door to see nothing but some moldy cheese, ketchup, and yet another bottle of wine. I need to go shopping! Although I would love nothing more than to open that tempting bottle and continue to drink my sorrows away, I know I need to stop and get some real sustenance in me.

Groaning, I shut the door and go to fill a glass with water, grab the Tylenol bottle, and take two.

I hang my head and instantly think,How did I get here?

I was top of my class at Boston University. Sure, it wasn’t Harvard, but I’d received a scholarship to BU, and even though I'm an only child, I knew my parents were worried about how they were going to pay for college.

I told them time and again that I could just get a student loan to pay it off after I graduated, but they were very adamant that I not go down that route. Said it would have put too much pressure on me to find a job just so I could start making payments on it – that I would be paying it off for a minimum of ten years.

I’m extremely grateful that I listened to my parents in the end. I definitely don’t need anything else to stress about these days.

Again, how did I get here?

Gallo.

Before I can go down that path again, I grab my keys and purse from the hook by the front door, check to make sure I have my phone, walk out of the small seven-hundred-square-foot crappy apartment that I now call home, and lock the door behind me. It's not as if there’s anything of value inside, but it’s stillmine.

Exiting the front door of my building, I spot my car instantly. It's not that it's a “bad” car, but even in this part of town, it sticks out. It's a 2009 silver Toyota Camry. Nothing fancy. It still has a ding on the driver's side door from the one time Gallo parked too close to the cart returns in the parking lot and opened it right into the metal pole.

I never did get that fixed. He promised he would fix it because I was so mad at him. It was the first new car I boughtmyselfafter landing the job with The Fielding’s Group and I cherished it.

Enraged all over again, I don't even realize that my fists are clenched or that I'm standing in front of my driver's door until I hear kids yelling in the distance, making me jump and ripping me out of the trance that I was in.

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