Winter Jacket: Finding Home by Eliza Lentzski Read Free Book Online Page A

I read, and by the time I went to sleep that night, I was starting to feel more confident about what the next day would bring—my first official day on the job.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter THREE
     
     
    The next morning, the other side of the queen-sized bed looked all wrong. I didn’t have long to reflect on who was missing from the other side of the bed before my bladder started making demands. I was sweaty, sticky, but not from any pleasurable reason. I needed to figure out the temperature controls in this rental apartment.
    I was finishing up my breakfast when Troian buzzed to be let into the apartment. She had insisted on bringing me to my first day of work. I was perfectly capable of driving myself—I’d just crossed the country in my trusty car, after all—but it was a nice gesture. I was surprised she didn’t show up with a sack lunch for me, too. She had brought me coffee though.
    “This is unacceptable.”
    I paused my cereal spoon on its way to my mouth. “Huh?”
    “What is this dump?” Troian demanded.
    “Be nice.” I had only spent two nights in my new home, but I still felt compelled to defend it. “I thought you’d seen this place already?”
    “Hell, no. If I had, you wouldn’t be having breakfast at a glorified card table.”
    “What about those notes from you and the stack of screenwriting books?” I asked.
    “I had my assistant take care of that for me,” she revealed. “I would have done it myself, but you wouldn’t believe the hoops the network is having me jump through. I haven’t had a moment to myself since I signed my name on the dotted line.”
    “I’m glad you had the time to pick me up for work,” I remarked.
    “I blocked out the entire day to help you get acclimated. But first I’m talking to Human Resources as soon as we get to the lot. How am I supposed to convince you to give writing a real shot if they put you up in a crack house?”
    “It’s really not that bad,” I insisted. “It’ll just be like I’m a poor college student again.”
    Troian continued to look cross.
    “Let’s give it a week for it to grow on me,” I suggested.
    “After a week of living here you might actually have something growing on you,” Troian deadpanned. “What did Hunter think of this place?”
    “I’m sure she’d agree with you that it’s a dump,” I observed. “But unlike you, she actually has tact.”
    “Whatever,” she snorted. “What was her deal the other day?”
    “She was a little intense,” I acknowledged, “but it’s hard—on both of us. We were just finding our rhythm with each other, and now I’m out here.”
    “By your own choice,” Troian pointed out.
    “I know.” I grabbed my breakfast dishes and deposited them in the kitchen sink for later. “We should probably get going. I’d hate to be late for my first day of work.”
    I’d meant for my words to distract Troian from discussing further my situation with Hunter, but they ended up causing my stomach to lurch uncomfortably. Writing for a new television show had been an intangible idea for so many months, but now it was becoming real. It felt like being the new kid on the first day of school.
    My mounting anxiety must have been palpable. “Nervous?” Troian asked me as we climbed into her car.
    “Of course.”
    “Good.” She slipped on her aviator sunglasses and adjusted the rearview mirror. “If you weren’t, I’d be afraid you weren’t serious about being here.”
    “I’m serious about this opportunity,” I said determinedly. “To imagine myself as something more than an English professor? That’s pretty exciting, but terrifying at the same time.”
    “For the record, I’m pumped we’re finally doing this. You know I’ve wanted us to work together for a while now. I’m sure Nik is tired of hearing me talk about it.”
    “How is Nik?”
    “She’s good. She had a really good season and got some