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Good. A respectable move.
I’m not eager for the entire world to know I’m homeless, much less that I’m staying in my car just a few blocks away. I’ll have to thank him for that, too.
The favors I owe this man are piling up, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repay him.
I wait in the doorway of the office while Damon retrieves a manilla envelope from the top drawer of the wide, light wood desk. There’s a flat screen monitor and keyboard sitting neatly in the middle, but aside from a few perfectly stacked pieces of paper, the rest of the desk is empty. It’s neat and tidy, two things I’m definitely not.
There are two filing cabinets in the back corner, and a vibrant painting of an Italian orchard straight ahead. Two chairs sit in front of the desk, and there's a single, lattice-covered accent wall. When Damon hands me the folder, it has JESSA MORROW written in bold black letters across the front, and I can tell by the weight that there’s a hefty amount of paperwork inside for me to fill out.
“So, we’ll see you tomorrow at four,” Damon says cheerfully.
I wish I could be as upbeat as he is all the time. He’s a good balance to Alessandro’s seriousness.
“Right.” I’m already stressing about showing up in the appropriate uniform, but there’s nothing else for me to say. “Thank you.”
If I want to talk to Alessandro about the uniform, I guess I’ll have to come up here early tomorrow and see what we can work out. Maybe he’ll let me work in regular clothes until I can afford to buy everything.
I have some pants that would probably work.No plain black shirts, though.
“See you tomorrow,” I say, my thoughts still churning as I turn out of the office and head for the front door.
Rather than heading back to my car to fill out all the paperwork, I head down the sidewalk to a little coffee shop wedged between towering office buildings.
I spend enough time in the car as it is, and it’ll be nice to see something new, to sit in a comfortable seat with legs outstretched, not worried about being cramped.
The shop is empty, aside from a couple in the corner, and the smell of rich, warm coffee assaults my senses as I take a seat at a small table near the window. After I’m settled, I pull out my pen and the modest stack of paper.
Since I’ve never done this before, I’m not sure what I’m getting myself into, but when my eyes land on the address line, my throat immediately tightens. Embarrassment heats my cheeks, but there’s nothing I can do about it except to put a big, fat N/A as the answer.
I flip through the rest of the papers, which include an employee handbook that I glance over quickly and a smaller, sealed envelope with my name on it.
Without a thought, I rip into it and pull out a single piece of paper. I can tell before unfolding it that it’s handwritten, and when I open it, my stomach drops through my ass to the floor.
Jessa,
This should be enough to cover your uniform. If it’s not, don’t hesitate to let me know.
A. Costa
My heart nearly stops as I look inside the envelope again and see a rectangular piece of plastic.
“He didn’t,” I whisper to myself, barely audible.
I pull out the piece of plastic, flipping it over to examine it with shaky fingers, hoping my gut is wrong.
It’s not.
I’m holding a pre-loaded gift card with no amount listed anywhere on it, and the realization has my stomach turning and cheeks heating again.
The corners of my eyes sting painfully, and tears threaten to well in them for the tenth time this week, but I furiously blink back the sensation.
I refuse to break down. There’s no point, especially in the middle of a coffee shop,alone.
How sad and embarrassing would that be?
Goddamn it.It’s official. I’m never going to be able to repay this man for what he’s done, and I haven’t even started working for him.
I have no idea how much money is on the gift card, but I’m appalled that he trusts me this much. Anyone else might take the money and disappear, never to be heard from again, but he’s confident I’ll use it to buy black clothes and special shoes.
