Terrible Advice From a Career Temp- Chapter Six: You Will Experience Every Form of Humiliation

Piper held the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she stirred boxed macaroni, only half-listening until she heard Hawk’s voice say something obviously rehearsed. “You Googled me,” she said immediately. There was a beat of silence from his end of the line. “Who? Me? No. I just… happened to come across an old news clip of you online.”

“Mhm,” Piper smirked. “So how’s the old T-shirt factory treating you?” Hawk asked before interrupting himself to say, “Well, I—wait, wasn’t there a storm or something?”

“There was,” she said. “It blew the roof off. The company died. Workers like me moved on. You know. Classic American manufacturing story.” She could almost hear him nodding solemnly.

It had been nearly three years since she last saw him. Three years since she’d left his apartment in Hawaii before dawn, certain that whatever spark existed had already fizzled. Three years of student loans from trade school certifications that never paid off, stress, working every fast food job for any hours at all, and surviving off sheer stubbornness. Sofie and Benny-Boy had another baby during that time—Smol and the newer one everyone jokingly called "Mini-Smöl." But Hawk? She hadn’t expected him to call. “I thought you’d be married with a couple of kids by now,” she teased.

Hawk let out the kind of strained laugh a man makes when confronted with his own unmet expectations. “Not me. I’m out of the Marines. One enlistment was enough.”

That surprised her. He’d always looked like a career lifer. Piper pressed, “So what’s next?” Hawk caved, “I opened a construction logistics consultation business.” That string of words could mean absolutely anything—from corporate contracts to working from a folding table in a friend’s garage. Piper offered a diplomatic, “Good for you.” Shifting back to focus on her, “And you?” he asked. “Oh, you know. Evil paper pusher to keep the lights on type of stuff.” Piper glossed over all she was doing so easily. “Respectable,” he said, chuckling. There was a pause, the kind that carried weight and intention. “I hated how we left off,” Hawk admitted at last. “I wondered if we could… try again.”

Piper stared at her peeling apartment wall. Her quasi-boyfriend/ roommate had recently moved out and across the country, leaving her with all the bills. Her bank account was a horror film. Her only consistent companionship came from two special-needs cats she was allergic to that her now ex had left behind. So when Hawk said, “Let’s take a trip. My treat,” her survival instincts lost the fight to her financial desperation. “Deal,” she said. The San Antonio trip came together quickly. She wanted the location because she had an interview for a corporate position headquartered there. This trip could be a stepping stone. A pivot. A lifeline. Before leaving, she dropped Ditto and Flip off at her mother’s.

“I cannot believe you kept these cats,” Dena said, taking the carriers. “You’re literally allergic,” the cats hissed as the carrier exchanged hands. “I know,” Piper sighed. “But someone had to keep them alive since what's-his-face bailed.” Inside, Sofie juggled Smol on her hip while the toddler ate breakfast like a cheerful gremlin. “So why are you seeing Hawk?” Sofie asked. “Are you two back together?” Sneering at the very thought, “No,” Piper said. “I’m using the trip to interview for a corporate job.” Dena frowned. “I thought you liked Hawk.” The room went silent as that question was out in the air for a moment. “I don’t dislike him,” Piper said. “I just don’t know him anymore. If I ever did.” Sofie pointed dramatically. “Exactly.”

Dena crossed her arms. “I cannot believe my girls are so opposite. One refuses to even like a man, and the other keeps having one’s babies.” Piper froze. “Wait—Sofie, are you pregnant again?” Sofie shushed her quickly. “I haven’t told their d-a-d yet.” Piper rolled her eyes. Of course, it had been during the anniversary weekend she babysat for them. “You two should get married already,” Dena scolded. “Not when I’m pregnant,” Sofie protested. “You’re always pregnant,” Piper and Dena said in unison. Sofie shrugged. “True. But my babies are adorable.” Smol hugged her mother, and everyone melted.

San Antonio greeted Piper with warm air and the faint smell of river water. Hawk arrived an hour later, stepping out of a cab and waving at her. He looked… different. Softer. Rounder. His once-sharp jawline was hiding behind fuller cheeks. A modest pot belly pushing against his shirt. A newly visible bald spot glinted under the Texas sun like a misplaced coin. Piper hugged him politely, lightly, without spark. Hawk tried to squeeze her as hard as he could, but it only annoyed Piper.

That night, they wandered the River Walk. Piper ordered one glass of wine—she had her interview in the morning. Hawk, however, drank like it was both a holiday and a coping mechanism, hopping from bar to bar while he dragged her along. “You’re not fun anymore,” he slurred. “Guess not,” Piper replied out loud, as she thought to herself, “I just developed impulse control.”

The next morning, while Hawk snored like a malfunctioning leaf blower, Piper took an Uber to her interview. She crushed it. Within hours, the hiring manager emailed her directly: “We’d like to offer you a remote corporate position.” Piper read through the terms. It was remote, corporate, with a salary large enough to actually breathe. Best of all, they were going to put her through college to get her bachelor's degree as long as she interned for them each summer. It was the break she was hoping for.

