My mouth dropped open. “I mean, ice cream is great and all, but I just want a job,” I replied.
“Why do you want a job?” she snarked back, leaning forward over her desk with her breasts hanging out as she tilted her head to the side to stare at me. I breathed in, noting that her office smelled like the worst combination of incense on the planet. It was like a hippie threw up in here during an orgy.
“I don’t know. For independence. So I can save up and take care of myself.” If this was a job interview, it was officially the weirdest one I’d ever had.
“How remarkably boring,” Rose replied while shaking her head. “You’re young! You worry too much.” Worrying was in my blood. I was conditioned to care, trained to obsess over where my next meal would come from or what asshole Mama was bringing home that night.
I gritted my teeth. Who the hell was this bitch? She didn’t know me, didn’t know my fucking life. She took one look at me, heard what Decker had to say, and created her own narrative. I was getting really tired of people and their assumptions. “I had to grow up at a young age,” I seethed.
“That’s not an excuse to be so serious,” she replied with a wave of her hand.
“It’s not an excuse, it’s my fucking life. For most teenagers, a job might just be something for extra spending money, but for me? It’s survival. So if you think you can hire me on and feel good about yourself for teaching me some bullshit, free-spirited lesson on going with the flow, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”
I clasped my hand over my lips when I realized the toxic words had left my mouth. I stared at Rose as her smile grew wider. She clutched her heart for a beat before yanking open one of her desk drawers. Pulling out a tanktop, she tossed it to me before speaking. “Monica will give you your schedule. I think this was a beautiful breakthrough, Blakely. Thanks for sharing your higher self’s journey with me.” She then had the fucking audacity to bow with her hands clasped at her chest in a prayer pose. “I’ll see you Saturday for our next session. Your task for the week is to tell me what job you actually want. If you come back with nothing to say, don’t bother coming back to work at all. See you then!”
I grabbed the shirt and stood up. I was going to kill Decker for getting me this job. I already knew that he definitely couldn’t be trusted, but this solidified that. I didn’t need a damn life coach. I just needed cash. I needed out of Lance’s loft. I needed…
Maybe I didn’t know what I needed anymore. Whatever it was, I doubted I would find it here.
5
Blakely
When I got home after my eight hour shift, I was a sweaty mess, my tight, white tank stuck to my body like a second skin and showing off a good portion of my stomach. Work was a beating. Monica trained me well, but the second the dinner rush arrived, I was on my own.
For the most part, it was a fast-paced but easy job. Only a handful of customers leered. I quickly realized that the tank top was less for show and more to keep cool. The barbecue pits outside were hot as hell, and after my fourth trip to get food, I found myself hiding in the walk-in freezer with a few of the other servers for a ten minute break.
Lance texted me two hours ago, telling me to call him when I got off so he could walk me home, but I pretended not to see it. I was still mad at Decker for setting me up with his fucking life coach, and I didn’t trust myself not to tell Lance that his best friend was an asshole. It wouldn’t be worth it, and besides, something told me Lance already knew.
When I opened the door, I was surprised to see Lance and Decker sitting shirtless in the living room and screaming at the television, Xbox controls in their hands. They didn’t notice me at first, so I took a casual opportunity to stare at Decker. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, showing off a delicious set of six pack abs and tanned skin. I almost had to remind myself that I was pissed at him.
“You’re home!” Lance yelled in greeting while holding his controller up. He was hitting every damn button on the thing. My brother didn’t dare pull his eyes from the screen, too engrossed in whatever game they were playing. It looked like the typical guys’ night. A couple of empty beer bottles and snacks littered the coffee table, and I saw an empty pizza box in the kitchen. It was the messiest this place had ever been.
I learned really quickly that Lance and Decker were chronically tidy. Not a single dish was ever left in the sink. Not an article of clothing left on the floor. Seeing them now, in their natural element, had me wondering if they kept things clean because they wanted me to feel comfortable. If I was ever okay with mentioning how fucked up my prior living situation had been, I’d let them know that they had nothing to worry about. I couldn’t tell you how many times I found used condom wrappers on the floor at the old trailer.
“Video game night?” I asked. “Should I leave?” For some reason, this felt like I was encroaching on a ritual of sorts.
“No, we’re almost done!” Lance yelled before blowing up a car on the video game. He did a quick fist pump to the ceiling before attacking his controller again, never once tearing his eyes from the screen. I laughed.
Unlike Lance, Decker glanced at me with disinterest, then quickly did a double take. His mouth dropped open in shock when he saw what I was wearing. It’s like I could feel his heady gaze, trailing up and down my body. It was hot. It was wrong. His distraction led to his demise though. Lance killed him in whatever shooting game they were playing, making my brother scream and dance in his spot on the couch while Decker cursed.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” Decker asked as Lance reached forward to grab his beer on the coffee table and take a swig.
“You should know! You’re the one that got me the job. It’s my uniform,” I replied with an eye roll before doing a little spin, showing off the disgusting trail of sweat down my spine in the process. I was walking over to the couch when he grunted and bit his lip. A part of me wanted to dance at the idea of catching him off guard, but I knew the subtle shock was short lived. I wasn’t in the mood to chit chat but figured I should catch up with Lance, so I made my way over to the couch.
“Please tell me you didn’t get my sister a job at a strip club,” Lance replied while looking me up and down with a disgusted scowl, his eyebrows dipped in disapproval.
Scooting over for me to sit, Lance shook his head before setting down his controller. I settled between them before reaching for the open bag of chips. Grabbing a handful, I stuffed them in my mouth with a satisfied moan that made Decker sit up straighter. The bar was so busy I didn’t have time for a lunch break, not that I would have taken it. I was avoiding Rose at all costs.
The one time she did find me, she said, “Slouching is for people that want to hide, Blake. Roll them shoulders back. You are a fearless woman. Roar, damnit!” Then she danced away to chat with Monica.
“I’ve never actually been there. Rose and I meet at the park for our sessions,” Decker said on a swallow, his eyes lingering on the straps of my black bra. He shook his head and started staring at the TV like it had offended him. “But maybe this was a bad idea.”
“Bad idea? You think? About that,” I said while turning to face him, trying to ignore his rippled abs fully on display. I was so close I could lick them if I wanted to. But I totally didn’t. Random licking would go against the grieving daughter vibes I’d been sulking in all week. It wasn’t fair, really. The man had more muscle than my ex-boyfriend’s classic car. “I don’t appreciate being blind-sided by Rose. I wanted a job, not a fucking life coach. Why do you even have a life coach?” I asked.