California Girls(27)

Paul Battle was a grizzled old guy with curly hair and a perpetual frown. He was gruff, demanding and more than a little intimidating. Ali had been terrified of him for nearly a year until she’d suffered through a stint working at the customer service counter. The company did most of their business through internet orders but there were a handful of local customers who came in personally.

Ali had been on her second day of filling in for a guy on vacation and she’d been having trouble figuring out how to process a return. The customer had started screaming at her, calling her stupid and yelling for a manager.

Paul had intervened, glowering at them both. Before Ali could explain the situation, the customer had lit into them both, calling her names and demanding she be fired. Paul had looked at her, then at the customer before telling the guy that this was his fault. He was the moron who had ordered the wrong part to begin with. And if he didn’t like being called names, he should stop doing it to other people. Ali was good at her job and filling in with little notice and minimal training. He’d said for the other guy to act like a human being or shop elsewhere.

Ali still remembered how stunned she’d been by Paul’s complete defense. When she’d tried to thank him later, he’d brushed off her comment, muttering she did a good job and he wanted to see her advance in the company.

Now, as she approached his office, she tried to figure out what to say and how to say it. When she knocked on his half-open door, she was still clueless, so she walked in when invited and handed him the postcard.

“I wanted you to know,” she said as he began to read.

Paul scanned the postcard, turned it over, then looked at her. “He ended things?” he asked.

The question was unexpected, but she nodded. “I don’t know why. He won’t talk to me.”

“Let it go. He’s not worth it. He was never going to make you happy.”

“Why would you say that?”

Paul shrugged. “Just something about him. You okay?”

“I’m dealing.” She stared at him. “You’re not surprised, are you?”

“No, but I’m sorry. You should still take off the vacation week you had planned. You know, to get over him.”

She had the time coming so why not? Wedding or not, she would be moving and could use the week to get settled.

“I will.” She pointed to the card. “I’m going to slip one of those into all the lockers before I leave. I’ll deal with the questions tomorrow.”

“Good idea. I really am sorry, Ali. Glen’s an idiot. You’ll find the right guy someday.”

She smiled and left his office. When she was back at her desk, she tried not to read too much into his use of the word someday. As if the prospect of her finding anyone was possible but unlikely.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. She got a text from her father saying he’d heard what had happened and was sorry. A text, she thought grimly. God forbid he should pick up the phone and call. She felt herself battling crabby and hurt in equal measures and knew it was just a matter of time until she snapped.

On the drive home she mentally went through the to-do list she had to plow through that evening. Daniel had told her he would be by to discuss how canceling the photographer had gone. Honestly, if he’d done a halfway decent job and was willing, she was going to give him more to do. Her workload had just increased, what with her having to find somewhere to live.

She pulled into her parking space. Before she could collect her bag and the box of postcards, Daniel was opening her car door.

“How’s it going?” he asked, his voice both caring and upbeat.

At the sight of him, she relaxed. Whatever crap was going on, she knew she could count on him to help. He wasn’t going to say anything stupid or hurt her feelings or tell her to get back together with Glen.

Unfortunately relaxing her body led to relaxing the tight control she’d been keeping on her emotions. Before she knew what was happening, she was out of her car, throwing herself into his arms and bursting into tears.

“Everything’s a mess,” she sobbed, clinging to him. “I can’t believe it. My boss wasn’t even surprised, my dad texted me to say he was sorry instead of calling, my mother wants me to use the free time I supposedly have to help her go through her house, I’ve lost my apartment and Glen sent me a check for five hundred dollars! Like that will do anything. I keep thinking I’ve hit bottom, but I haven’t. It’s only getting worse.”

Daniel held on to her, rubbing her back as she gave in to those ugly choking sobs that always ended in hiccups. By the time she stepped back, she was pretty sure she looked just as bad as she felt—all blotchy and puffy and damp.

She sniffed and wiped her face with her hands, then reached for her handbag and the Vistaprint box.

“I’m not usually so emotional,” she said, knowing she sounded defensive and embarrassed. “I want you to know I generally keep myself together.”

“Ali, don’t waste time explaining all that to me. I know you’re a very capable, smart, caring person. Your only flaw was falling for my brother.”

“You can’t know that,” she told him. “Before Glen dumped me, I barely ever saw you and when we were together at family functions, we didn’t talk.”

“I know.”

He took the box from her, then put his arm around her as they walked to her apartment. Once they were inside, he pushed her toward the bathroom.