Page 121 of Butter My Biscuit

“Then, quit,” she says with a shrug.

I look at her like she’s lost her mind. “I can’t just …quit.”

“Why not? I hated my job, and one day, I woke up and wrote an email to my boss. Never looked back. Also, if you really needed some help paying the bills, you know Summer would hire you. Or Haley could get you a position at the bookstore. The newspaper ain’t the be-all, end-all in Valentine, especially if you ain’t happy.”

“It’s not bad, but I just feel like there’s something more out there for me. I just worry about not being able to pay my bills.”

She types a sentence, then stops, and I know she’s probably chatting with someone because I hear a ding each time she looks down. “You will. It always works out.”

“This is the thing with all the Valentines: you just think everything is going to work out, even when the entire world is burning around you.”

This earns me a laugh.

“You have your wedding planning business. You’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t fail.”

“But what if it does?”

She smiles. “In every situation I’m in, I will always bet onme. And you should too. It’s that easy.”

I take a sip of my coffee, still in my pajamas. Then, I take my mug with me, slide on my slippers, and leave my house, wearing pajama pants, a tank top, and my silk house coat.

“Grace?” I hear Remi yell from the living room after I shut the door.

But I’m already walking down the sidewalk with a smile on my face because, right now, I am the main character. The sun is hot and bright on my skin as I dodge tourists. A few of the ladies from my mama’s church see me, and their eyes wander up and down my body. I’m sure everyone will be talking about me strolling downtown in my pajamas. Then, I walk into the office. All the journalists are still at their desks.

When Kinsley sees me, her eyes go wide, and she looks confused. “Grace? Are you feelin’ okay?”

“Feelin’ just fine,” I tell her with a smile, knowing they’re staring as I walk into Mr. Anderson’s office and sit.

I’m aware that I look like a fucking lunatic, but I’m tired of doing what everyone else thinks I should do. This job is one of them.

He looks at what I’m wearing, and before he can say anything, I hold up a finger to stop him.

“Good mornin’. I quit.”

“What?”

“Yep. I appreciate the opportunity, but this isn’t for me.” I hold out my hand, offering him a handshake.

He takes it, and then I walk out, feeling pure freedom.

Kinsley walks around her desk and places her hand on my head. “You don’t feel hot.”

“I’m done people-pleasing,” I admit, and she lifts her hand and gives me a high five.

Then, she bursts into laughter. “Fuck yeah!”

Mr. Anderson comes out of his office, and she gives me a quick hug as I grab the collage of me and Harrison he gave me when I got this job.

The smile that’s on my face might be permanent as I walk back to my place. At the end of the block, the door is open at the hairdresser. I walk past it, then back up and walk inside.

Georgina comes over. Her bright red hair is high up on her head, and she’s smacking gum with bright red lips. The taller the hair, the closer to God, I guess.

“Do you have any openings?” I ask, checking my pocket to make sure I have my phone with me.

She lifts a brow, her eyes trailing over my outfit, and she stares at my bunny slippers. “Is this a breakup haircut?”

“Uh, no.”

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