Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“What’s this?” Rupert looks up from his computer when I step into his office, holding the folded suit and shoes.
Loki jumps off his lap and runs out of the office. This asshole likes the cat. I wonder if Callie knows this? I’m too tired to give it much thought. My head feels like a bowling ball crashing into ten pins. However, I’m proud of myself for thinking to charge my phone and set my alarm after waking up at three in the morning to piss.
“Thank you for the clothes, but I can’t keep them.” I set them on his desk. “And you can’t pay me five grand a week to hang out with your wife.”
Rupert leans back in his chair, hands folded on his stomach.
“I made eighteen dollars an hour at the detail shop, not counting tips. You should pay me the same amount.”
He chuckles. “Are you allergic to money? Opposed to getting ahead in life?”
“It’s charity. I’m not a charity case.” I sit on the sofa, elbows on my legs, head bowed.
“Now feels like the right time to mention I have security cameras in my garage, but you can’t see the toilet.”
I lift my head.
He’s seen me sleep in his car. Fuck my life … he’s seen me bathe in the dog wash.
“Am I fired?”
He chuckles. “Fired? I don’t know, Flynn. Do you want me to fire you? I’m at a loss this morning. I don’t know if, in the history of mankind, someone has ever requested a pay cut for themselves. Granted, it’s probably safe to assume most people don’t sleep in their employer’s garage either.”
“My roommate got engaged. And his girlfriend is pregnant. I was sleeping on the sofa. It’s a one-bedroom apartment. After you paid me, they assumed I could find my own place. But I don’t know how long this job will last, so I don’t want to sign a lease. Hotels require a credit card, which I don’t have. I could stay at a shelter. There’s one on Hiawatha that’s pretty decent. It’s just been really convenient to be in your garage since I have to be here so early in the morning.”
Rupert nods slowly. “Okay.”
Okay? That’s it?
He drums his fingers on the desk. “How was the orchestra?”
“I’m not an expert on that kind of music, but everyone seemed to know what they were doing.”
He rolls his eyes.
I try to smile, but it’s hard to find one today. “It was fine,” I say. “Funny thing I discovered.”
“An orchestra is comprised of people playing instruments?”
“Actually, yes.” I give him the bird. “June has traveled the world as a cellist in a band. Her picture is on the wall at Orchestra Hall.”
Rupert squints. “What?”
“Yep.” I lean back, hands laced behind my head. “It would seem that I landed a rich girl too. But I don’t want that life, so what a waste, huh?”
“What is her band?”
“A World Away.”
“Sounds familiar. I’d have to ask Callie, but we might have seen her perform. Come to think of it, Callie thought she looked familiar. And what life don’t you want?”
“This life.” I roll my head, gesturing around the room.
“Flynn”—he laughs—“we’ve joked about my life, but I didn’t marry Callie for her money. When we met, I didn’t know her family was wealthy. She said her dad would hate me, but I just assumed it was because of my rough past. You don’t cast someone aside because of their net worth. Is that how you want people to treat you?”
“How do you think she’ll treat me if I tell her about my years in prison?”
Rupert rocks in his chair. “There’s only one way to find out.”
“Well, I don’t actually want to know. Not anymore. I was going to tell her last night after the concert. I told her we needed to talk.”
“And why don’t you want to know how she’ll react to your past?” He reaches for his green drink.
“Because, as unlikely as it is, I like to imagine her not caring about it. And what’s the point now?”
He takes several gulps, then licks his lips. “Why imagine it? Why not just find out?”
“You’re not listening. I said it’s unlikely. And there’s no point.”
“So what?”
“So, I don’t want to see that look of anguish on her face.” I stare out the window at the rain clouds forming in the distance. “I’ve been looked down upon my whole life. I don’t know if the fragmented images I have of a woman with long black hair are of my mother, but I think they are. And the look on her face is anguish. Like I’m a burden. A regret. A mistake. I like June. What we had was short, but it felt real, even if it wasn’t.” I return my gaze to Rupert. “Last night she looked heartbroken.”
“And you want that to be the lasting image you have of her?”