Endless: REWRITTEN

6. Turquoise

Natalie

Needless to say, I didn't return to the office for a solid week, and I'm never going to. Because of these circumstances, I'm officially unemployed. I'm not worried as much because I can always revive my position at AMDA, but will it be enough to pay for my expenses in Manhattan? It's a part-time job that I only had to pay for my travels across the country, but it's not necessarily a livable wage. So I have to get smart and creative. Luckily, during my time in college, I've accumulated some experience in Corporate America, so I applied to a few credit and insurance bureaus. Within the week, some have called me back for interviews, and I have one scheduled for Archose, an reputable insurance company in the area.

It was honestly the place I had my hopes up the most about. Everything about them is professional and sleek, a perfect fit for me. This is simply a job to keep myself afloat until I can get back into politics again, the place where my heart really belongs. For now, though, this will have to do.

Of course, the interview goes swimmingly. Why wouldn't it? I would later come to regret that.

The CEO of Archose, a woman by the name of Viola Nelson, walks me around the office where clients and employees alike are in their environment, doing their jobs. Everyone seems so focused, but then there's those few who are taking time to relax and talk with their coworkers or laugh with their clients.

"So, if we were to hire you..." Viola tells me. "We'd have you get acquainted with my co-operator and our chief insurance officer. Both are fabulous people, you'd love them."

"Sounds wonderful," I smile.

"How about we give you a call once we make our decision?" she offers, shaking my hand. She then walks me out of the door of the two-story building made almost entirely of glass and lights. I check my watch, noting the time.

I'm purposely procrastinating picking up my replacement phone from the store because I know I'll have to call Robin with it if I do. I could make up the excuse that things happened, but half of me... kind of does want to go out with him. It's unexplainable, but he reminds me of a golden retriever. Aggressive, but it's in a playful way. The type of dog you have to be rough with or it's no fun.

I haven't dated in five years. I was doing so well with it, too. I managed to fend off all advances successfully (or at least until recently) and also be content with my singleness. Which cruel god dropped this devilishly charming man onto me? Nevertheless, I can't leave him hanging; I at least have to entertain this.

After picking up the phone, I transfer all my contacts and procrastinate some more. I called Cheyenne and set up a lunch for tomorrow, cleaned my entire apartment, purged my wardrobe, cook dinner, and sort through all my makeup and hair products, tossing the old products away. Even after I finish all this, it's only eight P.M.

Fine... let's just do this. I find the number I wrote on an old receipt in the kitchen drawer, feeling a blush creep across my entire body. Come on, you've worked with huge politicians for years and you can't call one miniscule man?

No, I can't. So I drop him a text. Nothing back yet.

By nine P.M, an hour after I send the text, I'm pacing the living room anxiously. What if I got a digit wrong? To keep myself from squirming on my couch, I light a candle and open my laptop, ready to watch a movie on Netflix. But even when I choose a film, my mind is still on my unread message.

Ten P.M rolls around and I've just succumbed to my phone, downloading random apps and games to keep myself preoccupied. Maybe my phone hasn't informed me that he messaged me back. I check the conversation; still unread.