Page 8 of My Neighbor's Secret
Tessa waves at the air. “No worries, babe. I’ve got the perfect thing for you—a sleek, white jumpsuit romper thing that’s superflattering. I’ll hem the bottoms for you tonight, and you’ll look like a million bucks tomorrow.”
I snort. “You’d better take in the chest area, too, or else I’m going to need to stuff my bra.” Besides being quite a bit taller than me, Tessa’s also got the world’s most jaw-dropping hourglass figure, when she’s not cooking a baby. Despite those differences in our body types, however, I think Tessa’s outfit could easily be altered to fit me, well enough.
“Okay, hot tip number two,” Ryan continues. “Bring Jerry his favorite specialty coffee tomorrow, and make sure it’s still piping hot when you set it down in front of him—on a coaster, for fuck’s sake.On a coaster.” He says he finagled Jerry’s usual coffee order from a buddy’s assistant at the brokerage firm, on the down low. Also, that there’s a coffee place only a block away from Jerry’s office, so I’ll be able to park, get the coffee, and then walk to my appointment, coffee in hand.
“Will do,” I say. “Anything else?”
“Hot tip number three,” Ryan says. “Arrive at Jerry’s door, with the piping hot coffee, exactly five minutes early for your interview. If you’re on time with Jerry, then you’re late.”
“I’ll be there at 7:50, to be safe.”
“Nope. 7:55 on the nose, or else his coffee won’t be piping hot when he calls you into his office at 7:56.”
I chuckle. “I’ll get to the coffee place a full half-hour early and sit around till it’s the precise time to order and walk up the street.”
“Now you’re getting it. Perfect. Now, when you sit down for the interview . . .” Ryan details several more things he wants me to do. So, I pull out my phone and take meticulous notes. Finally, Ryan wraps up his tutorial with, “If you do everything I’ve told you, you’ll walk away with a job tomorrow.”
“Fingers crossed.” I don’t want to tell Ryan and Tessa this, but I’m down to my last hundred-fifty bucks in my bank account.I’ve still got some room on my credit cards, in case of a dire emergency, but I’m already in so much debt, I’d rather not take on more.
“Thank you so much, Ryan. I can’t thank you enough.”
“No thanks necessary,” Ryan replies. “You’re family, Charlotte.”
A lump rises in my throat. On top of everything else, I’ve been missing my father terribly. It’s been two years since he passed, but it never gets easier. Ryan and Tessa can’t take Dad’s place, of course. Nobody can. But Ryan’s and Tessa’s kindness makes me feel supported and loved in a way I really need right now.
“Thank you. That means a lot,” I choke out.
Ryan’s features soften. “You’re not alone, okay? You’re never alone.”
Well, shit. I’m crying now. I’ve needed to feel exactly this kind of support lately, after the mess I’ve made of my life. I inhale deeply, trying to control my emotions, and feel a wave of genuine optimism rise up inside me. “Thank you so much. To both of you. Thanks to you, I can already tell, without a doubt, tomorrow is going to be my lucky day.”
4
CHARLOTTE
Ilook at the clock on my car’s dashboard and shudder.
Thanks to a massive accident on the freeway this morning, I’m now officially running late for my interview, even though I left Tessa’s house ridiculously early this morning—early enough, I thought, to get to the coffee place and chill for at least a half-hour before grabbing the weirdo’s coffee order with perfect timing to arrive at his office at precisely 7:55. But now, thanks to this traffic, I might not have time to grab the guy a coffee at all. I suppose it will depend on the parking situation when I get there.
Okay, I’m finally on surface streets now, and traffic isn’t as bad over here. I glance at the clock on my dashboard again and groan. I’m cutting it close. Please, parking gods, be good to me when I get to my destination.
I see the guy’s building! And there’s the coffee place down the street, exactly like Ryan said. Now, where’s that parking garage that should be right across the street?
No.
A sign at its entrance says it’s completely full and only monthly parkers are allowed in with a pass. Fuck! Practically hyperventilating with stress, I drive past the structure and anxiously scour the packed curb, searching for an open spot. Ipass an animal hospital, a bank, a nail salon, all the while getting farther and farther away from my destination.
It’s okay, Charlotte. Calm down. You’ve still got a solid six minutes until all hope is lost of arriving at the interview with the guy’s coffee order in hand.You can do this.
I drive slowly around the block, keeping an eagle eye out for street parking . . . and suddenly, I’m right back where I started and no closer to parking my car.
I check the clock. Say a prayer. And slow down to an even slower crawl. God help me, if someone pulls away from the curb rightbehindme, rather than in front of me, and someone else quickly grabs the newly vacated spot, I’ll never forgive myself.
There’s a line of cars in the near distance. They’re stopped about fifty feet ahead of me at a red light. If a spot doesn’t magically appear between here and the last car in that line, I’ll get stuck at the back for who-knows-how-long until the light changes.
I slow down even more, hoping and praying for a miracle. And, suddenly, I get one. Am I a witch?A magical unicorn? At the very least, I’m The Parking God’s favorite, because a black minivan parked only about twenty feet ahead of me has suddenly pulled away from the curb, leaving a perfect stretch of curb vacant forme. It’s a Christmas miracle in April!
Like a woman possessed, I gun my little car and whip my front bumper into the spot to claim it as mine. When that light up ahead turns green and that line of cars moves through it, I’ll have room to maneuver and parallel-park into the spot. I’m horrible at doing that, so I’ll need a wide berth to make it happen. But for now, I’m relieved to have marked this strip of curb asmine.
