“Here you go. I’m sorry I forgot to ask your name,” the nice lady says, holding out three bags. Finally, making me look away.
“It’s Colt, and this is Ollie.” Shifting him higher on my shoulder, I reach for the bags, unsure I can get them all without waking him. But the man takes them from her and just nods.
“Thanks, but you don’t need to do that.”
“No worries. I’ll help you to your car.”
“Oh, Mr. Murphy, I can get one of the boys to carry that out for him.”
“I’ll do it,” he says firmly to the nice lady before turning to me. “I need to tell you about the job anyway.”
“Okay.” I have a feeling that even if I told him no thanks, he would follow me out anyway.
I head to my car. It isn’t much to look at, but it’s cheap and reliable. It’s an older two-door hatchback. Mr. Murphy’s clothes tell me he drives something that costs twenty times as much as my car. Material things have never meant much to me.
After my parents joined the Children of the Fallen, we lived on next to nothing. Most of the time, the followers ate in large groups under the guise of fellowship, but really, it was to pool resources. Even at sixteen, I could see it for what it was: a money grab for the leadership. It still baffles me why my parents joined.
“This is me. Just put those on the back seat.”
Mr. Murphy opens the passenger door and looks around the car before straightening.
“Are you living in your car?” His face scrunches up like he smells something bad. The judgmental prick. I glance at the back seat. I grimace when I see the mess. Ollie’s toys are all over the place. I forgot to clean up the crumbs and empty the juice box from lunch.
“No,” I say tersely, even though it’s none of his business. “We have a place for now. As I said earlier, we just got to town, so I need to find a job and a permanent place to live. You mentioned available work? I’m looking for freelance work. Ollie’s never really been away from me, and I don’t want him in daycare right now. So if remote isn’t what you had in mind, I understand.” I need a job, but something about this man puts me on edge.
“Bring the baby with you tomorrow.”
He pulls a card from his pocket and hands it to me. I take it. I can always not show up tomorrow. Then I see the company’s name. Murphy Enterprises. This guy works for one of the world’slargest companies. If I can freelance for them, it could be my ticket to safety.
“Give me your résumé.”
Bossy much? I pop the seat forward and gently place the still-sleeping Ollie into his car seat. I’ll buckle him in before I leave.
My résumé lists actual clients, but since I’ve always worked remotely and under a business name, I chose ones I never met in person. They’re from several different states and have no idea where I was living at the time. I grab a copy from my messenger bag and hand it to him.
“Colton Harris.” He reads my name from the top.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Murphy. That’s me.” Harris isn’t my real last name, but I’m not telling him that.
“Ronan.” He has his head down, so I don’t quite catch what he is saying.
“I’m sorry?”
“My name is Ronan. I want you to call me Ronan.”
“Okay… Ronan, it is. Thank you for the opportunity. I’ll do my best not to disappoint you.” I’m not even sure what the job is yet, but I need the money. So I hold out my hand. If the little blue loading circle computers get when they freeze were real, it would be spinning across his forehead right now.
For a second, he just stares at my hand like he has to process what it means. Then he reaches out. His hand swallows mine whole. I expect it to be smooth, soft, the kind of hand that belongs to someone who spends all day behind a computer screen. Instead, there are calluses against my skin.
His hand is warm too, warmer than it should be, and the heat of it crawls up my arm in a way I can’t explain. He doesn’t let go right away. But then, neither do I.
“Be at the address on the card at nine,” he says. “Give the receptionist your name.”
And then he’s gone, leaving me standing there with his business card in one hand and absolutely no idea what the hell just happened.
Chapter 3
Ronan
