Page 35 of Downpour

“Am I getting fired?”

Peggy glared at me. “Much to my dismay, no. You’re not. Now sign those if you still want to be employed. And what happened to your face?”

I started to thumb through them. “Is this like a workers’ comp thing? I meant to call you when I left Mr. Wilson’s house yesterday to tell you about what happened, but?—”

“Let me guess. You forgot. You got busy. It slipped your mind.” Her tone made me feel small. I wanted to melt into the floor.

“I was just trying to make it out to Mr. Griffith’s house in time, and I had some errands to run for him in between.”

“Well, it looks like you made a good impression. The Griffith family wants you full-time.”

I froze. “What?”

She threw a pen at me. “Do you want the job or not?”

I started scribbling my name on the dotted line before she finished her sentence. “Yes. Um, of course. Yes. Please. Yes.”

Full time? My bank account would be so freaking happy. And with Ray? I would be with him full time? My ovaries did a little dance.

“You’ll live at Mr. Griffith’s house. Saturday and Sunday are your days off, so feel free to leave if you want. Otherwise, you’ll be expected to be there to assist at all times. Read over the liabilities clause, the code of conduct, and review the compensation breakdown.”

Peggy was quiet as I worked through each page, signing and dating as needed. I paused when I got to the compensation breakdown, and my eyes bugged out.

That was more money than I had ever made in my entire life. I’d be paid every week, and my living expenses would be covered since I would be at his house.

I’d still need to keep my room at my house, just in case, but this was…

This was a game changer.

I couldn’t let myself think the job would last me the entire two years I needed to make it through. But maybe I could save up enough and coast into my trust fund when I turned twenty-five.

I left the office feeling like an unbearable weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

Peggy’s last marching orders had been to go to my place and pack up all the things I wanted to have when I moved into Ray’s house. I usually would have been expected at Ray’s house this afternoon, but I had been given the day off to get my affairs in order.

Not that I had many affairs to get in order.

I had a backpack that doubled as a suitcase and a reusable grocery bag that held my toiletries. It wouldn’t take me long to pack. I could get back to the ranch before dark.

Cars were lined up in the driveway and on the street in front of the house. I had to park a block away and hoof it up the cracked sidewalk filled with overgrown weeds. Beer cans and liquor bottles littered the lawn.

I didn’t bother pulling my key out. The door was cracked open. Bodies were strewn about the living room. The whole place reeked of old takeout that was fermenting on the counter, weed, and alcohol. A trash bag had been tied to the door handle because the garbage can was overflowing. It looked like they hadtried to use it as a basketball goal, but none of the trash actually made it into the bag.

“Staceeeee.” Nick lifted his head off the stained rug in the middle of the living room floor. He was barely coherent. “What’s up? You missed a hell of a party last night.” His eyes couldn’t focus on one spot in particular.

I stepped around the assortment of bodies in various states of undress and made a beeline for the stairs. “Looks like it.”

“Where ya going?” he called.

“To pack!” I hollered down.

“Pack?” he mumbled as he lumbered up the stairs. “Pack for what?”

I paid him no mind as he slumped in my doorway while I shoved clothes into my backpack. “A client wants me full time. I’ll be there during the week and back here on the weekends.”

“You’re not living here anymore?”

“I’ll still live here. I just won’t sleep here every night.”

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