Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
“Sure. Sounds great.” It isn’t until after she ends the call that the “us” registers.
Seven minutes later, I arrive at The Dirty Olive. It’s swanky, and not a place I would typically frequent because the drinks are pricey. But I just had an interview, and it seems to have gone well. I can afford to splurge on one expensive cocktail. I’ll trim my entertainment budget for the week and won’t buy that tub of Moose Tracks ice cream. Totally worth the sacrifice.
With Essie in Vancouver and the end of me and Rob, I’ve felt untethered. I miss the comfort of Essie’s friendship and the security of a long-term boyfriend. I’d hoped Eugenia and Claude would be fun roommates, but that turned into a bag of shit real fast. So it’s nice to have a potential new friend, even if she’s connected to my brother’s job.
When I enter, Hemi is already seated at a high-top table with another woman. She has a chin-length bob, dark eyes framed with enviably thick lashes, and the physique of an athlete.
“Hey, Rix!” Hemi stands and pulls me in for a hug. “I hope you don’t mind. I brought along a friend.”
“The more the merrier,” I reply. I’m not dying to get home and hang out with Flip and Tristan and their flavors of the night. Although so far only Flip is bringing home bedroom friends.
“Rix, this is Hammer. Hammer, this is Rix.” Hemi motions between us. “Rix is Madden’s sister; Hammer is Hammerstein’s daughter.”
“Hey!” I recall Tristan saying something about Hammerstein having a daughter my age the day of the fight-fire-with-fire mission. Hammerstein is the oldest member of the team, but he’s not even forty. And Hammer looks like she might be fresh out of her teens. She’s in a bar, drinking, so she must be at least nineteen. I can’t see Hemi bringing her here otherwise.
“Hammer’s completing her university internship with me this semester, and we’re having an absolute blast, aren’t we?” Hemi says with a smile.
Hammer grins. “Best internship already, and I started two days ago. And my actual name is Peggy, which is also my great-grandma’s name. Rest in peace.” She makes the sign of the cross. “But the team calls me Hammer.”
“Got it. My actual name is Beatrix, which is also a grandma’s name. My parents liked to shorten our names, so I became Rix, and my brother became Flip because I couldn’t pronounce it when I was a kid. It took on a whole new meaning when he became a pro hockey player, though.”
Hammer makes a face. “Oh yeah, he’s got quite the reputation.”
“He does,” I agree.
“I’m also named after my grandmother, who thankfully is still around and full of sass,” Hemi notes. “But Wilhelmina is a ridiculously long name, and I drove a Hemi in high school. The nickname stuck.”
“Why did you drive a Hemi?” I ask.
“My moms wanted a safe vehicle. They thought a truck with a powerful engine that also could drive over pretty much anything qualified.”
“That’s legit.” I still don’t own a car. Living in Toronto means relying on public transit.
Hemi nods and switches gears. “So, tell me about the interview. Did you show them all your fancy charts and wow their socks off?”
“I think it went well. By the end, we were laughing and chatting. It was relaxed. I feel like they’re a lot more my speed than my last job.” Although I’m still not one hundred percent sure accounting is the right field for me. I do love putting together weekly meal plans for my brother and Tristan. I’m not sure how I could spin that into a money-making career, though. It would require a lot more school.
“Who interviewed you? Mike and Laura?” Hemi asks.
“Yeah, and Fergie.”
“You made Fergie laugh? You’re definitely getting the job. We need to celebrate your impending employment.”
The server comes over, and I order a glass of water and a chocolate martini.
Hammer’s phone buzzes, and she checks the screen, rolling her eyes. “Hold on a second. It’s my dad.” She answers the call. “Hey, I’m in the middle of a debriefing with Hemi. Can I call you back later?” She purses her lips. “You don’t need to wait on me for dinner. I’ll probably be another hour, maybe a bit more. We’ll grab a bite… No, I don’t need a ride. Dad, I’ve been living off-campus for the past three years. I’m super well versed in taking the subway. I’ll be fine. Yes, I’ll message when I’m on my way home. Oh my God, no. Do not have Hollis pick me up. That’s ridiculous. I’m fine. I need to go. I love you.” She ends the call.
“Is everything okay?” I ask. Maybe I pegged Roman wrong. He seemed pretty laid back when I met him.
“Yeah. Just my dad being overbearing. He already had a toddler at my age, so he gets freaked out about where I am and who I’m with. I get it, but seriously, I have no plans to get knocked up anytime soon. I’m fully committed to my vibrator these days. Which I can no longer keep on my bathroom vanity because my dad saw it the other day and nearly lost his goddamn mind.”