Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
After I got off the phone with Michael, I was about to put it back in my purse, when it vibrated. I assumed it was Michael again, because he’d forgotten to tell me something. Because it’s not like anyone else called me. I picked up the phone and said, “I promise I won’t back out. As long as he’s not a serial killer or look like my brother, we’re all good.”
There was a pause of silence, and I pulled the phone away, thinking maybe it got disconnected. But the number on the screen was most definitely not Michael’s or one I was even familiar with.
Feeling my heart race a little and embarrassment flood me, I put the receiver back to my ear. “Hello?” Maybe I was lucky and whoever was on the other end hadn’t heard me.
Yeah, luck was never really on my side.
“Miss Morris?” I moved to the side, feeling like maybe I should focus on this conversation, because the woman on the other end seemed pretty serious.
“Yes, this is Olive Morris.” I lifted my hand and used my finger to plug my other ear, trying to hear her better against the rush of the crowd.
“It’s Meredith Klein from the HR department at Brookwood Financial Holdings.”
For a moment, I felt my anxiety leave, this surge of hopefulness filling me. “Hi, Meredith.” Although I didn’t really remember who Meredith was, it didn’t matter. She was from HR. Maybe they were giving me my job back.
“Miss Morris, I was instructed by Mr. Brookwood to let you know that he’s offering you a month’s severance as compensation for your time, diligence, and hard work at Brookwood Financial Holdings.”
I blinked a few times, shocked at what I was hearing, but also a little bit annoyed. So instead of him hiring me back, the stuck-up suit was giving me a month’s worth of pay?
“Miss Morris? Are you still there?”
I clenched my teeth and nodded then felt like an idiot for the fact that she couldn’t see me. “Yes, I’m here.” I cleared my throat again and pressed my back up against the brick wall, staying away from the path of people. “A month’s severance pay?” I could hear the surprise and annoyance in my voice. But after that initial frustration left, I was left with the fact that Felix Brookwood was giving me a month’s pay after he humiliated and fired me in front of everyone.
I shouldn’t have been thinking about this as hard as I was, but either hell had frozen over or I was about to see pigs flying.
I listened to Meredith tell me the details about what I’d have to do for the severance package, and once I disconnected the call, I stood there for a moment still shocked as hell.
Huh, Felix Brookwood had just given me a half-assed apology that didn’t even come from him, but he was also paying me for a month, because maybe he realized what a prick he’d been? I mean, it sounded great, but if he really realized the errors of his way, he’d have hired me back.
But maybe things were looking up. I mean, it wasn’t my job back, but it was the next best thing, right?
CHAPTER THREE
Olive
Ihit Send and leaned back in my chair, the piece of furniture creaking, the denim-colored upholstery on it scratchy against my skin, tattered from age. I lifted my hands and rubbed my eyes, exhausted, the clock on the wall ticking off the seconds. It was already past midnight, and for me that was late as hell.
Since coming home, I’d been in front of the computer and sending off as many resumes as I could—well, to the positions I was qualified for and didn’t sound like total shit. But having a month’s severance pay helped ease some of the anxiety I felt.
I looked over at my notepad and the newspaper sitting beside it. I had one more resume to send off, and I guess I’d saved the best for last.
This was the position I really wanted, because it sounded pretty much like what I’d been doing for Mr. Brookwood. But then again, if it sounded this good, no doubt there was going to be a lot of people applying, and it wasn’t like I had a whole lot of experience. Not to mention being fired didn’t really work in my favor.
But I was still going to give it a go, because what did I have to lose? I was already jobless.
I leaned forward, the chair squeaking again, and pulled up a new email. After attaching my resume, typing out a snazzy query, and including my cover letter, I moved the mouse over to the Send button. I let the little arrow hover over it for a second. I was nervous and I didn’t know why. Maybe the possibility of not finding a job and becoming homeless—or worse, moving back in with my parents—made this morbid sense of dread fill me.