Page 13 of I Never Stopped Loving You

“The son?”

“Yeah. Noah is the son. Nathaniel is the father.”

“Who did you interview with today?”

“Nathaniel.”

“Damn…Not both? They could’ve gone all good cop, bad cop on you.” Her smirk says it all.

“Jesus.”

She laughs as I smack her in the arm.

“I wouldn’t do anything like that. I interviewed with Nathaniel. He asked me back for a second interview next week.”

“Hell yeah, that means you got the job.”

She clinks her glass to mine before downing the rest of it.

“Not necessarily.”

I swirl the glass, letting the wine rise along the sides until it almost spills over the top.

“What do you mean? He asked you back, so obviously he’s interested. Now tell me more about Noah.”

She gets up and walks into the kitchen. A few seconds later, she’s cursing as the cork is fighting back in the second bottle of wine.

“Here, give it to me.”

I take the bottle and easily pull out the cork.

“Sometimes I forget how strong you are. Anyway, don’t avoid it any longer. Give me all the details.”

“Well, we can start with the fact that I made an ass of myself in front of him before I even knew who he was.”

I spend the next half hour telling her about Noah. The elevator ride up to their floor and him instantly knowing I was there for an interview. The way he teased me about my nervous energy. By the end of the story, the second bottle of wine is gone, and she is reaching for my phone.

“What are you doing?” I demand, pulling my phone away.

“Texting him. Give me the phone.”

“No. It’s not professional.”

“Technically, you don’t work there yet, so you’re not breaking any company rules. Come on, Willow. You’ve hardly left this house in almost a year other than for work.”

“Excuse me, I go to every single one of your shows,” I cut in.

“Yeah. Then you leave the second they’re done and disappear back here to avoid the afterparties.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong, but at least I’m there for the show. Plus, you know that I wouldn’t be much fun at a party.”

Actually, she doesn’t know much. When I moved back to Michigan almost four years ago, I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t go back to my hometown. Instead, I stayed near the city where I was going to go to college. I found an ad on Craigslist about a roommate wanted, and that’s when I met Jenna. They always say opposites attract, and we clicked instantly.

She always jokes that I’m the light and she’s the dark. The black cat always needs her golden retriever. My hair is a light strawberry blonde and Jenna’s hair color is a natural obsidian black that hangs halfway down to her waist. My eyes are forest green and hers are a bright blue, almost like the cloudless sky reflecting on a shimmering lake. My clothes are almost all business professional. The few random non-business attire items include a few pairs of jeans, bright colored tops, skirts, and dresses. Jenna looks like she owns the entire clothing line from the early 2000’s Hot Topic. Black, spikes, leather, and fishnets. The woman is a walking Myspace fever dream. She’s a fashion major who proves every day it was never just a phase.

“I know you hate the thought of going to the afterparties, but if you would just try to hang out one night…”

“Jenna,” I huff, and she drops it.