Big Shot. Katy EvansЧитать онлайн книгу.
brother! Long time no speak. How’s it going? I hope you’re looking after that gem of an assistant of yours.”
I roll my eyes. Kit barely ever gives me an opportunity to speak. It’s usually how I end up doing something for him that I never agreed to. I sense now that if he’s calling me, it must be in aid of getting something from me.
“What do you want, Kit?”
“What? Am I not allowed to call my wonderful brother for a chat now and then? Do you really think so little of me that you believe I’m only calling because I need something from you?”
“Yes.”
Kit laughs. “All right, fair enough. I’ll get down to business. You know it’s Alex’s and my honeymoon next week?”
I nod, even though he can’t see me. He’s not waiting for an answer anyway.
“Well, we’ve been waiting for this for months. After Alex and I got married...well, we thought it was best to save the honeymoon until after the Cupid’s Arrow relaunch. Then Rosie came along, and we’ve wanted to have some time with her. So we’ve planned for this a lot. We had a babysitter set up. It took us months of interviews to find someone we were comfortable leaving her with. But she’s had a family emergency and can’t do it.”
I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “What do you want from me?”
“Look, you’re Rosie’s uncle. We’re...family, Will. And family sticks together. You know how distrustful Alex is about strangers around our Rosie. And we’ve both seen how much you’ve taken to her when you’ve come over. We were hoping you might step up and spend some time with her while we’re away. It’s two weeks, bro. We’d really appreciate it.”
“I’d have to take time away from the company. I can’t take a vacation whenever I want, Kit. I’m the chairman and CEO.”
“Work from home!”
“And juggle running an entire business with looking after a child? I don’t think so.”
Kit sighs. “Come on. You’re my only hope. Alex won’t have a stranger babysitting Rosie—she’ll cancel on me if you don’t agree.”
“What about Dad? Have you asked him?”
“Hell no. She’ll wear him down in a couple of hours, and Dad was awful at changing diapers with us. Come on! You’ve got youth going for you, William! And I know by the silly grin you get on your face when you see her that you really want to do this. William, we’re asking you. Are you seriously trying to wriggle out of this? I thought you’d jump at the chance to spend more time with Rosie.”
Part of me loves the idea. I can’t deny that Rosie is adorable. She gurgles with glee every time I’m around, and she’s one of the sweetest kids I’ve ever come across. But looking after her would also be a painful reminder of what I don’t have. Plus I meant what I said about the company. I’ve got my priorities straight, and Walker Industries will always remain at number one.
“Kit, I can’t do it. You’ll have to find someone else.”
“What’s that I heard? You’d love to take care of Rosie for the full two weeks?”
“Kit...”
“Oh, that’s great, William. You’re the best brother ever.”
“I swear—”
“I’ll drop her off at 7:00 a.m., next Monday. So glad you agreed to this. Much love. Bye, bro.”
“Kit, you little—”
The line goes dead. I groan in frustration, putting the phone down and resting my head on the table.
How the hell am I going to get out of this one?
India
Something is seriously off with William today. I haven’t spoken to him all day, but I can just tell. I mean it’s not like I have a lot of spare time on my hands between confirming his appointments and handling all of his calls, paperwork and expenses. But every time I glance William’s way, he’s pacing, muttering to himself or scrunching pieces of paper in his palm.
Something has wound him up, and for once it’s not me.
I spend the day keeping an eye on him through my peripheral vision. After all, when your boss is in a bad mood, it’s good to be alert. But when five o’clock rolls around, William is the first out the door. Which is also weird for him. But whatever. The workday has now ended. I’m not paid to care about what’s going on in his head.
I feel a weight lift from my chest as I leave the office. I guess most people feel relief to be going home at the end of a workday, but for me the feeling is incomparable. In the back of my head there’s an hourglass with sand running fast, marking the time to my next shift, but for a few minutes I can enjoy the fact that I’m out of that hellhole.
I guess part of the reason today hit me so hard was that William embarrassed me this morning. At least usually when he’s brusque with me, it’s in the privacy of his office. But today he patronized me in front of his entire team. And what did I do? I stood there and took it like an idiot.
Has it ever occurred to me to stand up for myself? Of course it has. I frequently dream about putting William in his place. I have visions of yelling at him in front of everyone. I fantasize about telling him where to shove his BS. I imagine the day when I slap his smug face for his rudeness and everyone cheers because, of course, he totally deserves it. The one and only thing stopping me is the inevitability that I will be fired.
And that, well, I’m not violent. I’m just creative. Blame the writer in me for these fantasies of revenge.
When I arrive home, the apartment is quiet. Montana won’t be home for a while, and I’m glad of it so I can de-stress with some writing time. I sit at the counter in the kitchen and open my laptop, hoping to get some quiet time to write. But before I can open my manuscript file, I notice that I have an email from an unfamiliar address. The subject line mentions a job.
I open the email in curiosity.
I can’t remember applying for a job recently—I gave up on finding something better a while back. But anything seems better than working for something like William. I read the contents carefully.
Dear India,
Deepest apologies for our late response. Several months ago, you applied for the staff writer opening with us. Unfortunately that position has already been filled. However our team has reviewed your résumé and we believe you would be a great fit for another role. Your writing is quite impressive, and we believe you would be an excellent contributor to the health-and-beauty pages on our website.
While the position is freelance and you’d be paid on a per-article basis, it could lead to great places. It would be a good way for you to get your foot in the door. You would also be working remotely, so you can work to a schedule that suits you. If you believe this could be something that would interest you, please let us know.
Sincerely,
Lauren Garvey
Freelance World
Oh, my god.
I reread the email, remembering when I applied a long time ago. I can’t believe that I’m not hallucinating, that this isn’t part of my novel. But this is real. This is an opportunity. I chew my thumb thoughtfully, my stomach skipping in excitement. What would I rather do? Take a job I might enjoy and get paid less or keep working for a jerk and have some spare pocket change?
Montana chooses the perfect moment to get home. She waltzes into the kitchen, holding a white box, no doubt containing leftover cupcakes from the bakery. She beams at me.
“Hey, girl. How was