Kim has been alone for some time now, but she still wakes up most days expecting to feel Jimmy's arms wrapped around her. She expects, subconsciously, to feel his warmth beside her body. It's difficult for her to shake that she's on her own, and painful to comprehend the reality that a man who was her husband has become her ex-husband. There's a certain sort of cognitive dissonance about the situation; on one hand, Kim logically understands that she is no longer with Jimmy. On the other hand, she's still expecting him to be here with her in spite of the aforementioned divorce.
This time when she wakes up, she's greeted by the sound of the radio, a pop song from the late nineties emanating from an alarm clock beside her. Stifling a yawn, her eyes lazily flutter open to greet the new day. This time, she's not at home but instead in a hotel, in a city far from Albuquerque. The alarm clock by her bed isn't one she's accustomed to using at home, and she takes far too long searching for the button to turn it off. The music comes to a sharp halt when she does figure out how to turn the alarm off, and Kim is met with quietness, the only audible sound near her being the low lull of the air conditioning unit by the window.
Kim retrieves her cell phone on the nightstand beside her, which she left close to the alarm and easily within reach. When she flips the phone open and it lights up, her first instinct is to check for calls and text messages. Yet, there's nothing this time around, and the lack of notifications leaves her feeling somewhat disappointed. Some time ago, she'd have the pleasure of waking up to a voicemail from Jimmy, or a good-morning text. There is nothing from him now, though, and nothing from anybody else. She is reminded of her own loneliness then, far from home and further from the love she once shared.
Ever since the divorce, Kim's spent plenty of hours of her life contemplating what would've happened if the two of them had just communicated better, or if Jimmy hadn't gone down such a dark path. The less confident part of her particularly loves getting stuck in a loop of wondering how things would've gone had she done things differently.
The memories are nevertheless fresh and present in her mind; she can still feel his touch ghosting over her body in her dreams, his lips against hers, his warm breaths and the fresh taste of clean teeth kisses — god, she misses that intimacy so much. She misses him so much that the ache could carve a hole in her.
Saul Goodman dove into a dangerous line of work that was far beyond even Kim's level of comfort; a facade induced by deeply internalized trauma that went beyond surface level soon led to inevitable complications in their relationship. He'd gone through things that he couldn't even speak about around Kim. So much had changed. Jimmy changed. Hell, Kim herself had changed in ways she wasn't proud of.
Perhaps their marriage had been doomed from the start. That train of thought still wouldn't have made the process any easier.
Kim still goes about each day of her life, functional and working, even though she hurts. In fact, today, she really has to push herself to get out of bed, as she's got an interview with a potential employer, and that's not something she intends on missing. She's come all this way and won't allow herself to fall behind.
So, she pulls herself out of bed on-time, hits the shower immediately — it's a hotel shower, but she's brought her own shampoo and conditioner from home, because simple comforts like that help when traveling. The water pours down upon her body and she's infinitely grateful that she's able to afford a pretty decent hotel, because the water pressure here is fucking incredible. She almost wishes she could spend an extra few minutes enjoying the shower alone, but she still needs time to get dressed, eat breakfast, and do anything else she might want to do before checking out.
A wave of anxiety hits her as she's getting dressed, though she can't necessarily pinpoint why she's getting herself worked up. She'll chalk it up to anticipation; applying for a new job has always been kind of intimidating, and doubly so when said new job is in a faraway city. In the long-run, starting over in a new place will likely help with moving on, but such a concept is much simpler in theory than it is in practice.
All the same, though, she finds that there's a certain thrill in being this far away from Albuquerque; Houston is far enough that she won't have to get a mini-panic attack every time she sees her ex's face on a billboard or on the television. No local fame for Saul Goodman here, just endless opportunities to explore and make new memories, provided Kim actually gets hired for the job she's gunning for. She's still surprised she got a call back from the place so soon after she'd sent in her resume; it's far more expansive of a company than Mesa Verde in the fact alone that it's international. The company, a German-owned conglomerate known as Madrigal Electromotive, wants to hire her for their legal division in Houston.
Kim closes the door to her hotel room behind her, double checking that she has a keycard by giving her pockets a hasty pat-down. It's one of those 'just in case I forgot' habits — she's had a few isolated incidents in the past where she's accidentally left her keycard hotel rooms and she's determined not to make that mistake again.
She takes advantage of the complimentary breakfast that the hotel offers: waffles and bacon with room-temperature orange juice and some relatively fresh fruit on the side. All the while, Kim can't help but to reminisce on the breakfasts she'd shared with her ex-husband, the adventures they'd shared while staying in places like this one. Had this been a five-star hotel, had her and Jimmy still been together, they might've made plans to scam the nearest intoxicated banker at the hotel bar. They would've left giggling, giddy from the high of getting free drinks or pulling off a successful little scheme.
