Page 25 of Of Blood and Smoke

Tapping my pen against the paper, I said, “Right there. That’s too many zeros or something, right?”

“Oh. No, that’s correct. For a minute there I thought you were going to complain it wasn’t enough.”

My eyebrows shot up. “What? No. Its seriously twenty-five thousanda month?”

She nodded. “Yes, that is correct. Sign, please, we have things to do.”

Twenty-five thousand a month.

My head felt like it was going to detach and float away.Twenty-five thousand a month.

As a glorified secretary.

What kind of place was this? “I don’t have to kill babies or something, do I?”

“The men should’ve gone over this more thoroughly with you. Here at Ipomoea, we value loyalty and fidelity. Our rate of compensation is so high because working here is one of the best jobs you can get. Where else will you get all the benefits we provide? I know you know it's super rare—if it even exists anywhere else.”

She started taking my papers away the second I placed my signature on them.

“People rarely leave and if they do, it's because they didn’t follow our very simple rules. It’s listed there,” she tapped a painted fingernail on a sheet to my right, “and they’re easy to follow. Don’t tell anyone what we do beyond simple things like data entry and phone calls. Dress professionally, arrive on time, follow directions immediately, do not miss work except for emergencies, and do NOT make eye contact with either Mister Calthia or Mister Ipomoea or other members of upper management. Got it?”

“Okay,” I replied quietly, my head still buzzing.

Twenty-five thousand a month was life changing money. I couldn’t wait to call Ashley, and I was dying to tell my father, even though he wouldn’t be able to hear me. Or maybe he would, on some level? No matter, I was going to let him know.

Ashley had her second interview today as well, but at a different time than mine. Her salary was probably similar, and I couldn’t wait to ask her.

“Bank details,” Christina said, holding out her hand.

“It's in the pile.”

She stood up. “Okay, let’s get you familiarized. Don’t forget to quit your job at the call center.”

My gaze darted upward.

“It's expected you’ll only work for us. It's in the agreement,” she stated, rolling her eyes at me. “No one ever reads the whole thing.”

I followed her out the door and we took a tour. A desk that hadn’t been there when I’d arrived was in the same area as hers, separated by a brand-new wall. How did that wall get there? The desk? Shaking my head, I continued after her, convinced I was in a dream yet again.

She gave me codes for the elevator, for the doors—after she downloaded an app to my phone. The numbers were entered and saved automatically.

The employee break area was massive and operated like a restaurant or buffet, complete with tables and booths. There was a gym and a library, a walk-in clinic, indoor swimming pool and garden, and guest studio apartments.

“Do you ever go home? Looks like there’s no need,” I remarked with a laugh.

Christina grinned at me. “Of course I do. All these extras come in handy if there’s a time crunch or a big new release, stuff like that. Eventually, you’ll probably make use of all of it.”

She gave me another look. “By the way—your first shift starts right now.”

It took quite a while for her to show me and my dazed self around. We didn’t go to the underground levels where the production rooms were, but she assured me they were there. When we arrived back upstairs, she directed me to my desk and a technician came and set up a laptop before installing a phone on the left-hand side of the massive hard wood desk.

When he finished, I sat there for several moments, taking it all in. It seemed unreal that I’d been slaving away in a diner and at a call center, and now I was here with a beautiful desk, a laptop, and my own fancy faux cubicle. It wasn’t quite a cubicle, but not an office either, but definitely my own space.

A deep sigh left me just as a figure came into my line of vision. The tall, lean form and dark hair caught my eye. It was Josiah and I quickly averted my gaze, dragging my eyes down the shoulder of his fine suit, slim hips, and shiny shoes.

He walked over, stopping in front of my desk and resting his fingertips on the edge. The desire to glance up was overwhelming, but I focused on his incredibly shiny nails instead.

“I trust you find everything to your liking?” he asked me.

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