Three Broken Promises (One Week Girlfriend #3)(38)

A shiver moves through me at the delicious, forbidden memory.

“You so are. That can only mean one thing.”

Stiffening, dread slithers down my spine. I know she’s my best friend and I’ve told her everything that’s happened between Colin and me up until now. But she doesn’t know about this latest chapter in our lives, and I really don’t want to tell her.

She’s never approved one hundred percent of Colin as being the one for me and I don’t want to hear her warnings. She thinks he’s too slick, too much of a charmer to really want anything serious. I’ve always agreed with her. I can’t help but wonder if I’m having a momentary lapse in judgment.

Besides, what happened between Colin and me feels too new, too fragile, to share with anyone but us. I still need to cherish it, process it.

Enjoy it. Alone.

“You found a job, right?” she asks when I don’t say anything.

Relief replaces the dread and I shake my head, trying to hide my smile. I shouldn’t be smiling. I should be incredibly depressed, because how the heck am I going to get out of this stupid place filled with dirty memories that haunt me? I’d forgotten about the shitty interviews from yesterday, my all-night excursion in Colin’s bed wiping out all unpleasant thoughts.

They’re all coming back with a vengeance now.

“I didn’t,” I finally say as I start to wander around the restaurant, lighting all of the candles that sit in the center of the tables. “None of them wanted to hire me.”

“Are you kidding?” She sounds indignant, just like Colin had yesterday. A warm, fuzzy feeling starts in my stomach. Everyone believes in me but me. Maybe I should start paying attention and believe in myself for a change. “Why not?”

I shrug, sticking the long lighter into the glass candleholder and clicking the ignite button. “I’m tired of working as a waitress, so I’m aiming for an office job. Problem is, they want someone with office experience and I don’t have any.”

“But you’re . . . you. You’re awesome. Surely you had a kickass interview and impressed the hell out of them. You’re smart. You look the part. Who wouldn’t want you working for them?” Fable looks completely perplexed and I love her for it.

“I guess I’m not kickass enough, considering they didn’t offer me a job. No one even seemed that interested.” I move from table to table, Fable following behind me, setting the tables with silverware. The two of us are at the tail end of dinner service prep. We’ve been working together so long we’ve established a perfect rhythm.

“So what are you going to do now?” Fable asks after we finish up the last table.

Great question. One I don’t have an answer for. “I guess it’s back to . . . plan A.” Whatever plan A is.

“And that is . . . ?” Her voice trails off as she raises a brow.

The girl can make anyone sweat with one lift of an eyebrow, I’ll give her that. Poor Drew. And poor Owen. Neither of them stood a chance in a fight with Fable. “Um, back to the job hunt. And the apartment hunt. I’m checking out the roommate options on Craigslist.”

“You’re going to room with someone you don’t know? Are you crazy?” Fable shakes her head. “What if they’re a serial killer looking for their next victim and you fit their profile?”

“You worry too much.” I sigh. I can’t stress about that shit and besides, I’ll find someone, a girl who’s close to my age and maybe a college student. I’ve been scanning the listings the last few days and stumbled upon a few good possibilities that I already contacted. I haven’t heard back from them yet, though.

Maybe I’m the one who looks and sounds like a serial killer . . .

Ha ha. I’m funny.

“But Jen . . .”

“Look, Fable.” I round on her, stopping her in her tracks. I’m not angry, but I’m tired of everyone trying to tell me what to do. “I know what I’m doing. It may look risky but I’m not that stupid, trust me. I’m taking all of the proper precautions.”

Fable scrunches her eyebrows together. “I never said you were stupid. I just . . .”

“You’re worried about me. Yeah, I totally get it. I’d be worried about me too. But I’ll land on my feet. I always land on my feet. I’m like a cat.”

“A cat who’s always eventually caught and set on her feet by a certain someone named Colin Wilder,” Fable mutters.

I part my lips, ready to say something sarcastic right back, when I realize he’s nearby. I feel his overwhelming presence. He’s standing behind me—I can smell his intoxicating woodsy clean scent, feel the heat of his body penetrating mine as he steps even closer. I swear his hand brushes against my backside in a discreet caress and a wave of desire crashes through me.

“Someone say my name?” He sounds amused. His deep voice causes tingles to sweep over my skin and I press my lips together, almost afraid to turn and face him.

Afraid I might melt if I see that particular gleam in his eyes. The one that says he knows exactly what I look like naked and he can’t wait to get me in that state again.

“Speak of the devil.” Fable flashes him a saucy smile. “Your little waif here was telling me she didn’t find a job yesterday when you two went to Sacramento.”