California Dreaming: Four Contemporary Romances
Read California Dreaming: Four Contemporary Romances Online
Authors: Casey Dawes
Tags: #romance, #Contemporary
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Casey Dawes
Avon, Massachusetts
This edition published by
Crimson Romance
an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
10151 Carver Road, Suite 200
Blue Ash, Ohio 45242
Copyright © 2012 by Casey Dawes
ISBN 10: 1-4405-5416-1
ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5416-2
eISBN 10: 1-4405-5417-X
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5417-9
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
Cover art 123rf.com / bigstockphoto.com ©atome
To all my writing groups, past and present, who have encouraged, goaded, corrected and inspired me to keep going, especially Bill, Caryn, Clare, Grace, Heidi, June, Laurie, Linda, Pam, Rionna, Rosemary, and Susan. For my most faithful reader, my husband, Ken. In memoriam to Stanley W. Young, Jr., may you finally be in a place to be at one with the peace that passes all understanding.
Acknowledgments
We never know how what we say or do affects someone. I’ve been blessed to be on the receiving end of many teachings, both pleasant and unpleasant. There’s the woman in Al-Anon who told me I had no faith (true), a man who told me I should stop trying to tune in the figurative radio station I was listening to and find a new one. There were men who hit me and men who held me. A woman stepped out of a crowd during the final leg of my Avon walk in San Francisco, put her arm around me and said, “I’ll walk with you. You don’t have to do it alone.”
We really don’t do it alone. It takes many people to make a book dream a reality. Thank you to the people who taught me lessons I needed to learn about life and writing. The Romance Writers of America, especially the Monterey Bay and Montana chapters have been wonderful support groups. Having
California Sunset
accepted by Crimson Romance has changed my life. Thank you, Jennifer Lawler! And thank you to the wonderful editorial and production staff at Crimson.
Thank you too to the professionals and lay people who poked and prodded me to change the radio station from one of doubt to one of victory: Al-Anon, therapists, ministers, friends and others too numerous to name.
I will continue to “pass it forward.”
Annie strode into her boss’s office to answer his summons.
Maybe I’m finally going to get a bonus this year!
It would be great to be able to sock that money away in David’s college fund.
She grabbed the printouts off Randy’s chair and dropped them to the floor with a thud. “It’s going great, Randy,” she said. “The next piece of the project is nailed down and we’re still on track.”
“Close the door, please,” he said.
“I’m counting on this project to showcase what I can do for the company.” Annie shut the door and plopped down in the chair, her pen poised over her pad as she leaned forward. How should she react? Surprised? Matter of fact?
Randy cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his scrawny neck. “I’m afraid the project has been terminated.”
“What?”
“JCN needs to cut costs,” he started. “Ten thousand people are being laid off from the company.”
“There’s got to be another project somewhere.”
Randy pawed through the papers on his desk. “There
is
another project you can apply for. You’d be great for one in New Jersey and they could use your skills. It’s complex and government-mandated — one of those impossible situations you’re good at handling.”
“I can’t move to New Jersey.” She’d been to New Jersey once — boardwalks, billboards, and Bruce Springsteen. Not a place she could ever imagine living. And she couldn’t drag her son away from his friends. He was only fifteen.
“C’mon, Annie. Give it a chance. I’d hate for the company to lose you.”
She shook her head.
New Jersey may have been fine for Frank Sinatra, but it wasn’t fine for her. It had taken so long after her divorce to feel secure again. She had her friends, her home, her cats.
“There’s nothing in the company in this area for someone with your skills. I looked. If you aren’t willing to apply for the job, then I have no choice. I have to lay you off. Even if you do apply, there’s no guarantee that you’ll get the job in New Jersey. You may be laid off anyway.”
Her stomach dropped and the bitter smell of Randy’s coffee became nauseating. She stared out the window, not really seeing the rain-greened California hills, unable to believe what she was hearing. What was she going to do? Randy’s voice streamed around her, and her mind snagged phrases like “severance package,” “layoff procedure,” and “resume class.” She gripped the arms of the chair as if she was trying to steady a rocking boat.
An ache began in the back of her neck. She needed this job. No one else was going to support David or provide medical benefits. She was going to have to do something to keep a salary coming in. And with the economy the way it was, chances of finding a new job soon would be slim, especially for a thirty-five-year-old woman. Unemployment wouldn’t cover her mortgage, much less her other expenses.
Maybe she could learn to like New Jersey. After all, she liked Bruce Springsteen. Boardwalks and billboards might grow on her. There
was
an ocean, even if it wasn’t the Pacific.
But what about David? Would her ex fight her for custody if she tried to move their son out of state? Her stomach roiled and she forced back the tears welling in her eyes.
Never cry in the office. Never.
“You have six weeks before the layoff is final.” He gathered papers into a folder. “In the meantime, look these over. Annie?” He held the papers out to her. “I really hope you change your mind.”
She took a deep breath, looked Randy in the eye and took the folder, feeling like the proverbial truck had just slammed into her.
But she wouldn’t show it if she could help it.
So she threw back her shoulders and marched to her eight-by-eight office. Gently closing her office door behind her, she hurled her pad, pen, papers, and keys on her desk. Damn! She ran her hands through her curls. It would make her already frizzy hair stand out like Young Frankenstein’s, but she didn’t care.
Tears rolled down her face. She was tired of being the strong one, handling everything by herself. And now this. She’d worked at this company for eight years. How could they lay her off? Or worse, send her to godforsaken New Jersey?
She slid her laptop and Randy’s folder into her canvas bag and put on her “gently used” Burberry raincoat. Her head held high, low heels sounding a brisk staccato on the cement walkway, she strode out into the chill March air to the parking lot.
Her mind raced as she opened the door to her Prius. How could she move to New Jersey, leave behind her friends, and abandon the small beach bungalow that had been her sanctuary ever since the divorce? On the other hand, how could she give up a job that provided security and benefits for her child? David was going to go to college soon. Being laid off would destroy the nest egg she’d built for his college fund. Her ex wasn’t going to be any help. He could barely take care of himself. She slammed the door a little harder than she meant to do.
What would David think about moving to New Jersey? Could she make him understand? David was doing his part. He kept his grades up and practiced soccer faithfully. She was so proud of him and she couldn’t let him down.
She stared out the window, idly watching the moving clouds and changing light patterns as the sun peeked in and out. The recession had hurt Silicon Valley hard. She’d been working long enough to make it to management, the worst place to be during a recession.
She should at least look into the job in New Jersey.
Tomorrow I’ll figure out what they’re looking for and find out how to apply.
A small ray of hope filled her. Maybe a move would be okay. She could make a list and see what it would take. She glanced out the windshield. In a cone of sunlight, she spotted a soaring hawk. She trailed its spiral flight on an updraft, its red tail gleamed in the small patch of sunlit clouds. An omen that New Jersey was the right path? Or a signal that she was doing the wrong thing?
Tears threatened again, but she forced them back. She was still in the JCN parking lot and no one at the company was going to see her cry. She pressed the start button and started home.
She drove automatically, oblivious to the towering redwoods fading in and out of low-lying fog as she climbed the mountain highway. Her mind churned over the scene in Randy’s office, her emotions twisting and turning with the curves of the road.