Page 42 of You'll Love it Here

I try to imagine where she could possibly have hidden more mess before the tidying began.

“It’s very... eclectic,” I say.

“Are you being a bitch?” Jane retorts, voice flat. “You want me to be sad and beige?”

I almost choke on my spit. “Sorry?”

She chuckles, easing back into the couch. “I’m just fucking around. I know it’s mad in here.” Her eyes drift over the room. “This is my first time really living alone, so I’m just letting myself be for a while, you know?”

“Yeah.” I take a harder look at Jane. She’s close to my age, but just moved out? That explains the energy of this room, I suppose. It’s like she just realized she could stay up as late as she wants and eat ice cream for dinner.

“That’s fair,” I agree. “And you moved here a year ago?”

“Yeah, just about.” She taps her fingers against the arm of the sofa. “Thirteen months I’ve been in this city.”

I glance at her kitchen, toward the microwave that’s the same as mine. The little clock indicates only two minutes have gone by. I repress a sigh and try to think of something else to say. “Did you come here for, um, work?”

“You mean, did I move to Calgary to work as an admin at an insurance office via a temp agency? Now that would’ve been fucked up.” She chuckles flatly. “No, I lived in a town north of Edmonton. Extremely cold, and extremely small.” Something painful lingers just below the surface of her expression. “So when I left my home, I chose the biggest city I could that wasn’t as cold as Edmonton in January.”

Again there’s a hint of something more behind the words she doles out. I get the feeling her leaving was more about getting away from there than coming here. She continues with a grin. “The amazing job at the insurance agency was simply pure, unadulterated luck.”

I join her chuckle this time. Admittedly, there’s an honesty about her that’s kind of refreshing after talking to Olivia. She doesn’t feel the need to impress me.

She curls her toes under herself and sits higher. “How about you? Did you move to the city for your fancy marketing job?” She’s not saying it in a rude way, but it still stings after everything tonight.

“Oh, not really.”

She eyes me just as curiously as I did to her a moment ago. “What’s the deal with that anyway? I used to only see you coming and going from work, and now...” She raises a brow. “You get canned?”

I swallow. “Oh, you know. I was sort of rude to a big client and the firm thought it would be best if I took a leave of rest.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh shit. Was he an asshole? I fucking bet he is.”

Something deep in my chest stirs with warmth that she takes my side without hesitation. “Well, he is a bit of a high-touch personality, but he contributes a great deal of...” Her eyes are already glazing over. And why am I filtering myself? “Yes, he’s a total piece of shit.”

Her head bobs in appreciation of my revelation. “I knew it.”

Suddenly, I start venting to her about all the effort I’ve put in, then shift to the office politics, and eventually I’m unloading the whole mess with Bob, my meltdown, and all the other mishaps and frustrations at work. Her reaction—equal parts delight and understanding—makes me feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders after the careful conversation with Olivia.

Because this doesn’t feel like a performance. It feels supportive.

“You know,” I say, “I haven’t shared that story with anyone. Or I did with Sami, I guess, but I wasn’t sober. So you’re like my first dry confession.”

“Wow.” She stares at her phone, where she’d looked up Bob Wolch’s crappy website. (She needed visuals, and that’s how we learned that Bob’s profile features photos of him golfing and holding dead fish. You couldn’t design a duller piece of shit.)

She rests her phone on the end table next to the peacock lamp. “So, are you and Sami like a thing?”

I reel backward. “What gives off that vibe?”

“I saw you walking together a few times. Seemed like you were getting close.”

“Oh, that’s just because he’s helping me out with the dog.”

“That’s all?” Jane asks, leaning closer. “I thought you guys looked pretty cute together.”

True, we’ve become buds. But my time in this corner of the city is coming to an end, and all Sami wants to do is stay stuck in the diner until it finally snuffs out. Anyway, once he finds out I’ve been helping Lana sell the building, he’ll probably want nothing to do with me.

“He’s great, but I don’t think we’re well matched,” I say. “Besides, dating isn’t my priority right now. I want to focus on putting the bigger pieces of my life in place before committing time to that.”