“Are you offering me a job?”
I came to the city for a job. I’m determined to leave with one.
At any cost.
“It depends,” he says. “Can you offer me the same services, terms, and agreements you were going to offer Randy as his concierge?”
“Of course.” I fight the rush of crimson that tries to consume my entire body, never knowing it was possible to blush from head to toe. My gut tells me I’ve no idea what I’m agreeing to, but I have no other choice. Flipping burgers back home and babysitting for local neighborhood families isn’t going to fill my bank account with the kind of money I need to secure my future and ensure I don’t end up married off to Cortland or any other polygamous asshole.
I need a real job, and this man is offering me one.
“When can you start?”
“Just like that, you’re hiring me?” I try to hide the excitement in my tone, but my words are rushed, and my lips are twisted into a smile. “You don’t want to interview me first? Check my references?”
“I don’t need to check your references. The fact that Randy Mutchler wanted you tells me all I need to know.” He leans back, cocking his elbow against the bar. Our bodies are perfectly aligned though I’m not sure about our intentions. “He’s a very particular man. I’m sure he’s run you through a battery of tests.”
Now would be a great time to tell him I’m a dirty, rotten liar.
“Can I think about it?” If I jump all over this chance, the way I want to, he’ll call my bluff, and this’ll all be over.
“What’s there to think about?” His dark brow rises while the other one slants.
“Salary. Benefits.”
Dane smirks. “Randy’s a cheap bastard. I can assure you anything he’s offered you will be paltry compared to my compensation package.”
My heart races and then pounds hard until I hear it whooshing in my ears.
“How much was he offering you?” His brows meet.
“Fifteen,” I say, meaning fifteen dollars per hour.
“I’ll give you twenty.” He doesn’t hesitate. “Twenty grand per month to start. It’s not negotiable.”
My entire being tenses as I try to play it cool. I’m screaming on the inside, jumping, flipping, and cartwheeling from here to the Catalina Islands.
“Twenty is fine.”
“You’ll start Monday.” There’s finality in his voice as if he’s signaling that this discussion is over, and it’s over because he says it is. His grey-blue eyes flicker and settle before he rises from his bar stool.
“And what is it I’ll be doing for you exactly?”
“Everything you were going to be doing for Randy.” He reaches into his left breast pocket and pulls out his card, our fingers grazing as we exchange the thick cardstock embossed with his company’s logo. His other hand works his wallet from his suit jacket. He turns for a moment to pull out a crisp, one-hundred dollar bill and presses it into the bar top. “Your champagne is on me. I’ll see you next week.”
TWO
BELLAMY
“I got the job.” I drop my bag on the kitchen island where two of my three mothers are chopping fruit for what looks like a bowl of ambrosia. My current state of excitement completely overrides the fact that I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into. “Just like I said I would.”
Summer, my father’s second wife, glances up at me before shooting a look at my mother, Jane. She says nothing but her look says it all. They disapprove of me wanting to work outside the house. The only reason my father agreed was because I suggested I could work for a few months to save up money for my future wedding, which he believes will be happening soon now that I’m courting Cortland. Ultimately, my mothers’ ideas of a woman’s role involve birthing babies and cleaning house while remaining faithful and loyal to their dominant husbands.
“That’s great, sweetie.” My mom’s voice is as fake as the red lipstick she wore at dinner when Cortland visited last week.
“You’re really happy for me, Mom?”
I know she’s not, but I want to hear her lie one more time if only to prove that everybody does it.
“Of course.”
She’s definitely a liar. Not unlike myself today. That and she doesn’t want to say something that could warrant a private talk from my father after dinner about morals and sinning. It turns into a whole church sermon by the time he’s done.
Those are annoying.
His talks require taking a seat in his den and listening to him lecture while appearing agreeable and remorseful for having thoughts that didn’t jive with the way he ran his family.
Kath, his third wife, had it the worst. She wasn’t raised with the confines of AUB teachings. Polygamy was new to her. This religion was new to her. She learned after the first year to stop questioning so much and to just submit.
“Where are you working again?” Summer asks as if I haven’t already told them a million times.
“Some corporation in Salt Lake City. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.” My mind goes to the script on the business card. “Townsend Energy Holdings. They’re a renewable energy organization.”
Sadly, that’s the only thing I know. I’d Google him if I could.
But I can’t. My father has a Christian internet filter installed on my laptop. I can only access religious and educational websites.
“Oh, so like solar energy? Wind energy?” Summer dumps a handful of chopped pineapple into a bowl of marshmallows.
“Exactly.” I nod, wearing the confident expression I summoned from the depths of my liar-liar-pants-on-fire soul.
“Don’t get too attached to this job,” Mom says through half-pursed lips. Her nose scrunches as she shoots me a look. “You know it’s only temporary. Once you marry Cortland, he may not want you working outside the home.”
These fools really believe I’m going to marry Cortland.
“Yes, I know. I’m just saving money for my future. For our future.” I lean my elbows against the counter. “If it’s God’s will that I marry Cortland, we’ll have a beautiful wedding and a nice war chest to start our life with. And this gives me something to channel my energy into for the time being. I hate to be one of those girls who obsess over their future husband, you know? Like Holly Dwyers from church. Remember her? And that man ended up deciding not to marry her in the end. That girl needed a hobby outside of courting.”
“Cortland came into your life at just the right time. I’ve been saying for months now that it’s time for you to meet someone, Bellamy,” Summer says. Her eyes light up and mist at the same time. “No one deserves to be lonely.”
News flash, I’m not lonely. Finding a man is the least of my concerns.
“I can’t wait for you to have babies.” Summer grins ear to ear like my future is playing before her eyes on some imaginary movie screen. “You’re so good with the kids. You’re going to be a great mother. I just know it.”
“I’m just glad she’ll be a first wife,” my mother interjects, her eyes on me. “Firstborns are stubborn and headstrong. Bellamy would never do well as number two or three or, God-forbid, four. Can you imagine Bellamy being that far down the chain of command?”
“Is that how you think of us, Jane?” Summer leans against the counter, her smile fading. “As numbers? Less superior than yourself?”
They bicker like sisters sometimes, though I suppose that’s basically what they are: sisters with a spiritual bond who share a husband.
Totally normal.
Everybody does it.
Psh.
“You know that’s not what I meant. I was simply stating an observation about my daughter,” my mother fires back.
“Our daughter,” Summer reminds her.
I slip out unnoticed and trek up to my room to slip out of my pencil skirt and button down. My hand traces the lines of the calendar hanging above my desk. I lift a few pages until I get to August.
Four more months.
I did the math in the car on the way home.
All I need is four more months, and then I should be able to afford a place for my eighteen-year-old sister, Waverly, and myself to stay while we figure things out, because I’m taking her with me. If my father is itching to marry me off, she’s going to be next. She’s about to graduate from high school. I can’t leave her behind. And someday we’ll come back for the others.