Tyson responds with a bunch of laughing emojis before letting me off the hook with a final text.
Tyson: Fine. Next time, you’re joining us. You gotta come out at least once before our first game.
Me: Deal.
I agree because he’s right. I enjoy hanging out with the team, but I won’t do it once the games start. If I don’t go out with them soon, it will be February before I let them drag me to a club.
I silence my phone and put it on the charger for the night. Nothing caught my attention, so I click off the TV since andturn off the lights with the remote next to my bed. No use staying awake. I might as well get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be another long day of conditioning and practice and I absolutely love every second of it.
FIVE
EVAN
Much to Hope’s disappointment, I did not leave work at five or six or even seven. She finally called it a night at six-thirty when I insisted she leave. She’s been doing her job for years and knows exactly what to do and when. I still have a lot to learn and there is no reason for her to stay late just because I do. I appreciate her willingness to go the extra mile, but I don’t expect my employees to work overtime hours unless it’s absolutely necessary and if that happens, I will make sure they get compensated. I’ve never understood bosses who expect their employees to work for free. I’ve been fortunate that I haven’t experienced that so far in my career. I’ve had some great bosses over the years. Now that I’m the boss, I want to be like the good ones I’ve had.
It's almost eight when I finally reach my car after shutting everything down and locking up. Hopefully, I’ll start to get the hang of the job in the next few weeks, so I can cut back on some of the extended hours. Being a salaried employee, I don’t get the benefit of overtime and even if it was an option,I would refuse. I don’t believe I should be paid for choosing to stay late and learn more about my job.
I’m pulling out onto the highway when my phone rings. There’s more traffic than I expected, so I don’t bother looking at the number before I hit the connect button on the side of my steering wheel. It’s probably my parents. I haven’t spoken to them in five days, the longest I’ve ever gone without at least one conversation.
“Hello,” I say as I merge onto the expressway and almost immediately come to a complete stop. Must be an accident or road construction. I’m still not familiar with the city, so I don’t know an alternate route to my apartment.
“Evan,” the deep voice on the other end of the phone replies and my heart sinks. “Have you fucked up the new job and come crawling back to mommy and daddy yet?”
My heart stops. I can’t breathe. Thank goodness I’m stopped, or I might have wrecked the car when he spoke.
“The job is good,” I finally find words to respond. Mike was my boyfriend until I moved to Miami. We broke up, which was the best part of taking this job, and we haven’t spoken since a few days before I left Rutherford.
“Doubtful,” he scoffs. “You know as well as I do that you’re going to fail miserably with this venture. It’s in your blood. You can’t help but be a complete and utter fuck up at everything in your life. Come on, Evvy,” he continues in his typical condescending voice. “You know you’re in over your head. It’s time to give up before you dig yourself into a hole you can’t climb out of.”
I hate when he calls me Evvy. What kind of name is that? It certainly isn’t short for Evan.
“Is there something you need?” I snap. I’m not in the mood for Mike tonight. He’s an ass and I allowed him to rule my life for far too long. The more he talks, the more my heartraces, and my hands shake. If traffic wasn’t at a standstill, I’d be pulling over.
“For starters, you need to stop playing this game and come home where you belong. You will never be able to make it without me.” Is he serious? I can do this without him. I think. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re questioning your decision because you know I’m right.”
“I’m doing fine here,” I squeak out, giving away the fact that he’s getting to me.
“Are you really, Evvy? It’s time to give up. I’ll get you a job here, so you can actually make a decent living. You will move in with me and take care of my home and me. I’ll even allow you to choose the meals you cook at least twice a week. You’re shit at planning menus, but at least you’re a decent cook.”
“So, you want me to quit my job, move in with you, and be your chef?”
“Not at all. You will be in charge of cooking, cleaning, taking care of the house and yard, but you will also need to get a job. I expect you to pay your way. I’m not dating some freeloader.”
Wow, such a generous bastard. “You’re not dating me at all. We broke up,” I say with confidence I don’t feel.
“Hahaha, that’s funny. You pitched your little tantrum and moved away for a month. I allowed it because it was time for you to see how much you actually need me in order to function. But now, I’m sick of this game and expect you to be back in New Jersey and moved into my home by the weekend. That gives you three days. It’s not like you have much to move. I mean, can you even afford furniture or are you living on a street corner?”
“I’m not moving back to Jersey and if I ever choose to come back, it sure won’t be for you.” I disconnect the callbefore Mike can respond. As I pass the accident and traffic starts moving at a steady pace, the phone rings again. This time, I glance at the screen and see Mike’s name. I ignore the call. I’m still shaking from the last encounter. Talking to anyone, especially Mike, that way is not my normal personality. I’m a pushover, which is why I allowed Mike to control me for so long.
It will take time to get settled here and think of Miami as my home, but I like the job and my apartment. For the first time in my life, I’m completely on my own and I’m slowly finding my way. The job is only difficult because it’s new. Every day, I feel more confident and like I’m getting the hang of one more thing.
In the twenty minutes it takes me to drive the rest of the way home, Mike calls three more times and I ignore him all three times. I can visualize him fuming while pacing his house. He’s always been a pacer when he gets angry, which seemed to be constantly when we were dating.
When I get inside my apartment, I skip the shower, strip down to my underwear, and fall into bed. I should eat dinner, but the conversation with Mike stole my appetite. I’m physically and mentally exhausted, yet sleep doesn’t come. I toss and turn for hours, Mike’s words playing on repeat.
Work has always come easy for me. At my old job, it was the only part of my life where I had any confidence in my abilities. Starting over broke some of that confidence and some days, I feel like I’m floundering and should have stayed in New Jersey. At twenty-seven, it was time for me to move out on my own and figure out my life.
Crawling back to Mike isn’t an option no matter what happens in Miami. Even if I do fail here, he’ll never know. He’s probably right, though. I’m not good at being alone. I miss my parents and the familiarity of my hometown. Here,all I know is how to get from my apartment to the stadium and the grocery store. It’s kind of sad. I should have ventured out more before the job started.