Read The Guy With the Suitcase (Once Upon a Guy #1) for Free Online

Pierce Callahan.  
    Birthdate: 02/15/1995.
    Email address:
    That was it. He had, completely by chance, found the way. He’d just give his email. He hadn’t used it in a while, so it would need a good clean-up to leave space for new and important emails, but he had one and it was free and accessing it was only a buck away.  
    [email protected] , he wrote.
    He filled out the rest of the document with his details, education, and experience, which had been minimal. But every little bit was important. When he was done, he gave it a once over and printed a few copies. Then, he accessed his email.  
    2,405 unread emails. Mostly junk. He deleted every single message, including the ones from the past, before he’d been kicked out to the curb. Clean slate. That was what he needed.
    He paid for his services and exited the café reinvigorated with excitement, waving his resumés in his hand as he walked down the street. He would head downtown. It was where it was busiest in Manhattan and where there were surely more vacancies.  
    He saw a job ad taped on the pane of a bar and he decided to pay it a visit. Only when he’d stepped inside had he realized he had never done this before and had no clue what to say or handle the situation. He decided to turn around and leave when someone from behind the bar greeted him.
    “Hi,” he answered reluctantly to the barmaid.
    “How can I help?” she asked with a wide smile.
    He paused a second before replying. “I was just wondering if you have any jobs,” he told her.
    She nodded her head and went to get her manager to talk to him. Could it be that easy? Really? On his second try? He was trying not to overthink things before they actually took place; he didn’t like getting disappointed. But sometimes, the mind does what it needs to do. A woman, older than the barmaid who had answered his question, came out of a door behind the bar and approached Pierce with vigor. The closer she came, though, the more her face changed, until eventually she stopped, the girl behind her bumping onto her. She looked at Pierce up and down and without missing a beat she turned her head to the right, talking to her employee.  
    “Carol, why would you bring me to the front to interview a hobo? Seriously, I got more important things to do in the office,” she said.
    Pierce was as taken as Carol. He’d washed his jumper, his trousers, had an extensive shower, cleaned up his hair, scrubbed his face a new one, and given his grandpa’s suitcase a once over. How was it even possible he still looked what he was? Was it that obvious? Had he missed a spot that no one else did? What was it that screamed ‘homeless’ whenever a potential employer looked at him? He really wanted to know, if he was gonna change his living situation.
    The manager turned to Pierce next and shouted from where she was standing with bitterness spilling out of her every pore.
    “Go sort your life out before you come asking me for a job.” That was all she said and withdrew back to her office.
    That’s what he was trying to do for fuck’s sake. Frustrated, he walked out of the bar. He kept south, heading towards the busier areas, although he already felt it was a lost battle. Two people had already given him the boot before they could even talk to him, he was doubting his chances looked any brighter in the Village.
    So Pierce ventured into bars, clothing stores, restaurants, and everything else that looked remotely opportune, but no opportunity came his way. While most personnel he talked to were genuinely nice, their bosses didn’t have the same stance. They were all weary of the ‘hobo’ the minute they set their eyes on him. Some looked at him with pity. Some with mere disgust. Most of them felt that it was their duty to advise him to fix his life. As if they had any clue what that entailed.
    The more rejections he got, however, the more determined he was. And hopeful. Hopeful that the next place he got in would at least