Game On

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. While some locations and places are real, liberties have been taken for the purposes of the story and should not be taken as factual. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Miss Indecisive. Copyright © 2023 by Elise Eliot. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. FIRST EDITION. To learn more about Elise Eliot, please visit her website at www.eliseeliot.com. For A. You are a badass. contents Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33Chapter 34EpilogueAbout the Author 1 “I’m sorry, Millie, but we’re going to have to let you go,” she said, her eyes a combination of her fierce professionalism and empathy for my situation. “Wow, okay, wow,” I said, taking a deep breath and blinking back tears, “Is this from what happened on the Mansini account? That was my mistake. I’ll call them and take full responsibility.” “That was a huge blow to the brokerage,” she nodded and my heart sank. “Losing that partnership absolutely impacted our bottom line. But, that combined with the real estate market in Sacramento slowing down has required us to downsize,” she continued. “We have to adjust the team accordingly.” Gulp. Debbie always served the truth nice and cold. You didn’t get to where she was at in her career without being willing to say tough things directly. “I get it,” I said. “What happens now?” “Well, we’re going to give you a one-month severance package, and then you’re welcome to file for unemployment to hold you over until you find something new. I do hope you find something quickly and, despite our differences at times, please don’t hesitate to use me as a reference.” I hate you, you’re the worst, I thought. “Thank you, that’s so nice of you.” My mind was reeling. One month of severance. One month before a severe pay cut while collecting unemployment. I immediately started thinking about what I could cut to minimize my monthly expenses, but it was a short list. As a single mom with two kids, I was already living paycheck to paycheck. “Since it’s the end of the day on Friday, go ahead and pack up your things. Rebecca will be in shortly with your final check.” I heard a soft knock on the door behind me and Debbie stood up before adding, “Thank you for your hard work. I know you’ll land on your feet.” “I sure hope so,” I said, but I feel like I’m drowning. A couple tears slipped through, despite my best efforts to hold them back. She pointed to the tissue box as she left the office. Rebecca came in with the final paperwork. It went quickly, and I was back to my desk to clean up my very few personal items. Once I was in my car, I drove down the street and parked where no one could see me. I sobbed thinking of my two kids and the stack of bills with my name on it. I was still in debt from my divorce and now this. “I can do this, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this,” I repeated to myself, while I unlocked my phone and started looking for jobs. I could barely read the screen through my tears, though, and chucked my phone into the passenger seat in frustration. I aggressively dried the last of my tears and sat up straight to get myself together. “Suck it up,” I said. “You’ve gotta figure this out.” Truth be told, I hated working for Debbie, but I was too afraid to quit. A good paying job is better than no job. As a single mom with a limited resume, I was counting my blessings instead of complaining, but now that she had let me go, maybe there was a silver lining in there somewhere. I knew exactly who could help me find it. I shot a quick text to my best friend, Paige, letting her know I was stopping by on my way to get the kids. I was only a few minutes away from her place, though, so when I got there, she threw open the door in surprise, “Hey!” When I took off my sunglasses and she saw my puffy eyes, her demeanor softened, “Oh no, come in,” she said, ushering me inside, where her demon dog started jumping up against my leg. “I swear he’s an angel until you come over,” she said, while luring him outside with treats and closing the back door to give us some peace. “I believe it,” I said, even though I didn’t. There was really something wrong with that dog. “So, I’m guessing you’re not just here because I make great coffee,” she said, glancing at the coffee I was holding. I took a seat on a bar stool at the kitchen bar, took a deep breath, and just shoved the words out of my mouth, “I got fired again.” “Crap,” she said, her shoulders sinking. “She gave me a month’s pay, said I can get unemployment, and offered to be a reference for me.” “How generous of her,” she said, deadpan. “What am I going to do now?” I asked, holding back the flood. Paige wasn’t as emotional as me, so I usually tried not to sob like a baby in front of her. “Well, what are your options?” she asked. “I’m tired of real estate.” I dropped my head in