No Experience Required Read online

  Izzy Treadway has a reputation as a love guru. She knows exactly what ignites the spark for others, but she has no desire to find love herself. You see, Izzy’s bipolar and not only fears being seen as damaged goods but is terrified that if anything goes wrong, it might just send her back to the hospital. Nevertheless, her best friend decides Izzy’s the perfect person to write The Idiot’s Guide to Love.

  While researching and writing the book, Izzy finds herself falling for Jane Mendoza, the new intern at work. Everything’s perfect until Izzy tells her she’s bipolar and Jane leaves her, claiming the dreaded “It’s not you, it’s me.”

  Izzy’s devastated, but heartbreak teaches her she’s stronger than she gives herself credit for. As Izzy and Jane learn their pasts don’t define their future, they’ll need to get out of their own way to discover love can overcome any obstacle.

  No Experience Required

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  No Experience Required

  © 2019 By Kimberly Cooper Griffin. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-560-8

  This Electronic Original Is Published By

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: October 2019

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editors: Barbara Ann Wright and Shelley Thrasher

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design By Tammy Seidick

  Acknowledgments

  No Experience Required was written as a project during my year in the GCLS Writing Academy. I can’t say enough good things about the WA. Writing Academy Director Beth Burnett is amazing and has curated a world-class curriculum for writers of any genre. I encourage any writer, new or experienced, to enroll in this fabulous arm of the GCLS. It will help you with the basics and provide guidance on advanced technique, but it is really the people you meet, the relationships you forge, and the breadth of experience that is shared during each of the classes that are the real magic of the WA.

  During my time in the WA, I was provided with one of the most amazing gifts when I was mentored up with Radclyffe. There are not enough words to express how grateful I am for the opportunity to work with her. If not for her generosity of dedication and time to the WA as an instructor and mentor, this book would probably not have been written. Thank you so much for everything, Radclyffe.

  Sandy, Barbara, and Shelley—thank you for your insight and wisdom. You grew my little story into a real book. You’ve also made me absolutely happy for choosing Bold Strokes Books. People are right on when they say working at Bold Strokes is more like entering a family than a new job.

  Michelle Dunkley, my beloved friend and faithful beta reader, writing wouldn’t be so much fun without your enthusiasm and support.

  And finally, people aren’t bipolar, they have an illness called Bipolar Disorder. When we stop characterizing people by their illnesses, we lessen the stigma and allow for healing.

  To learn more about Bipolar Disorder, please visit the National Institute of Mental Health’s page at https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/bipolar-disorder/index.shtml.

  No Experience Required is dedicated to my daughter, Cassidy, who has shown me more about strength than anyone else in my life, and to my wife, Summer, who is always strong when I can’t be.

  Chapter One

  Cliff, the Gigify security guard, looked sharp standing next to the lobby desk in his freshly pressed uniform. The tired frown he’d been sporting for the last couple of months was gone, and he’d been watching for Izzy all morning to talk about it. He called out to her as she exited the elevator.

  “Hey, Izzy, the gift certificate to the spa was perfect. My wife hasn’t been so relaxed since before the kids were born.”

  Izzy was on her way to lunch but stopped to chat. “Was she surprised?”

  “Heck, yeah. She thought she had forgotten our anniversary or something.” Cliff chuckled.

  Izzy narrowed her eyes. “What did you say when you gave it to her?”

  “Don’t worry. I took your advice.” He hitched up his holster. Gigify took security for the high-tech campus seriously. “I didn’t tell her she looked tired as hell or mention I was sick of her nagging me all the time. Instead, I just told her I appreciated all the stuff she does for the family, and I thought she might want to take a mini vacation.”

  Izzy raked her hands through her short blond hair and nodded her approval. “People like to feel appreciated.”

  “Well, thanks to you, I’m not sleeping on the couch anymore. It worked like magic. She’s back to her old self now. I owe you one.” He pointed his finger like a gun and clicked his tongue.

  Izzy drummed her hands on the marble counter and backed toward the doors. “Remember those words when I forget my badge next time.”

  He winked. “Even if you do forget it three times in one week. Again.”

  “Hey! I told you, being forgetful goes hand in hand with brilliance. I read that in Psychology Today!” Izzy laughed.

  One more floundering relationship fixed. Her friends didn’t call her The Love Doctor for nothing. She always had the right advice at the right time, at least for everyone else. Not so much for herself. But it didn’t matter. Love was for other people. She had enough issues to deal with without adding that sort of risk and complication to her carefully structured life. In the meantime, she silently patted herself on the back for helping Cliff see beyond his own Neanderthal nose for once. Maybe helping others with their love lives was her real calling in life. She could live vicariously through them.

