I attempted to straighten my ill-fitting charcoal pencil skirt as the bus lurched to a halt. People trickled off and the bus resumed its slog. Mid-morning, and I’d already spent a full day’s energy moving my new purchases from Tommy’s to mine.
Mine.
I beamed. Who knew there could be such joy in outfitting a house that belonged to me? Well, a rental.
Tommy surveyed my purchases last night with a critical eye, nearly critically enough to deflate my high. She’d worried over the lack of contract for the apartment and the absence of keys. Once assured that I’d accounted for expenses until I was paid by Live Right, she’d relaxed. My grandmother had trained me in estate affairs since I started high school. Sure, there wasn’t the same margin of error to play with, but the principles had to be the same in the peasant world as they were in the rich world.
A girl with lopsided pigtails waved from where she sat next to her grandmother. My heart twisted slightly in my chest. Once that could have been me and my grandmother.
I snickered loudly, drawing the attention of an old man. He smiled and returned his attention to reading the paper.
On second thought, swap the bus for a private jet, the pigtails for an intricate braid, and insert clothing I had to keep pristine at all times. But the relationship was real. I loved my grandmother. She was all I had after my parents’ helicopter crashed over the Maldives. My parents were both only children and so I had no cousins, no aunties, and no uncles. The only relations I had were from my grandmother’s generation and mostly deceased. If I had any alive, I’d never met them.
Truly I wanted to be out here living like this. But things ended on an ugly note with my grandmother, and that didn’t sit right with me.
I hadn’t read her email yet. I could guess what it would say—an order for me to stop being narrow-minded; that people would kill to be in my position. My only relation understood me on so many levels, and yet didn’t in fundamental ways too. When we discussed anything other than my inheritance and responsibilities, we could spend hours talking.
I might have hurt her by leaving, and perhaps I should have handled it differently—sat her down and explained why I was going. In a rational way she’d have respected.
Tonight, I’d read the email. But I had to get through my first day at Live Right Realty before that.
I tugged at the pencil skirt again, pulling at the hideous white blouse tucked into the high waist. The outfit was the least hideous I could find at Jamieson, an outlet store Tommy got some of her clothes from.
The prices were so cheap I couldn’t believe it. Upon further inspection, the quality of the material was so shoddy, the prices seemed outrageous. The garments wouldn’t last more than ten washes—yet another way the system squeezed money from the poor while ruining the environment. I bought a few outfits I could mix and match out of necessity, but from now on, I’d save for classic pieces of higher quality that would last years.
I glanced out the window, zoning out as the bus passed through Orange, Red, and Pink. This bus only serviced those three suburbs, and sure enough, before heading into Purple, the bus turned inward to Grey.
Skyscrapers soon loomed overhead, their tops impossible to see from where I held on to my rung.
I was only concerned with one scraper.
Kyros Sky.
I’d spent two days pushing down memories of my interview on Level 44 of the building. Not an easy feat when my imagination had taken the interaction with Angelica and twisted it beyond recognition. I’d woken in a cold sweat last night after a nightmare where the receptionist asked me a list of personal questions, and I’d answered every one of them without hesitation.
Weird.
And inaccurate. The stress of figuring out peasant life was getting to me, and whatever my sentiments on Angelica, I was on a one-way street now. I couldn’t not work there with bills to pay.
The bus lunged to a stop, and I followed the other city-goers exiting the back door.
I’d disembarked at a different stop today. This morning, I looked up the route from here to the skyscraper on Tommy’s phone, but the inability to double-check directions on the spot was fucking disconcerting. Honestly? I usually just hopped in the car and left our chauffeur to figure everything out.
Montgomery’s was visible at the far corner on my side of the street. Ha! I knew where I was. Take that, world.
I crossed the street up this end just in case weedy teen was doing the security rounds outside the fast-food chain. By 10:40 a.m., the elevator of Kyros Sky was shooting me upward.
10:40 a.m. was okay, right? Not too early?
Being punctual was a professional quality—my grandmother was a stickler for it.
Chill out, Basi.
Exhaling a final time, I smoothed my blouse and skirt again, and hooked my thumbs through my bag straps.
“You got this,” I whispered to myself.
The doors opened, and a smile was already plastered on my face. I’d expected the same bustle and murmur from Monday.
The smile slid from my face.
The place was a ghost town. No one stood behind the desk.
I’d just taken on a fucking rental. And the thousands I’d spent on furnishing it. Shit. I mean, there was enough money for food and transportation for the rest of this week. But nothing at all for next week.
I’d made a terrible mistake. I’d—
“Basi. I’m glad you made it,” Angelica strode from an office to the left of reception.
My heart galloped. In relief—or so I told myself. It was possible that I’d really downplayed how uncomfortable her eyes made me feel. The bright blues fixed on my clothing, scanning me from head to toe. When she returned to meet my gaze, her expression was empty of disgust or disappointment.
After her attention to my expensive items on Monday, I was happy to note her reaction to my cheap outfit. Tommy was wrong, I wasn’t hired for my connections. That was a win.
“Good morning, Angelica. Am I early?”
I was.
She smiled, and I noted the dark smudges of fatigue beneath her eyes. Kind of surprising that I could make out any facial detail within ten centimetres of those blazing orbs.
“No, no. The other staff usually schedule house visits and clients for the first half of the day. They come into the office later.”
Oh… “Realty businesses don’t keep normal work hours?”
“Not us,” she said, her eyes flashing in anger.
I froze for a full five seconds.
Angelica blinked a few times, and I sucked in a ragged breath, heart pounding in my ears.
Holy fuckery, Angelica was terrifying when she lost her temper. The woman tilted her head, and the ferociousness drained from her face, allowing me to unlock somewhat.
“I just meant that waking up later must be nice. I’m a night owl,” I forced myself to say.
If she pulled that shit again, I was leaving. I didn’t even understand why she made me feel so scared, just that she did. Except I couldn’t leave now. I’d used my money to outfit the rental and had rent to pay on Sunday.
Fuck. I’d backed myself into a corner.
“A night owl?” The concept seemed to amuse her. “I can relate to that.”
Probably the only thing we had in common.
She recovered the brisk manner from two days prior.
“There are a few things to sign before I start your initiation,” the woman said.