It was time to act my ass off.
Taking a deep breath, I forced my legs to move me across the pedestrian-only street where I pushed open the electric-blue door into the pet store.
The smell of three-day-old roadkill fell over me like a woollen blanket on a summer’s day. I shoved down the urge to gag.
“A woofing welcome to Purrfect Pets! I’m Jenny. How can I assist you right meow?”
Fuck me.
Would I have to say that?
Spinning to face a stout woman, I hastily schooled my features into a disarming smile—growing up rich had taught me some things. “Hi, yes. Thank you, Jenny. I’m Basi. I saw your job advert in the paper and would love to submit my résumé for consideration.”
A pent-up breath quivered in my chest.
The woman’s pleasant expression dropped, and I blinked at the change. She reached to tuck her frizzy hair behind her ears. The hair popped out again as she scanned me from head to toe. “You want to work here? At this pet shop?”
Too late to question my wardrobe choice. Thinking fast, I kept my smile at full wattage. “I do. I’ve just come from brunch with my aunties.” That I didn’t have.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. Was she the owner? I really hoped not. The way she was circling had me wondering if she’d sniff my butt at any moment. Maybe she’d taken on some animal characteristics during her time here.
She held out a hand, and I stared before realising it was for my résumé.
“Here you go.” I placed the two sheets in her hand. “I haven’t had much job experience, but I assure you I’m a fast learner. And I love animals. This would truly be a dream job for me.” I crossed my fingers behind my back.
Tommy said I should lie to get the job. I felt bad about it, but she’d assured me hardly anyone had jobs they liked so lying was expected.
Jenny lifted her eyes from my résumé, and I read the derision in them before she continued reading.
Had I laid on the charm too strong?
The urge to fidget itched in my limbs. Forcing them to remain still, I peered around, trying to keep my nose from wrinkling at the roadkill smell. Rows of stock filled the space around the cashier. Fenced areas occupied the middle space and I smiled at the fluffy rabbits I could glimpse between the slates. My ears picked up sounds of chickens, and I could see bird cages lined the far wall with fish tanks along the right wall.
If I worked here, more body wash was in order. I’d go through that shit by the litre.
“What’s your favourite breed of dog?” Jenny shot at me, lowering the résumé.
“Easy,” I quipped. “Frenchies.”
Her mouth pulled down.
“Their heads are too large for natural birth,” she snapped. “Over 90 percent of the mothers are forced to have C-sections.”
Shit. Should have said Labrador. “That’s terrible. I wasn’t aware of that.”
Jenny held out my résumé, eyes hard. “I’m looking for someone with more experience.”
More experience, my butthole. “I really am eager to learn everything you can tell me about animals and the pet shop business.”
I could salvage this. I could—
“Not what we’re looking for.” The woman shook the résumé my way and I backed away.
Dammit. In Tommy’s coaching, the owners just took the damn résumé with a fake smile and a thank you.
I scrambled for a save. “Uh. That’s a real shame, Jenny. I thank you for your time. Is it possible to leave you with my résumé anyway? Just in case you change your mind?”
She sighed. “Sure.”
My résumé was going in the bin.
“Okay, thank you! Lovely to meet you.”
I nearly tripped over my feet in my haste to escape the roadkill store. After closing the blue door behind me, I hurried away in a random direction, lest she followed to watch me.
Paranoid much?
Groaning, I threaded my hands through my silky butter-blonde curls. “That did not go well.”
It was the only job out of the three that interested me in the slightest. Looked like I’d be dropping my sheets of paper off at the other two after all. In my tossing dreams last night, I was hired on the spot.
Reality was a bitch.
Maybe the other places were within walking distance. It was Monday, and Tommy was at her laundry job 12:00 p.m. until 7:00 p.m., six days a week. I didn’t relish the thought of returning to her house alone to marinate in my failure.
I dodged between the people on the pavement and leaped for a free space on the steps of a bank that was owned by a family friend. I sent the building a withering look even though I genuinely liked Sir Olytheiu.
Shaking out the paper, I studied the addresses of the other two circled job listings. I’d caught the bus from Orange to Grey with Tommy, but I only knew where the stops for that route were. The tomato factory job was in the agricultural district. The suburbs of the city were bordered on one side by expansive fields where all the produce for our population was grown. It was a point of pride to most inhabitants of Bluff City that we were a self-sustaining economy. With such a small population, it shouldn’t be possible. What made it possible were the huge estates—where I came from—that bordered the city on the other side.
I didn’t know if a bus drove out in the direction of the tomato factory and was too scared to try by myself. I definitely couldn’t walk there in my borrowed sandals that thankfully didn’t press on any of my Hatch blisters.
Stuck again.
Pursing my lips, I read the address of the newspaper gig. Level 26, Heraldson-Jamie High-Rise, Jonker Street.
I had no idea where Jonker Street was, but all high-rises were in Grey, so the place was within walking distance. Dang. Part of me had hoped getting there wouldn’t be possible. Was I really going to do a paper run? Or was I rushing into this? How often did the newspaper come out? If there were two pages of jobs each time, something better was bound to turn up in short duration.
... But what if nothing came up? I had barely any money with me. The longer I was stuck in limbo, the more afraid I’d get. I was determined to keep an open mind to the strangeness of my current lot.
As though drawn, my eyes trained on the tiny advert in the bottom left corner. The notice was still there despite its goal to remain unnoticed. Tommy had said not to bother with Live Right Realty. I wasn’t sure I had that luxury.
I read the address. Level 44, Kyros Sky, Marquis Street.
Another high-rise. Okay, I had five copies of my résumé. Time to spread the mother-trucking news that Basi was in town.
Emboldened, I stepped into the throng of city-goers.
Oof!
The air squeezed from my lungs as a large body slammed into me. Forced back several steps, I sucked in a painful breath. Intense heat spread across my stomach. Yelping, I plucked the silk off my stomach.
My eyes dropped and a moan escaped my mouth at the brown stain covering me.
“You crashed into me,” the man accused. He towered over me, and either side of me.
I clenched my teeth. “Not on purpose.”
“You spilled my coffee too. I just got that.”
Whoa, where was the freakin’ apology? I was the one with boiling coffee on me. He’d halved the number of tops I had to wear. “I wore your coffee. There’s a difference.”