AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Cara, I swear…”
Chest still shaking with laughter, Cooper steps up and reaches down for me. Call me stubborn, but I don’t want his help. “Get away from me.”
“Suit yourself,” he says, stepping back while I rock the tub from side to side, spilling out the water.
“Hold his collar. He’s friendly,” Cara says to Cooper, and he takes Twist while she comes to help me.
The tub tips over on its side, and I try to bend myself in half as much as possible to get my ass out. “You look like a tipped over turtle, I can’t,” Cara says, tears running down her face.
“I’ve never seen a human fold like a lawn chair,” Cooper adds.
In case this wasn’t enough witnesses to my humiliation, Pops walks around the corner as Cara tugs me by an arm and a leg. Finally, the tub slides away.
“Maren Eliza Kline, what in the red hell did you do?”
“It was the stupid dog!” I’m soaked from head to toe. Dead grass clings to the mud smeared over my skin.
“Twister strikes again,” Cara says. “Trailer parks are never safe.”
It’s hard to be mad when everyone is fighting the urge to laugh and not very successfully. My lips betray me, tilting up. “I was having such a good day.”
They all crack up again as I slog my way over to the back door. This is all that slumlord’s fault…somehow.
After a long warm shower, I get dressed with the intention of cleaning up the mess I left and covering the playset with a tarp until I can get back to it. Instead, I step into the living room to see Cooper sitting beside Cara on the couch while Pops lounges in his recliner across from him.
“What are you still doing here?”
“We didn’t finish our conversation.”
“Yes, we did. I said no. Or are you under the impression that a conversation doesn’t end until you get your way?”
The little half smile that appears on his face probably gets him what he wants more often than not. “I do like to get my way.”
I’m not impressed. I’m not going to be taken in by shapely, full lips, some dark scruff, and tanned muscles. Not again. I’ve learned my lesson. The egos on good looking guys are ridiculous even if they have the hygiene of a stray dog and no personality, skills, or talent. A guy with this kind of money and power as well? No way.
“Well, let me know how that works out for you, Junior.”
Cara covers a choked laugh.
As I turn to retreat to my room, he asks, “How much do you make at your night job?”
My mouth opens to tell him it’s none of his damn business, but Cara blurts out, “Ten dollars an hour.” She gives a sheepish shrug when I shoot her a betrayed look.
He stands up and faces me. “I’ll double that.”
Sighing, I rub my head that’s beginning to hurt from a lack of sleep. It’s not like I’m considering it, but now I’m curious. “What exactly are you looking for someone to do?”
“I want to open the office building so tenants have a person to go to for questions and maintenance requests. I need someone to manage the repair appointments and maintain a list of new requests from tenants. Also, you’d occasionally be accompanying the various contractors and tradesmen while they work if the tenant doesn’t feel comfortable letting them in.”
“So instead of doing your job, you’re hiring someone to do it for you.”
“It’s not a one man job. There’s a ton of work to be done and this whole thing will be a much smoother process if I’m not answering my phone all day. There’s nothing wrong with delegating.”
He isn’t wrong. Once everyone sees that repairs are actually happening, they’re going to ring his phone day and night. Watching him drown in tasks while he tries to juggle everything is a nice thought, but he’s going to hire someone regardless. With the rapport I have with my neighbors, it wouldn’t be a hard job for me. In fact, I could probably keep my night job and avoid the food delivery side hustle if the hours were right. It would also let me keep an eye on how he’s doing things, and make sure he isn’t half-assing the repairs.
Subtle signs of satisfaction begin to show on his face when he sees that I’m thinking about it. God, I don’t want to give this arrogant man his way. But it’s money I could really use, and I’m not dumb enough to hurt myself to spite him.
“Okay. Part time, twenty hours a week so I can keep my night job.”
