Straight Up Love (The Boys of Jackson Harbor #2)(12)

“Let’s sit over there,” Ellie says, pointing to a booth on the other side of the café.

I head in that direction but stop when I see Myla Quincy, one of the other English teachers from my school.

“Go on,” I tell Ellie. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Myla’s sitting in front of a stack of papers, a large, steaming cup of black coffee at her side. “Beautiful day for grading, huh?” I say, because grading is the plight of every English teacher’s life.

She looks up from the paper and blinks at me. Myla is the coach of our cheer team and is usually a walking cheerleader stereotype—peppy and full of energy. Today, she looks exhausted. “Gotta enjoy it while it lasts, am I right?”

I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shakes her head. “I’m just nervous ever since I heard about the layoffs this morning. I have this ache in my gut that won’t go away.”

“What layoffs?”

She bites her bottom lip and studies me. “Didn’t you hear? The Windsor Prep board voted on a new budget. They’re going to get rid of the middle school program and lay off a quarter of the faculty.”

Suddenly, I have no appetite for cupcakes and coffee. In fact, my stomach was in better shape with a fresh hangover than it is trying to digest this news. “Are you sure?”

“I guess the actual number is more rumor than official at this point, but the layoffs are coming.” She rubs her eyes, and I realize she doesn’t look tired. She looks like she’s been crying. “I’m a wreck. I just bought a house.”

I don’t blame her for being worried. She’s the newest teacher in the English department and teaches primarily the middle school students, meaning she’ll probably be the first to go. “I’m sorry, Myla.” I reach out and squeeze her wrist. “I know it’s hard, but try not to worry until we know more, okay?”

Her eyes fill with tears, and she nods. “I know. Don’t borrow trouble, right?”

“Right. We don’t know what’s going to happen yet.” I try to smile, but I’m not feeling it, and I’m afraid my worry is obvious on my face.

“Thanks, Ava.” She takes a deep breath. “I’d better get back to this grading.”

“We’ll talk more on Monday,” I promise as I head to the booth to meet Ellie.

“What was that about?” Ellie asks as I slide in.

“Windsor Prep is going to do a big round of layoffs.” I rub my temples. “The middle school program never grew like they thought it would, and apparently the board voted to get rid of it.”

“Well, shit,” Ellie says. “And the cheerleader chick has her head on the chopping block?”

I draw in a ragged breath. “I don’t know. Maybe. I hope not.” Honestly, the only colleague I’d like to see go is my asshole principal.

“What about you? You teach in the high school part, so you’re okay, right?”

“Maybe. I don’t know how they’ll handle it.”

“I’m so sorry, Ava.”

I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. We don’t know anything yet.” But until the layoffs are done, I know my plans are postponed. Having a child on my own will be tough, but embarking on this mission without a steady job would be nothing short of careless. A weight settles onto me, crushing the joy I’ve been carrying since I decided to launch Operation Pregnancy.





Jake


By the time Saturday night rolls around, I’m kicking myself for agreeing to talk to Ava about her baby plans. There are a lot of conversations I’d prefer to never have. A conversation with Ava about having someone else’s baby tops the list—tied with a conversation with my mom about her sex life. In other words, if I didn’t think this was really fucking important, there’s no way I’d indulge in such emotional masochism.

I leave my apartment and take the stairs down to Jackson Brews. Ava’s scheduled to close tonight. Maybe this isn’t the best place to have such a delicate conversation, but I’m ready to rip off the Band-Aid. At least here we can talk over a beer instead of in the awkward silence of her house.

“Jake!” Ava spots me as I push out of the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

I shrug. “I live here.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. You’re not on the schedule for tonight.”

“Nothing else to do.” That’s not true. I scheduled myself off because I had a date with a peppy pharmaceutical rep who calls me up when she’s passing through town. I canceled after Ava left my apartment this morning. Call me crazy, but after discussing the possibility of making a baby with Ava, I wasn’t up to a date with another woman.

I wander behind the bar to scope the scene. There’s a decent crowd tonight for off-season, with most of the barstools and half the tables occupied, but behind the bar there’s no sign it’s been busy. Ava keeps everything clean when she’s back here. I never have to get on her about scrubbing the coolers or flushing the keg lines. She takes pride in her work, as if Jackson Brews was her own.

Ava’s worked at Jackson Brews on weekends and the occasional evening since her husband left her two years ago. She started for the extra money, but I like to think she stays on because she likes her nights behind the bar with me. God knows the nights we work together are my favorite.