Her first instinct was to shout with joy, cry, call her family, and maybe even adopt healthier habits. Instead, she tucked her phone away and walked quietly into the hotel room so as not to awaken the hungover Hawk. When she came in, though, Hawk sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “You okay?” he asked softly. “Don’t beat yourself up if it didn’t go well.” Piper was surprised he said that. She had been over the moon, and just like that, she felt like Hawk had let her know he had no confidence in her. She suddenly felt like telling him she had done well would have led to more friction than there already was. She decided to keep it to herself that she had gotten the job.

Hawk was down on his luck. Piper felt that if she had told him, it could also be like rubbing it in his face that she was moving up in the world while he was in a downward spiral. The assumption that they were struggling together seemed to reassure Hawk. She closed her mouth. “Yeah,” she said. “It was… a lot.” Hawk smiled and went back to sleep again. That night, he insisted they go somewhere “nice.” Hawk wasted the day away in the hotel room watching old movies in his underwear, while Piper went to a salon and then took a trip to the park by herself to see the city. She enjoyed her time out without Hawk cramping her style.

That evening, they ended up in a dimly lit restaurant where waiters poured her a mixed drink by doing cocktail tricks back and forth. Piper thought it was very posh and fun. Hawk embarrassed them both, making rude comments about the inessentiality of the affair. It made Piper shut down for fear he would continue in such a poor manner.

Hawk must have noticed because, halfway through dinner, something shifted in his expression. “I could tell from your face earlier that you didn't get the job today.” He said, voice cracking, “It's okay, you know? I regret leaving the Marines.” Piper looked down as he went on, wishing he would stop, “I only got out because of the DUI,” he said. “They wouldn’t let me reenlist. But it's their loss.” She blinked. Oh. Oh no, she thought as Hawk took a deep breath, pointing at her. “And when you left me in Hawaii,” he continued, breaking, “ and I knew, I couldn't even get a mid chick to stay who I picked up at a gas station. A gas station.” He said to emphasize his disdain for Piper in the moment. She could see that his pity party was quickly turning into a long-winded insult directed at her.

Piper put aside her baked Alaska when his face contorted. “No,” Piper whispered to herself. And then it happened. Hawk cried, muffling his anguish with his own dinner napkin. Very loudly, blowing his nose on his collared shirt, messily leaving wet spots with gross bits on it. Piper was mortified as people stared. A waiter froze mid-step from refilling their water glasses. A child across the room whispered, “Mom, why is she hurting that man?” Piper's night was officially ruined. Hawk was drunk again. “We’re both losers, babe!” Hawk sobbed, voice carrying across the restaurant. “Look at us! We’re a wreck!” Piper, trapped between social expectations and survival instincts, patted his shoulder like he was a malfunctioning appliance. “Sure,” she said gently.

Hawk was making such a scene that Piper paid the bill just to get out of there. They walked back to the hotel in profound silence. Hawk made a pass at her, but Piper rejected him. She opted to sleep on the recliner in their room while Hawk snored away in his drunken state for a second night. The next morning, Piper was relieved that it was their last day together. Check out was at eleven AM. Piper was in a cab at nine sharp. Hawk said he was staying on an extra day to see the town. Piper said everything she needed for her goodbye to him, which wasn't much. All the way to the airport, she couldn't stop thinking about how much Hawk had fallen from grace. Piper returned to Dena and Sofie’s, feeling older and younger at the same time.

Her cats greeted her with their signature enthusiasm, rubbing their fur all over her and immediately activating her allergies, thus reminding Piper why she hated her ex once more. Dena handed her the carriers as Piper put treats in them to lure the cats back in for the trip to their apartment once more. “Well,” Dena announced, “We've gotta move to a bigger place. Somewhere with at least two bathrooms.”

“And closer to the good daycare,” Sofie added. Piper hesitated—and smiled. “I’ll move in with you. If you want.” Sofie lit up. “Actually, Benny knows someone renting out a house. It's a Rent-to-own thing. It has three bedrooms and a large yard. We could all do it together.”

A real house. A fresh start. Piper nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Later that night, after she showered and fed the cats, Piper’s phone buzzed. The screen showed the caller ID of "Aspis Hawkins." She stared at the screen for a moment before answering. “Hey,” his voice said brightly, too brightly, as if the restaurant meltdown had never happened. “I just wanted to say you’re a really great friend, Piper. A real one.” Piper wanted to let him down gently, but waited for the chance. “Oh,” she said. “Okay.”

“And guess what?” he continued. “I’ve decided—I’m moving to your area. To expand my business. This feels like the right move. I think… I think this is fate.”

Piper’s soul left her body, floated toward the ceiling, and tried to hurl itself into the nearest light fixture. “Oh,” she whispered, voice thin with horror. “Wow. That’s… something.”

“Yeah!” Hawk said, energized. “We’ll be able to hang out all the time. Isn’t that great?” Piper forced a smile he couldn’t see. “Right. Great.”

After she hung up, she stared at the ceiling, stunned. Her new job. Her new house plans. Her new life. And now this? Piper lay back on the bed, her cats curling at her knees. “Absolutely not,” she whispered to herself. Then picked up her phone and called Hawk back. Before he could say anything at all, Piper shouted, "It's a no! I'm over it. We're done! Don't you dare come out here. There's not enough space in the world to put between us...And how dare you call me 'mid'!" Then she hung up and blocked him for good. And that was the moment she knew: A new chapter was coming. And Hawk would not—under any circumstances—be part of it.