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“Well, you trained in Paris at the Culinary Institute, and I assume that was for a couple of years?”
“Oh, yeah. Well, after I finished my training, I worked at a couple of restaurants, but then I decided to come back to Port Sunshine, because my parents and siblings are here, and well… you know…”
“Certainly. I understand you wanted to look after them.”
“Yeah, exactly. I needed to take care of them,” I lied.
“Okay. Well, are you able to come in for an interview tomorrow?”
“Sure. What time?” I asked quickly.
“Let’s say nine a.m.?”
“Okay. Sounds good. Your sister won’t mind?”
“Well, she’s currently working for a very private and very famous family on Cape Cod.”
“Okay,” I said, wondering if she was trying to hint that everyone she and her family worked for was famous. “Can I ask you a quick question?” I said softly.
“Certainly, Harriet. What would that be?”
“Should I brush up on any movies or TV shows, or listen to any particular music before the interview?” There was silence on the other line.Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I thought to myself. It’s totally a famous actor or musician, and she’s scared that she’s let the cat out of the bag.
“No, I don’t think that will be necessary, Harriet.”
“Okay,” I said. “Well, just wanted to check. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Indeed,” she said and hung up.
I jumped up, ran toward the mirror, and looked at my reflection. I looked a bit rough because it’d been a rough morning, but I could see the excitement in my eyes. I was in the running to be the housekeeper for an A-list star. Like super A-list. I’d always heard that A-list stars came to Port Sunshine, but I’d never met them. They didn’t hang out in the same circles as me, and they didn’t come to the coffee shop. They sent their assistants to pick up their coffee because, well, that was what A-list stars did. But I was going to be working for one now, God willing.
I bit down on my lower lip as I thought about the lies that I had told. Michelin-star chef, loved cleaning, trained under Gordon Ramsay. “Oh my God, what if it’s David Beckham?” I said to myself. David Beckham was friends with Gordon Ramsay. What if he called Gordon Ramsay and asked him for a recommendation? I could feel my heart racing. But no, David Beckham could not be living in Port Sunshine. I could not see Posh Spice in my little town, no matter how many people loved it. I took a deep breath.
I didn’t really want to be a live-in housekeeper, but the pay sounded amazing, and it would kill so many birds with one stone. I just needed to do it to get through the summer, and if I were lucky enough to get the art grant I wanted to apply for, then I would be okay. I could leave the job, and I wouldn’t feel that bad about it because how long did housekeepers stay in these positions? Right now, I had to think about myself.
I took a deep breath and headed to the kitchen. I was hungry, and I wanted to make sure that I ate all my food before I left the house, seeing as I only had one more week to live there, and I had a bunch of frozen pizzas that I bought at Walmart because they were on sale for a dollar each. I switched on the oven, took out a pepperoni pizza that was more like cardboard, and groaned. What if I got the job and was expected to make fancy meals? What was I going to do?
But then I thought about all the A-list stars that I knew, or rather, that I had heard of. None of them stayed too long in one place. How realistic was it that this star would be there for a long time? I just had to fake it for a couple of days, maybe a week or so, and they’d be jetting back to New York, Milan, France, or wherever they came from. And I could clean. Sure, I wasn’t the best cleaner, but shit, if they weren’t there, I could get help. If I was getting paid a couple hundred dollars a day, I could easily afford to subcontract someone else to do some work for me. My heart slowed down a little bit. It was going to be okay. I didn’t need to worry just yet. I needed to get the job first.
My eyes flashed as I thought about the guy in the coffee shop. I wished that I’d thrown his coffee on him now. I couldn’t believe he’d been so rude to me. He thought he’d ruled the world just because he’d been rich and attractive. And yeah, sure, maybe the coffee hadn’t been from Rwanda, but he didn’t know that for sure. Neither did I. I didn’t know where Dunkin’ Donuts got their coffee beans from. In fact, I had half a mind to email them and ask… and then if they said they had some beans from Rwanda, I had half a mind to sue Charlotte for firing me.
“You’re an idiot, Harriet,” I mumbled as I picked up my dirty dishes. I knew there was no way I’d win in a court of law after the way I’d acted on my last day.
ChapterFive
Checking Account Balance: $180 (new stockings, Starbucks coffee—irony—romance book)
Savings Account Balance: $10
Boyfriend Count: 0.5 (Do book boyfriends count?)
“So, what should I wear tomorrow?” I asked Polly and Chelsea as they stood in my bedroom. They’d rushed over to help me choose an outfit when I told them I had an interview for a job. My sisters loved to tease me joke around, but they always had my back.
“You need to look really mature,” Chelsea said and stared at me up and down. “I wonder if you can dye your hair.”
“What do you mean, dye my hair? Like, blond or something?” I looked at my dark, curly hair in the mirror.
“No, like if you could add some gray or something. Make you look a bit more, well, older.”
