Page 300 of Small Town Firsts
I had a feeling I’d need all the help I could get walking into that office this morning.
Hair and makeup was going to have to wait. My thick ebony waves were going to be too hot later, but that was what messy buns were for.
I stopped at my kitchen table and found a note leaning against my favorite crocheted bag.
I figured you would need a little help with the morning.
Xoxo,
Lu
Inside my huge black bag were my glasses, emergency bag, deck of tarot cards, and snacks. As well as my favorite sloth tea diffuser and three baggies of tea. There were two more pouches on the bottom of the bag, but I didn’t have time to look closer.
“Bless you, Lu.”
Taking no chances, I folded up my backup ballet flats and tucked them away in my purse. Then I grabbed the bag and flew out the door. Driving would take longer than walking with morning traffic. Never mind trying to find a damn parking spot in Kensington Square.
I cut through the shortcut and was glad to see the kids weren’t outside playing today. The sun was too hot for blacktop kickball. They were probably down at the community pool.
I faltered as the bakery came into sight.
Bribe?
Nope. No way was I testing the gods again there.
I crossed the street to the Shaws’ office building and hurried inside, my heels clicking on the tiled floor of the lobby.
Dread filled my belly as I took the elevator to their floor. Seventeen after the hour.
Late again.
I glanced down at my hands and groaned. I was still covered in paint and ink. “Way to go, Ry,” I muttered just as the doors opened.
The elder Shaw was waiting for me. Or the elevator. But he got me.
Ugh.
“Miss Moon, you are late.”
“Aware.”
The older man—who looked far too much like PMS in a slimy, slick, distrustful way—arched a brow at me. “No excuse?”
I flipped my heavy fall of hair over my shoulder. “Would you believe it if I had one?”
His chin lifted. “I understand you’re only a temp, but two days in a row is unprofessional.”
“How do you know I was late yesterday? I don’t punch a time clock.”
He said nothing.
PMS had ratted me out. Good to know.
“Not the only way you’ve been unprofessional,” he added as if I’d not questioned him at all.
I could literally feel every one of my vertebrae locking into place as I stood up straighter. “Is that right?”
“April is an exemplary employee, and my son took her word that you would be a good fit. She was clearly mistaken.”
