Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
I braced myself and walked through the revolving door, revealing a large lobby.
I’d been instructed to head straight to the twelfth floor where this maintenance company had their offices.
I could be a maintenance guy.
I had plenty of experience.
Deep breaths.
I walked out into the cold and zipped up my coat, and I wanted to fucking scream. Those words—we’ll be in touch, Mr. O’Cleary—still rang in my ears along with a low rushing sound, but the hope was there too. The guy had seemed so positive, and he’d even asked if I was interested, considering I was overqualified. And I’d made it abundantly clear that this job would be perfect for me. Because it was a full-time position with primarily night shifts.
I liked night shifts when I didn’t have a place to sleep.
I hadn’t expected an official yes or no today, but I could usually tell if they were likely to call back. Here, fucking nothing. The interview had gone well, and I hadn’t felt the need to exaggerate or lie about anything. Building maintenance was the little brother to construction in a way. It was just a matter of maintaining all the things I knew how to install and build. Granted, my expertise lay in single-family homes, and running maintenance in apartment complexes and office buildings was a bit different, but I knew what I was doing.
By the time I veered right onto East Ontario, I’d let Angie know I was five minutes away, and I’d decided to stay in the city tonight. Ma was still fretting over my car and living arrangements, and she was under the impression I was working late today anyway. So if I showed up, she’d just grow suspicious and more worried.
I had my survival technique for the city down pat at this point. When Angie was off to work, I’d stick around for another hour or so, and then I’d go to one of the larger McDonald’s locations in the Loop, stay there till it was nearing midnight, before I found a dark corner the world had forgotten.
Recent mugging aside, I’d managed to avoid much of the violence many faced on the streets. I had my fair share of scars, sure, but it could be a lot worse. Because my rule of thumb was avoid, avoid, avoid. Avoid crowded places, avoid locations where crime was more prevalent, avoid junkies. I could think of a single exception, and that was when the weather forced me indoors. Otherwise, I’d rather take a snow-filled gangway than a twenty-four-seven open fast-food joint around Michigan.
As I rounded the corner, I spotted Angie across the street, heading into the McDonald’s. I picked up the pace and slipped between a horde of Asian tourists and a family with four kids.
Doing a quick count of my riches, I figured I could set aside four bucks for today. I could stretch that to get me through the day.
Say whatever you want about McDonald’s, but their dollar menu had saved my ass more times than I could count. Even more so when I came here with Angie, ’cause she had the app that contained more discounts. And occasionally free fries and coffee with my purchase.
I opened the door and found Angie by the kiosks, and I went over to her.
“Hey.”
She looked up from her phone and smiled. “How did it go?” She stepped in for a hug, and I gave her a quick squeeze and kissed the top of her head.
“I wanna say good, but he was fucking unreadable,” I replied. “I guess we’ll see.”
Angie did what she always did; she said she had a good feeling about this job, and then she distracted me with shiny coupons in the app. It was just as well. I needed the distraction to keep from hoping.
Hope was the most painful poison.
“What’re you in the mood for?” Angie asked. “I have a double shift coming up, so I’m gonna go to town on a Big Mac and extra fries.”
I snorted softly under my breath, wondering why we kept up with this charade. She knew me better than anyone, and we still fed each other bullshit to spare my ego, which I wasn’t sure I had left. She always ordered way more than she could stomach, and I always ordered coffee and a cheeseburger, claiming I’d already eaten.
Today was no different, except the coupon. She got a free dessert that she’d give to me, because halfway through her meal, she would discover that she’d ordered too much food.
My one and only comfort that prevented me from feeling like a freeloading piece of shit around Angie was that she always needed help with something in her apartment.
I could understand giving up space and paying a higher rent if you really wanted to live in a good neighborhood in the city, but her building was falling apart, and the maintenance team was useless. So not only was she paying seventeen fucking hundred a month for a small one-bedroom, but the whole place was an accident waiting to happen. Door hinges coming off, leaks, crappy plumbing, and for the past year, a boyfriend.