Chapter 2: Two

I hate how short Sundays are. Is the only thing I think when I board the bus early morning the next day. I'm babysitting some kid today, a fourteen-year-old girl whose parents need a reliable person to guard their treasure for one afternoon. I swear that's what it said, some people just have the strangest combination of words.

I yawned into my hand before taking out my paperback novel. Historical romance was my thing, I like to lose myself in the old words, petticoats, and lords that fell head over heels with the maid or the wallflower. I eyed the streets, I was two stops from my destiny but traffic had made my travel time longer. I texted the mom not to worry, that I was on my way and she called me right away.

The house was huge, the couple magazine-like and the kid, well a brat. She was pretty, with her blond curls and make-up but full of shit. She talked to me like I was an equal and not five years older. A little precocious thing talking about boys like she knew anything. I bet she didn't even know how to wipe her own ass. It bothered me that I was just like her once. Naively thinking that the world was just what my eyes saw that behind the shiny things there was the sad truth, the one I'm living now. Maybe she won't have to go through the things I have but I hoped her parents soon sat her down and had the real talk, the one mine should have given me.

The house is clean and we just sit down and watch movies, at least she does while I sit down on a comfortable chair not that very far from where she sits, clicking away in the big smartphone, snickering and giggling to herself.

"Can I have popcorn?" I lift my head from my book. Her face is pink and for a moment she looks like the child she really is; her lip gloss is gone and her hair is tied up on top of her head in a high ponytail.

"Yes, go ahead." I watch her run to the kitchen and listen to the sounds coming. The movie is on pause and I relax. I could get used to this sort of job. Just one single afternoon and is pretty decent cash. The voice has gone around that I'm a good babysitter, I help with homework and even take them out to the park when the parent suggests the kid is allowed a few hours out.

Just as they said, both parents came in around nine. We had ordered take-out from her favorite sushi place, I just had water and tasted one single roll. Raw food isn't my thing but at least I tried it. They handed me a check and just as I was about to head out the mother called me into the family study.

"Jessa said you were good to her." Just because I listened and treated her like a person. We hardly did anything together, I let her do her own thing and answered the questions, and checked on her when she turned too quiet.

"She's a good kid." That brought a warm smile.

"You're in college, right?"

"Yes."

"That's good. You live by yourself?"

"Yes, about half an hour away by bus."

"What about your parents?" I feel like this is an interview, I try to calm down as she speaks. "You're what twenty?"

"Nineteen actually." She nods.

"I think I might have something that could interest you. I'll give you a call in a couple of days."

Ok, that was weird. Something for me? How the hell did she know I was looking for something? I was sure I didn't look like a beggar since I paid attention to how I dressed. Even today I was wearing a nice white shirt, a very vintage but beautiful pink jacket, jeans, and my white sneakers. I mean what was I going to wear to babysit a fourteen-year-old? Not stilettos!

At least Monday was settled, tomorrow morning I was going to deposit this money and move it to my savings account.

Still, I expected her call, even three days, a week, two weeks after I was still waiting to see what the hell she meant by it. That was why my heart went to overdrive when my phone lit up with her name.

"Hello?"

"Any experience in house sitting?"

"Excuse me?"

"I need someone to house sit my customer's home. I need someone responsible to live in for a short time while he flies back and forth out of the country." I had heard about such jobs but they are kind of odd to get and they aren't that reliable. "You're there Dolores?"

“Yes, mam."

"Good."

"But how would that work?"

"I need you to come to my office let's say around eleven tomorrow."

I wrote down the address and placed an alarm. I mapped the shortest route and I ironed the best work shirt I had. The place was a law firm and there was no way I was going to let people see me as a scrawny kid. Which I looked like most of the time. I never had that spurt-like growth in me. I seem smaller and younger. I'm terribly white and skinny, with blue eyes and long black hair. The thing I like most is my skin, I'm blessed that my mother was able to pass me her amazing genes. I hardly ever had a pimple or any type of blemish on my skin. What I never got was a figure, all I can brag about is my skin. No curves no nothing.

I'm standing outside the tall building on my medium-height heels, black pants, and a white shirt with thin vertical stripes. My hair is loose on my back and my make-up is minimal, just my eyes have a little color in them, nude lips, and simple jewelry. I'm just chatting with Margot Pope, a nice chat and that's it. A chat about me guarding a house while the owner is gone. At least that was what it said online about the whole deal.

I say my name once I'm facing the man in seating behind the counter in the lobby and I'm told to wait so I sit down on a brown chair and wait. I have the urge to take out my book, I'm close to the end but I instead take one of the newspapers on the table and go through it only reading the titles. I'm nineteen, I don't expect her to ask me anything about politics or economics. I'm here to listen to what she has to say and then head home until is time to get ready for another night with popcorn and disgusting Will breathing down my neck.

"Miss Kirby." I'm called so I hurry and take my pass. I am directed to a set of doors that turn out to be elevators and I'm told to press twelve, someone is expecting me.

Mrs. Pope's office has the most amazing view, to the next-door building. From afar people move inside it like the ants on that see-through colony I made in the third grade. She welcomes me with a smile and I admire her neat up-do. Her space is big and every space seems to be spotless, nothing is out of place, just me in my wannabe adult outfit. I sit down and wait until she puts down her phone and turns her eyes to me.

"How have you been? Was it easy to find?"

"Y-yes." I stammer.

"Oh, don't be nervous, is just more convenient here than on the phone. Plus, I get to see you in work clothes." Her hands move as she talks, "for some reason you give out the air of a responsible person and after much thought, I present the idea to Mr. Westbrook, and as long as you follow the rules we can sign right now."

"What?"

"The house-sitting job?"

"Oh right." Sign right away? What rules? Shouldn't I be asking what exactly where they looking for? I mean it was all too fast.

"If you need to think about it we have two days for that but here is what he expects of you." She handed me a thin manila envelope. Not heavy but kind of stacked together. "His secretary has your resume and so far, they are happy with the background check. I advise you to take it, he's hardly home and is an easy job. The house is fully staffed and the only thing you need to do is keep everything in another. There's a room for you on the lower floor and full access to the kitchen, gym, pool, and one of the cars. The only thing is no one is to go in but you. When he is in town you must sleep somewhere else."

"What about bills and that?"

"You don't have to worry about it. You'd be just like another staff."

Really? Was this for real? This is a dream job. All I had to do was keep the house clean, don't bring anyone inside, and leave when the owner came back. I was in a daze, cloud nine. I was walking back to my place with the contract and rules under my arm and a stunning look on my face.

Saying yes implied so much stuff. The amount they were going to pay me meant I didn't have to stay in more late nights at the stinky theater, no side jobs, no more tables, or cleaning bathrooms. No more disgusting Will. I could save, study hard and even keep my rented room. Most of all I could save! I read everything carefully. Checking and double-checking the small print and looking up legal terms I had no idea. The contract was for two months as a trial, and then once those two were up and if everything pleased Mr. Westbrook the contract would be extended.

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