Author's Note: This is a slow burn romance. There is a good amount of heat, but it's not until about midway through the story. When it comes to the dialogue, you'll see a lot of words that are deliberately misspelled and some speech that isn't grammatically correct. This is my way of representing the regional dialect of the main character's hometown in southwestern Pennsylvania. Enjoy!
*****
"I'll have a venti skinny caramel macchiato with one pump of hazelnut, double whip and drizzled with chocolate. Can you make that sugar free? Actually, make that two!"
Jake Wittier couldn't help but sigh as he heard the order. The man who placed it, about three people ahead of him in line, seemed to not care that the line was already out the door at the coffee shop. He just wanted a large coffee, but he knew with this line full of people wanting extravagant orders, he was going to have to wait a long time just to get to the counter.
Honestly, he was used to it. When you lived in New York, it was an undeniable fact that anywhere you went was going to be full of people. There was no such thing as personal space in the Big Apple, a fact that became harder to accept as time went on.
Jake only reached the counter ten minutes later, long after Mr. Fancy had received his venti macchiato or whatever it was. But the delay in time meant that he walked into his job about two minutes after his supposed start time.
"Jake, you're late," said his boss, Jerry Levenstein, a cutthroat older guy who dreamt in dollar signs.
Jake held up his coffee. "Line was too long," he said as he slid behind his desk. "Won't happen again, Jerry."
"It better not," barked Jerry before turning back to his work.
Jake let out a sigh of defeat as he fired up his computer. He'd only been working for Jerry for three weeks now, and it had already been about three weeks too long. Jerry was a new addition for their department, a finance hawk who outmaneuvered Jake's old boss and got him canned for not being a team player (whatever that means). It meant a complete degradation of Jake's work-life balance, and his vicious new boss took delight in working his subordinates to the bone.
He shouldn't have been surprised by that. At the big shot law firm that he worked at, it was only the administrative staff that ended up leaving at five. Just last night, Jake didn't leave the place until close to ten. Productivity at the firm was at an all-time high while morale was plunging to an incomparable low.
Especially Jake's.
It hadn't always been like this, but he felt it more now than ever. It was the third job he'd taken since graduating from school four years ago, and all of them felt almost identical. Power-hungry bosses, browbeaten colleagues, and a slowly increasing amount of work for a substandard salary meant that Jake was thoroughly disillusioned with his career path. Part of him wished for simpler days, like those from before he moved to New York.
About midway through the day, his phone buzzed with a new alert, and Jake sighed once more when he saw the post. It was from his ex-girlfriend, Renee, who just dumped him two weeks prior because she wanted to pursue a career as an Instagram model. Jake wasn't even sure how that all worked, yet there seemed to be something mutually exclusive about being in a relationship and pursuing her new online career. Renee's post was a suggestive piece that coupled her wearing as little as possible with reclining in the backseat of a luxury car. Jake had no idea whose car it was, and at this point, he didn't care. He simply unfollowed her and went about his life, wanting that part of it to be firmly put in the past.
After another long day in which he was able to clock out early and go home at eight-thirty, Jake returned to his shoebox apartment after a crowded ride on the subway in which he was almost literally nose-to-armpit with someone who didn't wear enough deodorant. This evening, the couple next door to him was already arguing, the sound of which easily passed through the thin walls. Being that he had to be up early tomorrow, Jake fell into bed and stared at the ceiling.
There has to be more to life than this.
It was a thought that was on his mind almost too often lately. Even though it was the end of spring, Jake's mind was still in the doldrums of winter. Every day looked the same in the concrete jungle. And even though some people seemed to thrive in the madness, he felt like it was killing off part of his soul.
It hadn't always been this way. When he initially came to the city eight years ago to start college, he'd been bright-eyed and optimistic about the promise of the bright lights. It was the complete opposite of the way he spent the first eighteen years of his life—stuck in a one stoplight town and working his summers at a local farm. His teenage self thought there was something to be said for getting out of the small town and making something of himself in the big city, but the more time he spent here, the less that promise held true.
In the deepest recesses of his mind, he could admit to himself that he wanted to go home, to go back to his roots. He wanted to see the green pastures again and enjoy the local county fairs. It was becoming increasing obvious that his heart had never left that old little town.
I guess that saying is really true. You can't take the country out of the boy
, he thought to himself before drifting asleep.
Although he had no way of knowing it beforehand, the next day he stepped into the law firm for the last time. There had been a disturbing trend since Jerry had taken over as his boss, one that bothered his own honest sensibilities. Jerry liked to cut corners and fudge numbers, almost to the point where the credibility of the finance department was in jeopardy with their colleagues. They'd been called out for it just last week with the CFO, and Jake knew there was more scrutiny on them now than ever before.
That was why when Jerry approached him about including deliberately false information in a report, Jake hit his breaking point.
"What do you mean you won't do it?" snapped Jerry, putting his hands on his hips.
"You know those numbers are bullshit," replied Jake. "I'm not putting them in."
"Why is it that no one in this department knows how to be a team player?"
Jake rolled his eyes. "We're not team players because we won't lie on these reports for you?"
"Watch it, Jake. You're on thin ice right now," retorted Jerry while raising his eyebrow.
Jake finally snapped. It was one bridge too far, the result of one too many times of being disrespected. By itself, the interaction wouldn't have been too bad, but when compiled with all the others over the last three weeks, he finally had what he'd been so secretly been seeking.
His way out.
"I'm done," said Jake, making a grab for his personal things. "Fudge the numbers yourself, but I'm out. I quit."
Jerry gave him a shocked expression, not knowing what to say for several seconds. So did several of Jake's colleagues, most of whom had stopped working just to watch the tense interaction.
Jerry finally recovered his acidity. "Good, good. This is for the best. I can't have anyone here who doesn't know how business really works."
Jake didn't even dignify that with a response. Instead, he quietly gathered his things and left out the main door, but not before throwing his ID badge in the trash.
That afternoon, Jake did a serious bout of soul-searching. The most logical answer to his predicament was to start a job search. He was sure with his degree and experience, he could land another job.
