Romance: Her Fighter by Penny Ward Page A

Something else was going on. It was just a matter of finding out what and figuring out how to handle the issues that revolved around it.
    “Come in,” Don said, making me realize I had lifted my hand and knocked.
    I opened the door and stepped inside. “You wanted to see me, Don.”
    “Yes, Claire. Come in and have a seat.” Don shifted in his chair as he waited for me to sit across from him in one of the two free chairs.
    He pressed his hands together and pressed them against his mouth, as if he was contemplating what he was going to say and studying me with the same mixture of worry and sorrow he’d had earlier.
    A knot formed in my stomach and I wondered what was about to occur.
    He lowered his hands and his eyes at the same time.
    “Claire, the company’s not doing so well. As you know, we’ve been losing clients lately, a lot of the larger-named clients who bring in the most business.”
    I nodded, silent.
    I had noticed such occurrences, but I had thought it to be just a slow season.
    “The truth is we’re going bankrupt because of it, and as a result we’re having to cut our staff.”
    My eyes widened as it dawned on me why I was sitting in Don’s office.
    I was being let go.
    Damn.
    “But…” I started to say, about to plead that it was my birthday.
    “I’m sorry, Claire.” He honestly seemed apologetic, but I couldn’t tell if it was an act because he wanted to avoid a scene or if he was honestly sincere. In the end, it didn’t matter.
    I hung my head. There was nothing that could be said.
    It was done.
    Damn.
    I somehow found the strength to find my feet and shuffled out of his office.
    There wasn’t much in my cubicle.
    Even though I’d worked there Monday through Friday for the past five years, I’d never stored many personal items there. There was one picture frame that held an image of my whole family—before Mom and Dad’s divorce—and another of me with Michael, my boyfriend of two years. There were notes and lip balms I’d shoved in the desk as well, but in the end, everything I’d ever brought to the office fit in my purse.
    It took all of my strength not to break down into tears as I cleaned out my desk, but I managed it. The whole time, I wondered what I’d done to deserve this, and what I was going to do about a job in the meantime.
    The truth was, I’d gotten hired here while I was still in college and had no idea where else I might submit my resume.
    The idea of job searching was foreign to me, but I knew I needed to get on that as soon as possible. Walking out the front door, I drew a deep breath and hailed a taxi.
    After giving the driver my apartment address, I pulled out my phone and scanned through the messages left for me while I’d been at work.
    There was a missed call from Michael and a voicemail, as well as three texts from Kate.
    I responded to the texts first, asking Kate where she wanted to meet and when, letting her know that I had some bad news when she and I saw one another.
    My phone buzzed before I had a chance to listen to the voicemail on my phone.
    Kate wanted to know what was going on. I told her it was something I wanted to discuss with her in person, not through text. If she sent a reply, I missed it as I dialed my voicemail and listened to the message that had been left for me.
    “Please give me some good news, Michael,” I whispered to myself as the taxi driver pulled up in front of my apartment complex.
    I paid my fee and climbed out just as his voice sounded in my ear.
    A wave of calm washed through me upon hearing his voice, but it was soon wiped away upon hearing what he had to say.
    “Claire, when you get this message, call me as soon as you can. We need to talk. I’ll see you at your apartment around five-thirty if I haven’t heard anything from you by then.”
    There was no goodbye, no “I love you.”
    A feeling of dread enveloped me.
    What was going on?
    I glanced down at my watch and saw it was a little past five-thirty