Read Online The Dating Intervention: Book 1 in the Intervention Series by Hilary Dartt - Free Book Online

 
    Now, she’d been out of vet school for a couple of years (okay, more than a couple) and she was still at Rowdy’s, while meanwhile, her Doctor of Veterinary Medicine degree gathered dust on the wall of her home office. Not that she minded. Not really.  
    Honesty, Delaney.  
    Okay, she did mind.  
    What kind of a loser spends tens of thousands of dollars on vet school and then ends up working at a bar, perpetually single, for the rest of her thirties?
    Exhausted after reliving what was inarguably the most miserable time of her life, through this new lens of honesty, Delaney got out of the shower and dried off. Pixie, recovered from her shock at the sound of the alarm, wandered casually into the bathroom and perched on the edge of the bathtub. She batted at the drops coming out of the faucet, then licked the moisture off her paw.  
    Delaney’s inner debate lasted no more than half a second: instead of slipping into the suit, she pulled on some sweat pants. She didn’t need to wear a suit to research online. In fact, she thought, she didn’t need this stupid suit at all. It was ugly when she bought it, with its pleats and big plastic buttons. And it was ugly now – and out of style, more than likely. She yanked the suit down, balled it up and carried it over to the trashcan, which she slammed shut on top of it.  
    “There,” she said to the cat. “That’s better.”  
    A few minutes later, coffee poured and a bagel toasted, she sat down at the computer to search local job listings. The job hunt had changed significantly in the past ten years. She really could research and apply without leaving her house. Which meant everyone else could, too. How on Earth was she supposed to stand out from anybody on these cattle calls?
    Pixie jumped onto Delaney’s lap and curled up. For a few moments, Delaney browsed the job listings in and around Juniper. Veterinary assistant, landscaper, laboratory technician … then she realized the search was premature, since she couldn’t apply to any of them without a resume. Fortunately, the website had tons of resources dedicated to helping her create one.  
    Instead of listing your jobs and education, list your accomplishments, one page suggested. For example, ‘Landed a $400,000 marketing contract,’ or ‘Completed a $100,000 project under budget.’  
    “Ha!” Delaney said to the computer. “Mixed four hundred thousand drinks in one night after the annual rodeo dance.”  
    She picked up the phone. This wasn’t looking good, but Summer would know what to do.  
    “You’re never up this early,” Summer said when she finally answered. “Everything okay?” Before Delaney could respond, Summer yelled, “Luke! Put that sword down and get a shirt on! Then find some clean underwear.” She spoke into the phone again. “Sorry. Getting ready to go to the Farmer’s Market.”
    “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have bothered you this early. Want to call me back?”  
    “I’ll call you back after I load the kids in the car, but is everything okay?”  
    “Yeah. It’s just this job hunt thing. It’s lame.”  
    “You’re sitting on the computer right now, aren’t you? Hold on.” Again, she spoke loudly, away from the phone: “Sarah. You have three minutes to finish your hair.” She returned. “Sorry. Every morning, D. She’s not even a pre-teen yet and she has to style her hair every single morning. No ponytails for this girl.”  
    “Is she too old for a sticker chart?” Delaney asked.
    “Ha. Yes. Was I like that?”  
    “No. You are a free spirit,” Delaney said. “I can’t remember a time when your style was anything other than long, beautiful blond hair parted down the middle. Or the famous ponytail.”  
    “Anyway, sorry,” Summer said. “You need to put on something professional and go pound the pavement. Go to some places, ask if they’re hiring, pick up an application.”
    “If they were hiring, wouldn’t they post it on this website?”