LOGINThe children had made some changes to their orca poster. They’d added a few sharks. And a sinking yacht… with little figures of people flailing around in the water. “I hope your father never sees that,” I said to Emma. “He’s always wanted a yacht.” “They’re bad for the fish,” she told me seriously. “Now what do you think of this one?” She held up a pretty green dress with flowers embroidered on the bodice. “It’s lovely,” I said. “Now go change. We don’t want to be late.” She scampered off, and I turned to Ethan. He showed me a pair of black jeans, then rummaged around in his dresser. He found a shark t-shirt and held it up with a sly smile. “Now, now,” I said. “Derek’s coming with us, you know.”Ethan went very still. “He’s the one who got us the reservations,” I explained. “If it wasn’t for him, we might have to go to Burger King or something.”Ethan relaxed slightly.“There’s that anime convention this weekend,” I continued, “and Samurai Sizzle is absolutely slammed. It’s a ki
“First, you must prepare,” Kimura said. He led me to a small space just behind the kitchen. It was relatively quiet here, but I could still feel the frantic pace as people in chef’s hats chopped and diced. Heat radiated off the burners in waves and I started to sweat.“Is this like Walmart?” I asked. “Because, all due respect to Sam Walton, who made a shit ton of money, I don’t want—”“Silence!” Kimura roared. None of the chefs flinched. They kept their heads down, focused and intense.“Before work, mind must be still, like quiet pond. Sit.” He pointed to a small, wooden stool.I sat. The seat was hard and my knees started to hurt right away.“Close your eyes. Meditate. If your mind wanders, I will help you.”I closed my eyes. This is ridiculous, I thought. I’m losing $40,000 an hour in billable potential to sit on a stool wearing orange polyester. I started thinking about the next quarter’s earning projections. Then I started thinking about the cat girl from earlier. I shifted my w
Bernard was not helpful. “Duude, you want a reservation at Samurai Sizzle? Tomorrow? You do know Baka Breakdown is on Saturday?”“No,” I replied, my voice rising in frustration. “I don’t even know what a Baka Breakdown is!”A group of people waiting outside the restaurant stared at me. One of them laughed. I turned away from them. Lowering my voice, I said, “C’mon Bernard, you’ve always come through for me in the past. You’re the man. Surely there must be something you can do?”“Don’t call me Shirley,” he replied automatically. “But maybe there is something I can do… Hang on a minute.”I hung on, watching as people in brightly-colored Asian-style costumes walked in and out of the restaurant. Maybe I should just give up and admit defeat. Just call Claire and tell her that what she wanted was impossible. And then she’d call Whittaker, who’d probably pull the reservations out of his back pocket. Where he kept stuff like that to impress much, much younger associates, so he could corrupt
“Hey, Derek.” Claire sounded stressed, but that deep note of despair was gone from her voice. “Claire.” I tried to seem calm and collected. Hearing her voice wasn’t causing my heart to beat faster. It wasn’t. I was just glad that she’d pulled herself out of her funk. After all, she was the mother of my child. Emma deserved a mother who was up to the job. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. I tensed.“Um, listen,” she said. “I was wondering if I could ask you a favor?”Yes! She needed my help. She missed me! She was finally realizing how empty her life was without me in it.“Sure,” I replied, my voice deep like John Wayne. “What do you need?”“Do you think you could get a reservation for—” There was some murmuring on her end. “—for eight at Samurai Sizzle tomorrow night? It’s Ethan’s birthday and I kind of promised him samurai fruit salad.” “Oh.” Ethan. Blake Miller’s kid. Why did she have to take him in, anyway? After what Miller did? If it wasn’t for me, he would have killed
“Why don’t you sit down at your desk?” Kurt said. “You’re back at work today, right?” He smiled with a casual charm that drew me in despite my doubts. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “Just until school lets out,” I said. “Then I need to pick up the children.”“Well then,” he said. He pulled out my desk chair for me and gestured towards it. I sat down and put my purse in the bottom drawer where it lived while I was at work. I put my hands on my desktop and smiled. I was back.Kurt picked up a tablet from his desk. “Okay. So, I’ve been looking over the rehabilitation metrics for the older children,” he said. “We’re losing a lot of them between the ages of sixteen and eighteen. They feel like they don’t have a bridge, a way into a productive life.”I nodded, impressed. “Yes, it’s called the ‘cliff effect.’ Once they age out their benefits, the world expects them to just… be okay.”“Exactly.” Kurt nodded. “I was thinking—and tell me if this is too corporate—what if Steps to Freedo
The drive to the Steps to Freedom office was pleasant and scenic, and I usually enjoyed it. Today I didn’t even see the river peeking through the trees or the sunlight glinting off the leaves. I was visiting the office for the first time since I’d slunk off in disgrace. Of course, they hadn’t put it like that. “Just be discreet,” Phillip had said. “Only for a few weeks until the heat wears off.”Well, it had been two weeks, enough time for everyone at the office to realize that they were better off without me. I’d gotten all of them audited by the IRS, reason enough to hate me, even if they didn’t already. I pulled into my designated parking place—still marked Founder and Executive Director—and stared at the door. I was only here for the quarterly statements and the case notes on the Provo transition. I’d be in and out in ten minutes. Maybe they wouldn’t notice me at all. Yeah, right. I took several deep breaths and did a grounding exercise a therapist had taught me once. He’d bee
Derek’s hand shot out and caught my arm. “Claire, wait.” His grip wasn’t tight enough to hurt, but it stopped me in my tracks. I glared at him. His face was tense, jaw tight, brow furrowed as if asking for… understanding? He let me go and stepped back, hands raised. “Please. Just hear me out.” I
I watched Derek leave, my smile fixed in place. On the surface it looked like my usual cheery grin, but underneath my stomach was tying itself into knots. He’d left me! He didn’t give a reason, didn’t say where he was going or what he was doing, just walked away without a backward glance. “Hey Sa
Of course, things didn’t work out like that.The time came and went. No dress. I had my makeup done, my hair styled, and my shoes set out by the door. All my calls to the boutique went straight to voicemail. I checked my phone. No new text messages.“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, tryi
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until after I’d slammed the door shut. The aftershocks seemed to vibrate through my apartment, and through my body, too. My lips still tingled from Derek’s kiss. His passionate, desperate kiss that I definitely did not ask for and certainly didn’t want.“Are







