I fought the urge to smile and do a happy dance. I barely made five hundred dollars a month working part-time at the convenience store. Now this wonderful man was offering me five hundred dollars a week, plus my own room, access to a van, and all the chocolate I could eat. I’d have to be a fool to turn him down.
“I think that’s more than fair,” I said.
“Fantastic.” He smiled and slapped his hands on his knees. “Can you start right away?”
“That depends,” I said. “Can I borrow the minivan to go get my stuff? My car ran hot on the way over and I’m not sure it’ll start yet.”
He smiled for a moment, probably thinking I was joking, and then he stood up and held out his hand.
I put my hand in his and he helped me to my feet.
His hand was soft and warm.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll find the keys.”
CHAPTER EIGHT: Amy Lynne
It didn’t take long to pack up my meager belongings and load them into Jackson’s two-year-old minivan that only had thirty-six miles on it.
The van had been parked in the garage next to a gorgeous red Mercedes SL convertible that looked like it hadn’t been driven in a while either, judging by the film of dust covering its gleaming red body.
I wondered why he had a minivan if he didn’t drive it, but I didn’t dare ask. I didn’t want to seem too nosy right off the bat. I’d call Gail later and ask her the list of questions I was compiling in my mind about Jackson Ritter.
All I had to pack was my measly wardrobe, an old laptop I’d bought off Craigslist, and some makeup and toiletries that I stuffed into a plastic bag. The furniture and everything else, such as it was, came with the apartment.
It was pathetically sad, knowing my entire life could be packed up so quickly in one suitcase. Most homeless people had more shit than I did piled in their shopping carts.
I stopped by the convenience store to give notice to the manager, Brad. I hated leaving him in a lurch, I explained, but I had another offer I simply couldn’t pass up.
I offered to give him two weeks’ notice, but he was nice about it and said there’d be no problem.
He even gave me a hug and wished me well.
I told him I’d see him soon, since I couldn’t shop at the FoodMart anymore.
I climbed into the van, buckled my seat belt, and then pulled out onto the highway, hopefully heading for a better life.
I had been dealt another hand.
Let’s hope I played this one better than the last.
*
“Lizzie, this is Amy Lynne,” Jackson said as he held his daughter in his arms to introduce her to me. He beamed when he looked at her. I could tell right away that she was his entire world. “Amy Lynne, this is my Lizzie.”
“Hi, Lizzie,” I said in a high voice. It was funny; people used the same high, sing-song tone to greet cute little kids that they used to greet cute little dogs. I held out my arms and wiggled my fingers at her. “Can I hold you?”
Lizzie hid her eyes behind her hands for a moment, and my heart stopped. If she didn’t like me, my new job would end as quickly as it had started. Then she peered through her fingers at me with her big brown eyes and her mouth widened into a toothy grin. She practically jumped into my arms.
“Wow, she’s usually more standoffish,” Jackson said. He watched us interact for a moment. The look of love in his eyes for his little girl nearly brought tears to my own. I would have given anything to have someone look at me that way.
“I’m going to let you two get acquainted while I take your things up to your room,” he said. He looked around the foyer and saw my single suitcase. He pointed at it. “Is that all you brought?”
I bounced Lizzie in my arms and smiled. “I travel light.”
“Well, that makes it easier on me,” he said. He poked Lizzie in the belly with a finger. She laughed and slapped a hand at him. He picked up the suitcase and stared into my eyes.
“I’m glad you’re here, Amy Lynne,” he said softly. “This house has been a sad place for so long. Lizzie deserves better.”
“I’m glad I’m here, too,” I said. Our eyes locked for a few seconds, as if time had momentarily paused, and then he turned and disappeared up the stairs with my pitiful suitcase in hand.
*
I’d never been good at sleeping in strange places. Not that my bedroom in Jackson’s house was strange. On the contrary, it was the most amazing bedroom I’d ever seen.
It was as big as my old apartment, with a plush king-sized bed and antique white-washed furniture that looked like something out of a magazine.
There was a bathroom en-suite that had a huge soaker tub and a walk-in shower big enough for two.
The towels in the closet were thick and soft and expensive, so unlike the thin, scratchy towels back at the apartment.
There was a large walk-in closet. Sadly, my clothes only took up a fraction of the space. I had four pairs of shoes. They looked ridiculous all lined up neatly on the closet floor.
Maybe I’d take some of the fortune I was now making and buy myself a new wardrobe.