Ava's Prize. Cari Lynn Webb
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Lacey helped get me the job at Zenith.” She pointed the ball at him. “You are friends with both Drew Harrington and Lacey, so you should be there at the fund-raiser to support your friend’s family.”
“I don’t have friends.” He threw her words back at her.
“You don’t have friends who come here to hang out, play arcade games and write their names on the chalkboard wall.” She turned to the lane, tossed her ball into the fifty-point ring and smiled. Her voice came out more like an accusation. “But you do have business friends.”
“Fortunately, I have those business connections.” Kyle ran his hands through his hair as if that would contain his frustration. He didn’t mind supporting his sister, especially since her disaster of a marriage and the extreme fallout after her divorce. But she needed something of her own. Certainly, she wanted that for herself, too. All she had to do was stay longer than a week at a job and she’d start to build something. “It’s been those business friends who’ve been willing to offer you employment. But I’m running low on those connections.”
“Then you can network tonight at the Harrington event.” She frowned at her final score and restarted the game. “If it makes you feel any better, I really intended to be at that job longer than a week.”
He’d intended the very same thing. Had even bought her an entire work wardrobe for this particular job, believing this would be the one she stuck with. Her suit jacket bagged around her shoulders—she still hadn’t regained the weight she’d lost after her divorce. Her frame had always been frail, but now she looked even more fragile. More vulnerable. He sighed and softened his voice. “Tell me what happened.”
She watched the balls roll into the queue. “When am I going to meet your new friends?”
Iris released information according to her own schedule. In her own way. She’d continue returning his question with one of her own for the rest of the morning. Determined to end the game, he said, “I met them at the calendar shoot for juvenile diabetes research several weekends ago. I offered to give Ben, who has juvenile diabetes, a tour of the place. He likes to invent things.”
She cradled the ball and turned to face him, but her gaze refused to meet his. “It was a mutual parting of the ways at Zenith. Wade and I agreed I wasn’t right for the job. I’ve already made plans to meet up with Wade and his entire team at Rustic Grille for appetizers and drinks next week.”
His sister had remained friends with every one of her prior employers. Every single one. She’d crossed the employee-employer boundary, proving they were better buddies than coworkers. He might’ve envied her ease at making friends if not for the fact that her friends wouldn’t pay her rent or her credit-card bills. “What now?”
“I have options.” Both her voice and small grin lacked confidence.
More like Kyle would have to find her another employment option. He rolled his last ball up the ramp. “Options that can pay your rent, bills and food.”
“Why is it always about money?” Irritation dipped into her normally sweet tone.
He’d just asked Terri of Tech Realized, Inc. the very same thing. He repeated Terri’s response. “Once you have enough money, you can do whatever you want. Whatever you’re passionate about.”
“Are you living your passion now that you have money?” Iris tossed her ball from one hand to the other as if debating whether or not to launch it at him. “Living alone in an arcade. Is this the life you always imagined?”
When had it become about him and his life? Or his passion. Whatever she meant by that. He could count on his hand the number of people he knew that were passionate about their work. Maybe he needed to extend his circle of acquaintances. They weren’t discussing his life right now, anyway. “Come with me tonight to the Harrington event. We’ll find someone with a job opening that you can be passionate about.”
“I have another commitment tonight.” She turned back to the game.
“For a potential job?”
“Maybe,” she hedged.
Kyle studied his sister. He wanted her to be happy. She deserved to finally be happy after a marriage that had left her isolated and scared to trust anyone, even her own family. His throat closed as if a Skee-Ball lodged there. “Iris...”
“I’ll change my plans around.” She eyed him. Her chin tipped up in challenge. “As long as you introduce me to your new friends.”
Simple. Easy. “Done.”
He had no idea when he’d see Dan, Ben or Ava again. That promise wouldn’t be difficult to keep. Smiling, he walked toward the back of the suite, grabbed his checkbook from a desk drawer and wrote out a check in his sister’s name. He knew by heart how much she’d need to cover her monthly expenses—he’d written the same check every month for the past year. Returning to the inspiration area, he handed her the check. “It’s enough to cover rent and food for the month.”
“I’ve got everything covered.” She focused on the lane, both her voice and grip on the ball intense.
“You’ve already lined up another job.” He couldn’t quite pull the surprised sarcasm from his voice.
She tossed the ball, pumped her fist as it rolled into the highest point ring. “Not yet. But I will.”
“Then you’re going to need this.” Kyle thrust the check at her. “Just take it.”
His sister launched her final ball. Landed another high point and jumped up in the air. “Where’s the chalk?”
“The what?” he asked.
She waved toward the chalkboard wall. “The chalk. I need to write my name over Ava’s.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“I’m the new high score.” She jumped again and pointed at him. “You can tell Ava I said, challenge accepted.”
Why couldn’t his sister be this competitive in the workforce? “You need to go home and iron your suit—the one you wore for your job interview at Zenith—and not worry about being the high score.”
“No ironing today.” She erased Ava’s name and wrote hers with her trademark flourish and flower to dot the second lowercase I in her name. “I have an appointment with Roland Daniels to de-stress and unwind.”
He needed to de-stress. How could his sister be so unpredictable and stubborn? She’d just lost her job. Again. “Stop at the bank and deposit this check on your way to the yoga studio.”
“I already agreed to go with you to the Harrington event. You don’t need to pay me like I’m your employee or something.”
Kyle cleared his throat to release the truth. The truth she never wanted to hear. “You can’t go back to Penny’s Place, Iris. Take the check.”
Iris crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at him. “Why not? They understand me there.”
“It’s a shelter for abused and abandoned women.” He still cringed at the memories of seeing his sister in the doorway of Penny’s Place. Her bruised eye. The stitches circling her wrist and crisscrossing her forehead. A nauseous fury still stormed through him at the reminder. “You aren’t either of those things now.”
She yanked the check from his grip and stuffed it into her suit pocket. “Because of your handouts.”
“It’s not like that.” If she’d keep a job, she wouldn’t need his handouts. He smoothed the frustration from his voice. “I want to help. That’s all.”
He wanted his sister to have security and protection—everything she never had in her brief marriage.
Iris slipped her heels back on, once again looking the part of a corporate professional ready to conquer the business world, one promotion