Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I nod. “I did.”
“Oh my gosh! I loved it! Dad wasn’t crazy about all the pink at first, but he’s a boy, you know?”
I smile conspiratorially. I can imagine that pink wouldn’t be a macho tough guy like Bennett’s favorite color. Though, I suppose he is an artist, so it’s at least got to be somewhere in his palette.
“Boys,” I say with a roll of my eyes and a little laugh that makes her giggle.
“Come on, Summer, sweetheart,” Charlie cuts in gently. “Let’s go do your bath, okay?”
Summer agrees with a nod but shoots a grimace in my direction that makes me have to swallow a laugh to avoid exposing myself. I’m more than certain Bennett is not in the mood for me to cut it up with his kid right now.
When Summer and Charlie are out of earshot, I ask what I think is the only obvious question. “So…does the job offer still stand?”
I know better than anyone that privacy is precious, and unknowingly, I just battered through his with a ram. His home, his career, his daughter—he’s obviously kept them all a secret for a reason. And by showing up here uninvited, I completely robbed him of his right to keep it that way. I don’t need to ask questions about his life—though I am obviously curious in every way. I need to ask if he can forgive me enough to still consider the offer valid.
“The salary is seventy-five thousand a year,” he replies, and his tone is surprisingly neutral.
Instantly, my stomach turns over in shock at both the offer still being on the table and the number that accompanies it. I’ve never really made any money on my own, and he’s offering me that much right out of the gate?
“Seventy-five thousand a year?”
“Fine.” He shrugs. “Make it eighty.”
Eighty thousand a year? I was just hoping for a job that paid minimum wage. I think I’m going to faint.
“And you can start tomorrow. Be here at nine a.m. sharp.”
My heart is racing. My stomach is doing gymnastics. And my nerves threaten to make all my limbs shake like leaves on a branch in the middle of a windstorm.
I don’t know when it happens or how it happens, but I know that we shake on it. A nonverbal confirmation that I have accepted the job.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I have other things to do.”
He walks me to the door and sees me out like none of the several life-changing things that just happened to me exist at all.
I got the job with Bennett Bishop.
And I start tomorrow.
Holy shit.
19
Norah
I don’t know how long I drive around Red Bridge, but when I loop downtown for the sixth time and Sheriff Peeler starts to look a little too interested in what I’m doing, I decide to head back to Josie’s house.
To say I’m a little shocked that my confrontation with Bennett Bishop ended in my getting a job that pays eighty grand a year would be an understatement. To say that’s the thing I’m thinking about most would be a lie.
Bennett has a daughter.
A daughter who’s obviously ailing and sick and who turns Bennett’s normally stony countenance into a puddle of goo.
As I turn onto the street that leads to Josie’s house, I try to concentrate on the pros of the situation.
My bank account won’t dwindle to zero, I don’t have to disappoint customers at CAFFEINE, clean up cow shit, or shear sheep, and I’m going to be doing something that genuinely fills the cup where I keep my soul.
Sure, I don’t know what my actual duties or schedule look like and I’m going to be working with a giant grumpous every day, but for the sake of reality, beggars really can’t be choosers. I came here with nothing, because for my whole life, I’ve been a nothing. But from now on, I’m actually going to have something. Something that feels like me. Something I actively chose.
This is a good thing. I hope.
My head is still spinning like a top when I close the distance to Josie’s house, but the situation that’s currently playing out pulls all my attention in a flash.
Oh no. Of course, this had to happen today.
My sister stands on the front porch, her arms crossed over her chest and her mouth set in a tight line. Moving boxes surround her, and more moving boxes are being unloaded by two big guys from a truck that’s parked in her gravel driveway and has NY Moves emblazoned on the side.
Looks like Lil’s efforts have finally arrived.
I cringe, put the Civic in park, and hide my face behind the steering wheel.
“I can see you, Norah!” Josie’s voice is loud enough to break through the barrier of the window. “You can get out of the car now and explain what in the hell is going on!”