Maybe in another life, Kim thinks to herself. She tries not to linger on the thought as she's waiting for her cab. Anxiety is prompting a fresh craving for nicotine, but she doesn't want to make a bad first impression for her interview with any lingering cigarette smoke on her outfit. So, she opts through looking through brochures for various nearby restaurants and attractions that Houston has to offer. After all, if she gets this job, she's going to need to know her way around the city once she moves here. Knowing a place or two to get a bite to eat might help.
The taxi driver is a polite middle-aged woman with smile lines, brown eyes, and a noticeably thick Texan accent. "You must be on your way to something important," the woman comments in a rough-sounding but nevertheless kind tone of voice. She makes a courtesy glance at Kim, getting a look at her formal-looking outfit and raising an eyebrow. "'You here on business?" She asks as she turns her focus back on the road, beginning to pull out of the hotel parking lot.
"That's what I'm hoping for," Kim replies with a tight-lipped smile, blue eyes flitting from the window to the woman driving. Her gaze shifts back to the surrounding city, eying the tall buildings that stretch high into the sky above. Everything here is unfamiliar and new. Elaborating a little, Kim says, "I'm on my way to a job interview, actually. I came here all the way from New Mexico."
The woman gives a bit of a lopsided smile in reaction. She keeps her eyes on the road ahead as she responds to Kim, "Well, all right, then. That's quite a ways away, ain't it? Best of luck with that. I hope you get the job you're lookin' for. Must be darn good if you're here out of state for it."
"Thanks," Kim says in response. "I sure hope so, too. I could really use this job." She's been searching for a much-needed catalyst to invoke change in her life. Being this far away from New Mexico is already helping, in a way — if she doesn't have so many physical memories of her past lingering around as much, she may have a chance at healthily moving on.
The fortunate thing is that Kim arrives at Madrigal's building on time; thank god, because the last thing she wants is to show up late to an interview. Making a positive first impression is a priority of hers. She wants to do things right, wants to be punctual and on-time. The interior of the main building is incredibly modern and has a much more distinct appearance from any of the law firms or offices that Kim had worked on. Busy employees dressed in suits and ties hurry about, walking by her and going about their business as she takes a seat in the waiting area, crossing her legs and examining her surroundings. The waiting area is wide-open and minimally decorated for the most part, save for a set of three massive paintings that decorate the walls. The paintings are abstract in nature and have brushstrokes of white, orange-red and black with little form to them.
It doesn't take long for her to be called upon and greeted by a sharp-dressed young man with a striped tie and short, neatly-cut brown hair who recognizes her instantly, approaching her with a polite smile. He appears to be an assistant — not a boss-looking type, but his attitude is professional and welcoming.
"Are you Miss Wexler?" He asks politely.
It's difficult to hear anything other than Mrs. before her name; it just feels wrong, even though it's the reality of her status as a divorcée. Kim nods her head, regardless of the emotions welling within her, and smiles in an equally polite manner. "Yep. That's me."
The man gestures for Kim to follow him. "Right this way, then. Miss Quayle will be seeing you now."
Kim, of course, follows along as the man leads Kim down a hallway, through a room full of cubicles and energetically chattering workers, and then toward the final destination: a glass-walled office. The assistant holds open the door for Kim, and upon stepping in, she gets a good look at the room. There's a petite woman sitting behind a large glass desk, a large window behind her. Her perfectly straightened hair is dark — a brown color so dark it's nearly black — and long, ending several inches past her shoulder. This woman must be the boss, if Kim had to take a guess; there's a Platinum Award for outstanding leadership in business addressed to Lydia Rodarte-Quayle.
Rodarte-Quayle, huh? What an elaborate name. It sounds like a designer name, like a brand of clothing or shoes that Kim wouldn't be able to afford. She pictures some overly wealthy individual boasting, 'Oh, this little number? It's a Rodarte-Quayle exclusive.' It just sounds so fancy.
Miss Lydia herself even has a rather fancy and formal look to her, fitting that miscellaneous thought popping up in Kim's head. She's wearing a smooth black blazer with a sky-blue button-up blouse underneath, a shiny silver necklace adorning her neck and matching earrings upon her lobes. Her nails are cut short, painted a pearlescent pink sheen that glistens in the bright lighting of her office, reflecting light from the massive window behind Lydia.
She's very pretty.
Lydia Rodarte-Quayle smiles at her assistant and quietly thanks him for retrieving Kim before he parts ways and heads out of the office. Lydia then turns her focus to Kim and stands, extending a hand to her. "Lydia Rodarte-Quayle, head of Logistics. You must be Kim?"
