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“I know what you’re thinking,” she interrupts, and I raise an eyebrow.
"You do?”
“Yeah. Obviously,” she says. “I know I can’t stay here forever rent free. So, I’m going to pay you rent until I find a place to stay. We can draft up a contract and you tell me how much the rent will be.”
“You’re not going to be able to afford it,” I tell her, even though it’s admirable that she wants to try.
She frowns. “How do you know?’
“Because usually ‘used to work at a restaurant’ doesn’t have a high earning potential.”
She narrows her eyes and her temper flashes in her face. “Ok, so you’re just assuming that I don’t have money to pay you.”
“Precisely.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, then. I have money saved up. How much does it cost?”
“Three thousand a month,” I say, and she pales. "And that's a steal for this area with the private pond and everything. I'm not even going into electricity, gas, etc. And how are you going to afford that and pay for my car damage too?"
The spirit leaves her face and her shoulders sag. She sighs and rubs her face. “Fine. I'll leave, then. Just let me clean everything—”
“Hang on,” I say and release a breath. “Look, just at least stay for the month. Okay?"
She shakes her head. "But I can't afford it…”
“Listen, this is what we'll do…" Regardless of everything, I can't kick her out. I'm not that heartless yet. "Why don't we make a deal? You'll stay here for a month rent-free and in return, you'll have to clean and take care of the property. Also, cook for me every once in a while. I plan to be here at least once a day for more of that." I nod toward the empty plate and she blushes.
"That still doesn't seem like enough," she says.
"Trust me, I eat like a freight when it's good food. I've hired cooks before but they just don't make it how I like." Good homegrown southern food is an art few in this metropolitan city can conquer. "But you do. So, how about it? This way you can focus all your energy on getting a new job."
She seems to think about it for a few seconds and then nods. "Alright. We can do that. Just tell me my duties."
She passes me another bagel sandwich and any further talking is postponed until I'm done enjoying the delicacy.
Later, it occurs to me that any other woman would have played the damsel in distress and capitalize on the ankle injury to be able to stay longer, yet she was willing to pack her bags and leave even though she would be out on the streets.
She surprises me at every step. She looks honest enough.
Still, maybe she is using smoke and mirrors with me. Maybe I’m being taken for a ride. But somehow I can’t bring myself to care.
Chapter Five
Delilah
“So,”hesays,ashe puts down his cup of coffee, halfway into his third egg and bacon bagel. “Tell me your plan.”
I blink at him. “Plan for what?”
“Getting a job,” he says. “Or do you not have a plan about that?”
“I have a plan,” I shoot back defensively, but then a thought suddenly occurs to me. I need to refresh my resume, but two quick dismissals won't look good. And I doubt any of my prior bosses will give me good references. So, that will make it difficult to find a new job.
Not counting the fact that I don't have a college degree. I went to culinary school too, but I had to drop out halfway through because I couldn't afford the tuition.
Restaurants around here can be pretty snobby about the cooks they hire. I had to work as a waitress for nearly a year the first time before I got a chance to go out back. I'm a pretty good cook, I know I am. But it will be hard to prove it, and it's going to take me looking into a lot of places to get hired.
It dawns on me with alarming alacrity. I’m jobless and homeless. And I might be for a while.
