Ready or Not (Ready #4)(72)

The alarm buzzed on my watch, notifying me of the time. It always beeped at this exact moment so I wouldn’t forget when the bus dropped off in front of our house. Noah always got off the bus at exactly a quarter past three every day, and he was expected to call me within five minutes without fail. This was our agreement, and so far, he’d adhered to it perfectly. I was amazed by his maturity and ability to handle himself. When I had been still working and would come home at night, I was surprised to find the house didn’t look like a train wreck. The dishes would be neatly stacked in the sink, and his homework would already have been completed and put away. It was eerie how well behaved he was.

Three minutes had passed, and I was starting to get restless. He knew this was my one condition of his staying home alone, and even though I’d been home for a few weeks, I knew he wouldn’t have forgotten.

Maybe the bus was late?

Another minute passed without a call.

I sent a quick text message to him, basically saying that he should call or he’d be grounded for life.

There was no reply.

I stared at my phone, willing it to ring, when the administrative assistant called for me.

Perfect.

I followed her back to the conference room, and several of the partners greeted me. They were all in their late forties with various shades of the same designer suit.

“Nice to finally meet you, Jackson. We’ve heard great things.” A tall, lanky man in a dark blue suit stood to greet me. “I’m Cal Turner.”

I nodded. “Thanks for taking the time. I appreciate it.”

We all took our seats around the sleek wooden table, and I casually leaned back as the assistant floated around, serving everyone coffee and water.

“Let’s get right to the point, Jackson. We like what we’ve heard, and we’d love to have you on our team,” Mr. Turner said.

I had been fed this line in practically every interview I’d been in. At first, I had been shocked and a bit flattered. Then, I’d heard the whispers and rumors that the relationship between my former employer and Senator Prescott was rocky at best since my departure, and he was possibly looking for new representation. Everything after that had started to make sense, and now, I was just extremely annoyed.

“Where have you heard this exactly?” I casually took a sip of my coffee.

The guy who seemed to be in charge, an overweight man who reminded me of a younger version of my father, spoke up, “Around.”

“Around where?” I pressed.

“Look”—he sighed—“you’re young and come with an excellent letter of recommendation. What more could we ask for?”

Right, because finding a job in a place like this was so damn easy.

I looked at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes had passed, and Noah hadn’t called.

I needed to wrap this up.

“You saw me in the paper?” I asked flatly.

“Perhaps, but that has little to do with our job offer,” he answered quickly.

I was not convinced. “While I’m flattered, I’m going to have to decline. I’ve already left one job because of how it interfered with my personal life. I will not be hired because of it either.”

“Jackson, please reconsider. Just take a look at our offer and sit on it. We’ll chat in a day or two.”

I was already rising from my chair. “I don’t think we have anything further to discuss. For the record, my relationship with Olivia Prescott does not give me access to the Senator, nor would I want it. In fact, if you want someone to suck up to the old man, I’d say I’m the last person you want on your team.”

I didn’t even give them the chance to respond. I had hoped this interview would be different—that perhaps I might be judged on my own personal merit, rather than what my personal life might be able to offer them. Apparently, like all the others before them, Turner and McCollum were just like everyone else.

Letting the doors swing behind me, I moved swiftly toward the elevator. I called Noah’s cell phone while I loosened the tie around my neck.

It rang and rang until his voice mail picked up, making my stomach churn in apprehension.

I called him once more, and again, he didn’t answer.

God only knew how long it would take me to get through traffic and make it back home. Entering another number into my phone, I waited until someone answered.

“Hey, it’s Jackson—is she busy?” I asked Liv’s receptionist.

“No,” she answered. “She just finished up with a client. Let me get her.”

I tried not to call Liv’s cell during office hours. She tended to leave the ringer on, and I wouldn’t want to distract her if she were in the middle of a session.

I was unlocking my car by the time Liv picked up.

“Hey,” she said, her voice coming through loud and clear.

“Hey,” I answered. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure, what’s up? You sound worried. Did your interview go bad?”

“Yes, but that’s not why I’m calling.”

“Oh God, did they offer you another job? Shame on them. How dare these people keep throwing all this money at you,” she mocked.

“Liv,” I stressed, my voice alerting her that something was wrong, “Noah’s not answering his phone.”