Page 45 of What I Should've Said

“That’s pretty wild,” I respond with a nervous laugh and avert my eyes from my sister and to the two men moving the boxes. Every dang box has Norah Ellis written on it, so it’s not like I can pretend there’s been a big mix-up.

“It is wild,” Josie retorts. “Because it looks like they’re moving a three-bedroom house for a family of five.”

“Um…”

“Norah.”

I force myself to meet her eyes. “See…uh…my best friend Lillian was able to get my stuff out of Thomas’s apartment, plus some of his, if I’m honest, and she had to send everything somewhere, and since I’m here…”

“You had her send it all to my house.”

“Precisely.” I cringe again. “I didn’t think it would be this much, but Lil wanted me to have options. For selling, bartering, whatever. I had no idea she was including the sofa!”

Josie shakes her head on a sigh. “There are already two others inside.”

“You’re kidding me!”

Josie’s expression says that she is very much not kidding me. Desperate, I search for a reason to flip the switch from hopeless to hopeful.

“Is now the right time to tell you that I got a job?” I question. “I mean, I can’t be sure, but that feels like good news right about now…”

She tilts her head to the side. “You got a job?”

“And it pays really well,” I explain through several nods of my head. “So, you know, me being your roomie might not have to be such a permanent thing.”

“Call me crazy, but I don’t remember ever agreeing to it being a permanent thing,” she comments on a laugh that is equal parts exasperated and amused. “So, what is it? I have a hard time believing Earl is giving more than minimum wage, and I know Melba Danser wasn’t even offering seven bucks an hour to work at her bakery. The only other opening I saw was shearing sheep with Tad, and he’s a tightwad if I’ve ever known one.”

“It’s a position I interviewed for last week.”

“What position?”

“An artist’s assistant position.”

“An artist’s assistant?” She looks puzzled at first, but then, she puts those puzzle pieces together. “Wait a minute!” she shouts so loud it startles one of the moving guys. “You’re going to work for Bennett Bishop?” she questions, and her eyes dance with too much information.

Clearly, I was the only Ellis who didn’t know who the artist in town was.

“Don’t even start.” I point one index finger at her. “Don’t say a damn thing. It’s just a job. That’s it.”

Her smile is mischievous. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Well, you were thinking it. It’s written all over your face.”

“How much is he paying you?” she challenges with a little slant of her head.

“Enough that I can save up money to rent an apartment and get out of your hair.”

“How much, Nore?”

“Eighty thousand a year,” I whisper. She hears me anyway.

“What. The. Hell? Eighty G’s?” Her jaw goes slack. “What exactly does Bennett plan to have you doing?”

“I don’t really know. But, like, assistant things, I assume.”

“Wow. You got a job working for Bennett Bishop.” Her smirk is aggravating. And she doesn’t even know about the stupid kiss! Somehow, everyone in town managed to be somewhere other than Earl’s parking lot that day.

“Josie, it’s just a job.”

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