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“Sounds nice. I didn’t really know any of them since they were a few years ahead of us in school, so it would be nice to get reacquainted,” she said.
They would all love her, I knew that much. Most people loved Natalie.
I finished my ice cream and we got back on the highway.
The air was so much cooler now that we were making our way up the coast toward Maine. It was such a relief.
Natalie got a message on her phone and seemed excited when she read it.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Looks like I have an interview for a nanny job next week. One little boy for a family that just moved to Castleton. It sounds perfect. I can’t tell one hundred percent, but they sound rich. Says the dad is some sort of executive that travels, and the mom is a brand strategist.”
“What the hell is a brand strategist?” I asked.
“I have no idea, it sounds like a made-up career,” she said.
“Technically all careers are made up, but I see your point.”
I bet Paige would know what it was.
I was pleased that she had a lead on a job.
“Do you ever think about doing something different?” she asked.
“I mean, I have no idea what I would do. I’m not qualified for anything. And I wouldn’t be able to get away with fucking around during the day if I worked for someone else. I hate my job, but there are perks, you know?”
It really wasn’t all bad. I could generally get through the week.
“But what if something else was better?” she asked.
“I mean, what if something else was worse? I’d rather rely on a steady paycheck.”
“That makes sense,” she said. “But you could still see what’s out there.”
I saw firsthand the stress that Paige went through as a freelancer. Sure, she made her own schedule, but that meant she could literally work all the damn time, and sometimes she did. She’d gotten a lot better lately, but still. Due to pressure from Paige, Esme had finally cut her hours back at the bar and was a lot happier.
“You should make up your own career,” Natalie said.
“Freelance Shell Strategist,” I said.
“Independent Shell Sourcer,” Natalie said.
We went back and forth inventing pretend careers until both of us were laughing.
“Whatever, I don’t want to talk about work,” I said.
“Me neither,” she agreed. “Want to hear about the murder that happened while I was in Arizona?”
Not really, but I knew she wanted to tell me, so I nodded.
Natalie was a great storyteller. She used dramatic voices and pauses and could really paint a picture.
“You could have your own podcast,” I said. “You know enough, you wouldn’t even have to do any research.”
She shook her head. “No way. There are actual professionals doing those podcasts.”
If I didn’t have my eyes on the road, I would have glared at her.