  She pushed open the glass doors of the building and stepped outside. California sunshine glinted off the glass façade of the four identical five-story buildings situated around the outdoor quad of the Silicon Valley tech company. Developers, program managers, and corporate honchos in their super-expensive jeans and ironic silk-screened tees moved along pathways among perfectly landscaped greenery and serene water features. Picnic tables and patio furniture, shaded by brightly colored canvas awnings, dotted the area. Subtle strips of rubber with texture designed to cause suction when pressure was applied were installed around the perimeter of the water features to prevent people distracted by handhelds from walking into them. The campus was home to Gigify, San Jose’s largest online recruitment-software development firm, where Izzy worked as senior manager of the technical documentation team.

  Izzy crossed the campus and waved her employee card in front of the card reader to the creatively named North Building, entered her PIN number, looked up at the facial-recognition reader, and pressed her thumb on the fingerprint reader. “Only one shall pass, Isadora P. Treadway,” intoned a deep voice as the glass door clicked, and she pulled it open to enter the building. The approval phrase had been a fun novelty the first few times, but it got old very quickly.

  Four or five people waited for their turn to perform the same sequence of events to gain entry to the Gigify commissary. It was noon straight up, and the tech masses were descending upon the sprawling space for nourishment and socialization. Indi
e rock strummed quietly in the background, and large television monitors played various cable programs throughout the room. She walked across the main dining room while tables started to fill with her colleagues. Thousands worked on campus, and she didn’t know everyone, but many faces were familiar. She greeted several people as she passed, stopped to talk briefly with the senior director of the application performance team, and confirmed a meeting with one of the marketing managers before she made it to the café, where a cacophony of smells inundated her.

  Izzy’s stomach growled in response, and she paused near the mochi ice cream freezer, trying to choose what to have for lunch. Diversity and inclusion were primary objectives at Gigify. The International Café offered the usual grill fare, a huge salad bar, and varied entrees, with cultural delicacies from half a dozen countries. As if testing the resolve of dieters and healthy diners, there was even a wood-fired stove where one could get their own personal-sized pizza.

  She was leaning toward the pizza when a familiar voice sang out behind her. “Hey, hey, hey!”

  A tall, gorgeous Latino man strolled up to stand beside her.

  Izzy shoulder-bumped him. “Hey, Hector! How are you?”

  Hector grinned his million-dollar smile. “You know me. I’m chillin’ like a villain. Are you having mochi for lunch again?”

  She scowled. “I only did that one time, and I’ve never heard the end of it. It was a bad day.”

  Hector raised an eyebrow in clear disbelief, but Izzy didn’t care. He didn’t have room to judge. She had beat his time at the last San Francisco Rock ’n’ Roll half marathon by over thirty minutes, and she was a slow runner. Even if she did have mochi for lunch, she could do it without remorse.

  Hector was fifteen years younger than Izzy, but she loved him like a brother. Everyone, including her, warmed to Hector’s handsome smile and stylish look. He always appeared put together, even after working an eighteen-hour day, which he often did. On more than one occasion they’d walked to the parking garage after a long day, he with the barest hint of a five o’clock shadow and his sleeves rolled up, she with her hair standing at various angles of attention and her clothes rumpled as if maybe she’d slept in them—and maybe she had, since she sometimes took a power nap on the couch near the foosball machine in the purple breakroom.

  She and Hector had started at Gigify on the same day seven years earlier and had bonded during new-hire training. Although they didn’t work in the same department—Hector was a platform developer—they worked on the same floor and often sought each other out when they happened to be near one or the other’s desks. Once in a while, they had lunch together when they happened to run into each other in the commissary.

  Izzy followed Hector, still unsure what she wanted to eat. When Hector stopped between the grill and the counter where a dozen prepared pizzas waited to be claimed, Izzy made her decision.

  “Are you ordering to go? Or do you want to join me?” Izzy selected a tasty-looking margherita pizza.

  Hector eyed her warily. “I’m craving a hamburger today. Will you be regaling me with all the details from the latest anti-meat book you’ve read? I seriously don’t need to get grossed out and not be able to finish my lunch again. It’ll force me to graze the bulk snack wall in the breakroom later. I’m doing my best to cut back on the Peanut M&M’s right now.”

  “I’m off the vegetarianism.” She picked a tomato from her pizza and popped it into her mouth.

  He gave his order to the woman dressed in white behind the grill. “What? I thought you were locked in.”

  “I was.” She shrugged. “And then St. Patrick’s Day happened.”

  “Don’t tell me. You caved to the corned beef?”

  She grimaced. “Yep.”

  He made a face. “Seriously? That’s a pretty huge jump. I mean, boiled meat is pretty much the bottom of the meat chain.”

  This was coming from a guy who liked menudo! She knew better than to go there. “No. Haggis is. Trust me. My grandmother may be from Ireland, but my grandfather is from Scotland.”

  She shivered, pushing the childhood memory of a Sunday dinner of haggis and neeps at her grandparents’ house from her mind. Neeps. Double shiver.

