One
ANYA
“Oh god,” I say as I stare at another job listing to work at a life-sucking call center. It’s late at night, and my wrist is tired from holding my phone.
But I’m desperate to find something. I really need to help out my friend and roommate, John.
The thought circles my mind for the hundredth time today as I lie sprawled on John’s threadbare couch, the springs digging into my back painfully. The dim light from my phone screen illuminates my face in the dark apartment.
I clutch the worn blanket, trying to ignore the cold. Three months jobless, living on John’s couch, and feeling like a failure.
The apartment smells like stale pizza and socks. A fitting aroma for my life right now. I scroll mindlessly through job listings, each one more depressing than the last.
My thumb pauses mid-swipe as a notification pops up. Probably another rejection email from that bookstore I applied to last week. I tap it open without much hope, only tosee it’s just my phone telling me I’m down to fifteen percent battery. Great.
I sigh and roll onto my side, careful not to disturb the couch’s most aggressive spring that’s right below my hip. The blanket slips off one shoulder, exposing my skin to the apartment’s persistent chill. My friend, John, keeps the thermostat at sixty-two degrees to save on bills, which I can hardly complain about since I’m not contributing a dime.
Three months ago, I had a job at a local coffee shop. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid enough to rent a room in a shared apartment. Then the place closed down without notice, the owner skipping town with everyone’s final paychecks. Since then, it’s been a parade of one-day gigs and dead ends. A weekend helping someone move. Three days of filing paperwork for an accountant who decided she didn’t need the help after all. A week dog-sitting for a couple who paid me half of what they promised.
Now I’m broke. Laundry two days ago took my last five dollars.
I need money.
I continue scrolling, my eyes growing heavy with each swipe. Then suddenly, I see the perfect job:
Private island resort hiring live-in staff. Immediate start.
Wait, this looks fun…
I sit up so fast that the ancient couch groans in protest. The listing is sparse on details but mentions full room and board plus a competitive salary. The location is simply listed as “Wolf Isle Resort.”
My heart pounds as I read it again. Live-in staff. Immediate start. Room and board. It sounds too good to be true.But what do I have to lose at this point?
Before I can talk myself out of it, I quickly tap the ‘contactemployer’ button. It provides a phone number rather than an email address.
I type out a text with shaking fingers:
“Hello, I’m interested in the live-in staff position advertised. My name is Anya Rosewood, and I have experience in customer service and hospitality. I’m available to start immediately.”
I hit send before I can second-guess myself, then drop my phone on my chest, staring up at the water-stained ceiling. They probably won’t even respond.
My phone buzzes against my sternum, making me jump. No way. It’s been less than a minute. I quickly pick up my phone and open the message eagerly:
“Hello, Anya. Thank you for your interest. The position involves housekeeping, meal prep assistance, and general resort maintenance. Pay is $3000/month plus room and board. We have flights available this week if you’re interested. All expenses covered for travel.”
My breath catches in my throat.Three thousand a month? Plus, no rent or food costs?What the hell?!This would be the best-paying job I’d ever apply to. I type backimmediately:
“I’m definitely interested. What documentation do you need from me? When could I start?”
The response comes back just as quickly:
“We require basic ID and work eligibility verification. We have a flight available tomorrow afternoon at 2 PM if that works for you. A private helicopter will transport you from the mainland to the island.”
A helicopter? My heart races. This can’t be real. Things like this don’t happen to people like me.
“Tomorrow would be perfect. Thank you for this opportunity.”
“Excellent. Please arrive at Coastal Heliport by 1:30 PM. Bring ID and any personal items that you may need. We provide uniforms and necessities. Address: 4500 Harbor Way, Pier 12. Ask for Wolf Isle transport.”
