“I sure do.” I pull one from my purse and pass it over.
She takes the résumé and scans the front page. Her name badge reads Noreen S., Assistant Manager. “Personal assistant to the CFO of Smith Financial? A bachelor’s in business administration?” She glances up at me. “You’re a little overqualified for a position as a cashier, Teagan Firestone, is it? Would you happen to be related to Van?”
“He’s my older brother. I’m hoping to move to Pearl Lake, and I feel that I’d make a great addition to your team. I’m great with people, organized, and I’m very reliable.”
She gives me a small, somewhat uncertain smile. “You know, they’d probably love someone like you over at Bernie’s.”
“Bernie’s?” I tip my head.
“The town lawyer. He’s been complaining about not having enough help lately.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, then. I’d still really like the opportunity to work here, though.” And I don’t know if I can handle another rejection.
She regards me for a few long seconds. “The position is only for one shift a week right now.”
“That’s fine with me. When can I start?” I cross my fingers and hope like hell this is me getting a job.
The phone rings. “Just hold on a moment.” She takes the call, turning her back to me while she has a low, whispered conversation. She hangs up a minute later and turns to me with a smile on her face. “It looks like you’re in luck. One of our employees called in sick for her afternoon shift. Can you start now?”
“I absolutely can.”
“Why don’t you fill out the paperwork, and we’ll get you a shirt and I’ll show you around the store.”
“That sounds great.”
She extends her hand over the counter. “I’m Noreen Saunders. Welcome to the team, Teagan.”
“Saunders? Does that mean you’re related to Aaron? He works for Footprint Construction with my brother’s fiancée, Dillion.”
“Yup, sure am. I’m his mother.”
“Oh, wow. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Noreen.” The six-degrees-of-separation thing is strong in this town.
CHAPTER 4
MAKING MY OWN WAY
Teagan
As it turns out, the person whose shift I’m working this afternoon happens to work at the paint counter. Chloe gives me the rundown and shows me where to find the contractor accounts and the discount codes before she leaves.
It’s not busy, so I spend my time reorganizing the color display, putting this year’s most popular colors in their own section before I line up paint chips and wallpaper combinations. My shift is over before I know it, and Noreen, who has come to check on me periodically during the day, stops by to see how things are going.
“Oh, wow.” She motions to the wall display. “Did you do all this?”
I worry I’ve overstepped. “I can put it back the way it was if you don’t like it. It got slow there for a while, and I wanted to stay busy.”
“Oh no, don’t do that. It looks great. Harry keeps talking about getting a professional display organizer to come in, but it’s expensive,” Noreen says and gives me a warm, reassuring smile. “And now I guess he doesn’t have to worry about the expense anymore.”
“Harry is the owner?” I ask.
“Yup. He’s Harry Junior and took over this place from his dad. I think he’ll be real happy with this, Teagan.”
“I hope so.” I know what an interior decorator costs, so I’m sure a display organizer doesn’t do too badly. I’d never considered that it could be someone’s job, but I can see how setting up something that’s visually appealing can help sales.
“I’m sure he’ll want you to do the same thing for our other departments,” Noreen says.
“You think so?”
“Oh, definitely. Would you be able to come back in on Wednesday? There’s a nine-to-five shift open?”
“That sounds perfect.”
Noreen smiles. “I think you’re going to be great for Harry’s.”
I arrive back at Van and Dillion’s place in time to help with dinner.
“I can’t believe you already have a job.” Van sets a cob of corn on a piece of foil, adds a dollop of butter, and wraps it up.
“I’m not surprised at all.” Dillion tosses a handful of chopped tomatoes into the salad. “And if you’re interested, I can always use help. We’re heading into the busy season.”
“Thanks, I appreciate the offer.” But I’d like to try to get jobs on my own merit and not have them handed to me. “I wasn’t sure anyone was going to hire me. I should have changed my address on my résumé.” I explain what happened at the first few places I stopped.
Dillion gives me a sympathetic look. “The town can be pretty covetous when it comes to keeping the people who live here employed. They like to give the summer jobs to the kids who go away to college, sort of incentive to keep them coming back, you know?”
“That makes sense. I didn’t understand how big the divide was until today.” But now that I think about it, I can see why the woman at town hall was so brusque with me. “Oh, and I saw your friend Tawny at the hardware store when I was picking up paint.”
Dillion stops chopping peppers. “Oh? I hope she was nice to you.”
“She made a comment to Aaron asking if I was a project from the other side of the lake.”
“Oh my God! She did not!” Dillion slaps her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“He told her I was Van’s sister, and she was super nice after that. Invited me out for drinks with you if I’m ever around on a Wednesday.”
“Ahhh. Okay. That’s good. Tawny isn’t a fan of the McMansion ladies.”
“I gathered as much. Aaron said something about not being like that anymore. Do you know what that’s all about?” I don’t know why I care so much about the negative way he seems to react to me, but maybe this has something to do with it.
“Aaron has a reputation for keeping the women on the other side of the lake entertained between the sheets.”
“Oh. Is that a bad thing?”
“Not if you’re one of the women from the other side of the lake, or at least those are the rumors. I don’t know how much of that is true and how much isn’t. But there are stories floating around. We joke about him mowing lawns, and we’re not referring to their grass, if you know what I mean.” Dillion rolls her eyes.
“Huh. Well, that’s . . . something.”
“Don’t be feeding Teagan the town gossip when you don’t know if any of it is actually true.” Van points a pair of barbecue tongs at Dillion as he grabs the steaks from the fridge.
“He doesn’t refute it,” Dillion replies with a shrug.
“But does he confirm it? Think about that.” Van pushes out the front door, leaving me with more questions than answers about Aaron.
After dinner I leave Dillion and Van and go up to the apartment. They told me at least six times I didn’t need to go, but I faked a few yawns and told them I was tired. I’m not, but I want to watch a few DIY painting and wallpapering videos.