Page 109 of Saved By My Buyers

There’s thin, and then there’s sick, which is what I was from lack of nourishment, because I wasn’t eating enough.

His mismatched eyes are warm and content at whatever he sees as he looks down at me, and then his lips brush mine. God do I love that he can do that.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working instead of making out?” the guy with all the tattoos asks. I found out his name is Ivan, and the girl he was with is named Arina. They’ve been in and out of the school together all day, but he’s alone now.

I give Jack a look that asks the Lord to give me patience before I smooth my features into a look of professionalism.

“I happen to no longer be working today,” I tell him. The school closes at four today, which is why he’s one of the last people in the building. “I also believe that question is inappropriate.”

“It was,” Jack growls. “I was bringing her something for her interview.”

“Why would she be interviewing for a job she already has? I don’t believe that’s how it works, old man,” Ivan says with a laugh.

“Boy, I could erase you from existence,” Jack says, eyes narrowing. “You will be nice to my girl, or you will find yourself with a zero balance bank account and Immigration at your door. Is that understood?”

Ivan pales even as he shakes his head. “I was born here, you can’t do that,” he rasps.

“I can make the computers think whatever the fuck I want them to,” Jack grunts. “Stop being a jerk.”

“Dee, we’re ready for you,” Sullivan says, walking into the lobby. “Ivan, did you need something, or are you simply harassing people?”

“Nah, can’t do that to people who won’t be here long enough to make a difference,” he says, taking a step back to head for the exit.

“Ah, you may want to rephrase that. She’s about to go in for an interview with the board, which I can tell you is simply a formality at best,” Sullivan grunts, unimpressed with Ivan. “Dee is going to be a student here, you may as well get used to her sticking around. Hey, Jack.”

“Hey,” Jack grunts, handing him my notebook. “I just managed to make it by. Everything going well?”

“Yes,” Sullivan says with a nod. “Dee is amazing. I haven’t had to deal with a single call that didn’t legitimately need me. She’s a fucking godsend.”

“I feel like I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary,” I say honestly as Ivan snorts obnoxiously. “I’m sorry, did you need something, Ivan?”

Sullivan told me not to be rude, but I don’t have to deal with Ivan’s attitude toward me while off the clock, right?

“I’ve been insulted and threatened while standing here. I think I’m the one who’s been wronged,” Ivan complains.

“Ivan, if Jack threatened you, then it was because you were a dick to his girlfriend,” Sullivan says with a shrug. “Maybe don’t do that. Jack’s not a great person to be on the wrong side of.”

“Wait, you mean he can really get me deported even though I was born in America?” Ivan gasps.

“Yeah,” Sullivan says with a snort. “He manages the security of this building. When is the last time you’ve been harassed by a photographer or media reporter? Jack makes that possible. Don’t fuck around, and then complain that you wrote checks your mouth can’t cover.”

Ivan blinks as he tries to figure out what that means before walking out of the building.

“Well, that escalated,” I murmur.

Jack chuckles as he wraps his arm around my shoulder, and we walk toward the conference room, where the board is gathering.

“I was trying to let you figure it out, but then realized that Jack would put me out of business in an effort to school the snot-nosed kids, I teach a lesson,” Sullivan says with a sigh. “Ivan is really talented, but is an asshole. I think it’s a precondition for some musicians.”

My lips twitch as I walk, wondering if it may be. Having a musical gift that you spend your life practicing and cultivating to perform at your best has to give people a certain degree of entitlement, right? All I want is to be able to learn enough to write songs.

I wish people would realize how lucky they are.

“Knock ‘em dead, baby,” Jack says as we arrive at the door.

“Thank you,” I murmur, taking a deep breath as I walk into the room.

Ready or not, here I come.

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