  “I’ll trust you.” Hector laughed. “Let’s hold that thought. I’ve been thinking about this cheeseburger all morning and don’t want to ruin it with carnivore guilt. As far as I’m concerned, this cheeseburger was created as is, delicious and complete with lettuce, cheese, tomato, secret sauce, and a soft, fluffy bun. It’s always existed like this, and it’ll make my stomach so happy.”

  They paid for the meals via a chip in their employee badges as they walked from the café and into the dining area. Lucky for them, they snagged a table vacated by a group of systems engineers discussing the finer points of their ongoing game of D&D.

  Seated, Izzy took a bite of her pizza, expecting bitter disappointment considering Hector’s look of ecstasy when he bit into his cheeseburger. She’d never enjoyed food in any form as much as Hector enjoyed his cheeseburger. Instead, she was pleasantly pleased. She finished the first piece in four bites and picked up her second.

  “So, how’s Jillian?” she asked through a bite, but covering her mouth with her hand. She wasn’t a barbarian.

  Hector’s face lost all its elation. His shoulders drooped. Uh-oh. Was that a glisten in his eyes? Izzy wasn’t sure she could handle it if he started to cry.

  “I wouldn’t know. She moved out.” He put down his burger.

  “What? When did this happen?” Izzy kept eating. She felt bad for him, but the pizza was so good.

  “A week ago.”

  “I take it from the look on your face, it wasn’t your idea.”

  “I didn’t have a clue.” He picked up a fry, made a face at it, and tossed it back down. The sadness in his voice pulled at her heart. “One day she was happy, and the next she wasn’t.”

  “Did she tell you why?” She snatched his discarded fry and put it in her mouth.

  “She said we didn’t have anything in common, and she was sick of coming second to my friends.”

  “Oh.” No surprise there. Anyone paying even the slightest attention would have heard Jillian’s none-too-subtle remarks when Hector wasn’t paying enough attention to her.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Izzy concentrated on her third piece of pizza.

  “I know that face,” he said, pointing. “You know something you’re not telling me.”

  She blew a breath out. “Well, I guess I saw something coming.”

  He crossed his arms across his massive chest. “What? And you didn’t tell me?”

  He was right. She should have said something. He didn’t respond when Jillian said something, though. Why would she think he would listen to her? Besides, she hadn’t thought Jillian would break up with him. Maybe threaten to, but not actually do it. Jillian was crazy about Hector.

  She put down her pizza. “Wait. Maybe I could have said something, but why would I meddle in your relationship if you didn’t ask me to? At the worst, I expected something would bubble up and you guys might have to have a serious discussion. I didn’t expect her to move out.”

  Hector wadded his napkin and threw it on the table. He dropped his head and ran both hands through his hair. When he looked up, he was still perfectly groomed. How did he do that? “Well, she did. And I didn’t see anything coming at all. How did you?” He pushed his hardly touched burger and fries to the side. Izzy made a note to take some Peanut M&M’s to his desk later.

  “It actually wasn’t much of a secret.” She went back to her pizza. “Anyone could see she was unhappy, especially when you were around your friends.”

  “When?” His brows furrowed.

  Seriously? He had no clue? She dropped the remaining crust into the box and pushed it to the side.

  “Just occasionally. Look, I think she was happy with you. Most of the time.” Now wasn’t the time to be gentle. “It’s just, when you’re with your frien
ds, you forget to pay attention to her.”

  “Not true,” he said. “I pay attention to her. I’m always aware of her when she’s there.”

  “You may be aware of her, but when you’re playing video games, you’re pretty single focused. Especially when you get into your multiplayer games. Nothing registers except the screen.”

  “Again, not true.” He pressed his forefinger against the table. “Well, maybe sometimes when it’s intense. But you play. You know how it is. She knows how it is.”

  How could he not see it? Even now, in hindsight.

  “My guess is she was more into spending time with you.”

  “Oh.” He dropped his hands to the table and looked into the distance as if maybe he was starting to see what Izzy was telling him.

  “Do you think it’s final?” Izzy asked. She hoped not. Despite his shortcomings, Hector and Jillian were actually good together. Hector could get her back so easily if he simply pulled his head out of the sand.

  “I don’t know. I hope not. I just don’t know what I can do.”

  Ugh. Clueless man!

  “You need to make it about her for a while. Forever, if you want it to last. Make her feel special.” Izzy couldn’t believe she had to spell it out for him. Well, actually, she could. As long as she’d known him, women had thrown themselves at him. He’d never had to try to get a date. He’d never had to try to make something work. He hadn’t built the skills. But Jillian was special. Hell, if Jillian had been into women, Izzy would have been first in line to date her—if Izzy dated, which she didn’t.

  Hector squared his shoulders. Hope shone in his eyes. “I’ll do it. I’ll show her she’s the center of my universe. I don’t know if it’ll work, but I have to try. Thanks, Izzy. You always know what to do.”