Kim shakes Lydia's hand — her hand is small and her skin is soft, yet her handshake is firm and confident. "That's me," Kim confirms with a smile. "It's very nice to meet you, Lydia. Glad to be here."
Lydia smiles, appearing to be quite pleased by the introduction. She sits back down at her desk, gesturing for Kim to have a seat at the chair adjacent. "Please, make yourself comfortable. It's not every day that I get an applicant from all the way over in Albuquerque."
Taking a seat, Kim smooths out her skirt, trying to find something to do with her hands. Ultimately, she decides to simply rest them upon her lap. She's not sure why she's still anxious; it must be the formality of it all. Maybe, admittedly, she's a little on the distracted side due to the fact that Lydia's incredibly beautiful. Not that Kim's focused on it, but — well, she can't exactly ignore it, either.
Kim just nods her head, going along with the conversation. "It's not every day that I apply for jobs in Houston, but I'm happy to be here. Thank you for seeing me today."
Lydia inhales sharply, looking down at a set of papers, of which Kim can guess is her resumé. "It's my pleasure. I'm certainly glad to have you here as well, Ms. Wexler," she says rather matter-of-factly, her eyes busily trailing down the length of the papers before her. "I've read over your resumé and I have to say, I was very surprised by the history of your employment — pleasantly surprised, um, to be more specific. Madrigal Electromotive could really use a lawyer with your intellect and dedication on our legal team."
Hearing that causes Kim's eyes to light up — nothing gives her a confidence boost like some positive affirmation about her intellectual capabilities. It's definitely not because a lovely woman is complimenting her. Not at all. At least, that's what Kim's telling herself internally. She, of course, keeps her response respectful and professional. "I appreciate that, Miss Quayle. I'd be honored to join your legal team."
"That's what I like to hear." Lydia breathes out a soft breath akin to a chuckle as she flips through Kim's papers, examining them once again, if only briefly. She then glances back to her with a great deal of attentiveness in her eyes, her focus entirely on Kim. Her gaze is certainly rather attention-grabbing, to say the least. "I'd have you on retainer, of course, if you're willing and interested in that sort of position."
Such words leave a positive impression on Kim; it would seem that she's got the job. A whole world of possibilities has opened up to her; the change will be daunting, no doubt, and she surely has her work cut out for when it comes to moving. Yet, she feels a little bit lighter, mentally-speaking, now that the weight of uncertainty is no longer bearing down on her. Lydia Rodarte-Quayle is giving her the chance to start over again, and Kim couldn't be more grateful.
"Absolutely," Kim tells her without even a single beat of hesitation. "I'd love that. I'll start looking for an apartment right away."
"Good," Lydia says evenly, a smile on her pink-painted lips and an assured look upon her dainty features. "I look forward to working with you."
Kim finds herself staring into Lydia's eyes a little longer than she intends to. There's something rather captivating about her; Kim can't pinpoint what it is, though. That is, perhaps, something that Kim can unpack later, when she has a little more time to delve into her own feelings. For now, she tells the other woman, "The feeling is mutual."
It takes a bit of flying between Albuquerque and Houston for Kim to find her footing. Once she's back in town, she gets to work on finding an apartment and begins packing things up preemptively. She doesn't go overboard with it, of course, until she decides where she'll end up living. All the while, she fights the urge to call Jimmy and tell him that she's planning on moving; they haven't spoken in a while, and she worries it'll be out-of-place and awkward confronting him about this, at best. At worst, her heart may break all over again.
She opts for telling him over email, because that seems to be the only way that she can contact him nowadays without her emotions overtaking her. Jimmy wishes her luck in his response, though not being able to hear the tone of his voice does leave his reply feeling somewhat ambiguous when she reads it. It's the most contact they've had in weeks, and it seems to be the best that they'll have.
Kim finds an apartment that she thinks will suit her, just North of downtown Houston. The place is a close enough drive to Madrigal Electromotive's Texas branch that it won't take long for her to get to work, traffic permitted. It's a cozy one-room apartment that reminds her a little bit of her place back in Alburquerque if not a bit smaller. As she's taking a look through the place to get a better look at the interior, she's hit with the memory of her and Jimmy playfully exploring for-sale homes together and messing around with the shower. It doesn't feel so long ago that things were so simple, so filled with love and joy, and it's hard not to let the thought linger in the back of her head as she's standing in the apartment's bathroom for the first time.
The loneliness could eat a hole through her heart, but she won't let it stop her from pushing forward. Moving on will be easier said than done — Kim knows that it will take time to get adjusted to her loss, and to become familiar with the place she's moving to. She'll make a new life here for herself, even if it'll be a challenge; her future is her own hands now, and though she may still hurt, she knows that she'll be able to handle herself.