Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“Do you want it?” she asks, gesturing to her chest, taunting me. “I don’t mind, and I’m sure all the other men in the office would enjoy watching my breasts jiggle all day.”
My eyes narrow on her as my anger at the thought of anyone else looking at her shoots up like a rocket. All I can do is growl at her as she giggles and turns to leave.
CHAPTER 21
ANA
Marissa and I are having dinner that evening when a call comes in from Stella.
“Get ready for an argument,” my roommate says as she reaches for her phone.
“I know. Why isn’t it easier to give people gifts?”
Stella appears on the screen, and she looks almost as unhappy as my bosses.
“Hi, friend,” I say brightly, as Marissa also says hello.
In return, Stella says, “I’m not a charity case.”
I keep a pleasant smile on my face. “Of course you’re not, and we’d never think of you that way.”
“Then why are you sending me money?”
“Technically, it’s not money. It’s meant for a specific gift, but we didn’t have a way to buy that gift ourselves,” I say.
Marissa leans in. “Ana got a fancy new job, so we’re giving Christmas presents early.”
Before Stella can respond, I ask, “Did the package arrive for Jessie?”
“It did, and I told Jessie we might not be keeping it, but of course, she instantly fell in love with it, and was about to cry when I told her it might be a mistake.”
“You need to keep it, and use the money to sign her up for the dance classes.”
“You shouldn’t have done this,” Stella says. “She’s my daughter, and I should be able to pay for what she needs.”
“You pay for plenty, and she’s our niece, so we should be able to give her gifts,” Marissa says.
“Please keep it, Stella. It will make us both really happy to do something nice for Jessie and to make things a little easier for you.”
“You and Jessie deserve a little fun,” Marissa adds.
I can tell that Stella still wants to protest, but Jessie appears on the screen, spinning in circles and wearing the pink leotard and tutu we sent.
“Thank you, aunties. Thank you! Thank you!”
“You’re such a good dancer,” I tell her, “and imagine how much you’ll learn if you pay attention in dance class and practice every day.”
“I will. I’m so excited! I can’t wait!”
“How’s school going, Jessie?” Marissa asks as the girl starts to spin again.
Jessie comes to a stop and presses her nose in close to the screen. “It’s good. I made my own sandwich today to take to school.”
“You did? What did you make?” I ask.
In the background, I see Stella making a yuck face as Jessie shouts, “Cheese, raisins, and vanilla pudding!”
I try not to make a face myself as Stella shushes her daughter. “Nana’s going to be mad if you wake her up.”
“Sorry, Mommy,” Jessie says in a loud whisper, then, “Bye, aunties. Thanks again for my new dancing outfit. I love it, love it, love it!” She dances out of the room.
“Your mom’s asleep? Is she feeling okay?” Marissa asks. It’s a reasonable question since it’s not even seven o’clock.
Stella rolls her eyes and leans in to speak quietly. “She was out late last night. She’s been sleeping most of the day.”
We’ve heard stories about Stella’s mother’s erratic behavior in the past, and I wouldn’t be surprised if drugs or alcohol was involved in this all-day hangover, but I guess I hoped she’d be doing better with Stella and Jessie living there.
“Jessie looks adorable in that outfit,” I say to change the subject. “And don’t you dare think about sending anything back, because I know you’d do the same for us if the situations were reversed.
Stella lets out a sigh. She’d probably still like to argue, but she looks tired.
“Be sure to send us videos from her first dance class,” Marissa says.
The three of us talk for another minute, and when we disconnect, Marissa and I are smiling.
“Thanks for making that happen,” my roommate says. “It feels really good to be able to help put some fun in their lives.”
“It wasn’t just me. You made it happen, too.”
“Yeah, but we couldn’t have done it without your new job.”
“It’s proof that the universe provides,” I say as I get back to my food. “We had a need, and now we have the means, and I’m so grateful.”
“Community Bean must be a great company to pay their employees so well.”
I murmur vague agreement to her assumption. I still haven’t told her what happened at my interview, and what is apparently continuing to happen, since I have no willpower. I’ve been waiting for the guilt to fade away, but that hasn’t happened yet. Quite the opposite, in fact.
I’ve seen the payrolls, and though everyone at Community Bean is compensated fairly and competitively, the salary I’m earning is considerably more than they’ve paid anyone else in my position, and I can’t shake the thought that my post-interview activities had something to do with it.