Chapter 2
2
Faith had her head down a toilet when she heard goats bleating.
Straightening, she dropped the toilet brush into the toilet.
Fudge knuckles.
Pulling off her gloves, she grabbed her phone out of her pocket as the goats kept bleating.
She saw it was Asta from the employment agency calling and quickly answered.
“Hello, this is Faith.”
“Faith! I have it! A job for you.”
Faith stood. “You do? What sort of job?”
“Personal assistant for a lawyer.”
She bit her lip. “Asta, you know I don’t have any experience as a personal assistant. And for a lawyer? Wouldn’t they want someone who knew something about the law?”
All she knew was how not to break it. Faith would never do that.
She was a good girl.
“That’s the great thing. He’s desperate.”
“Well. That’s awesome.” She felt so great about herself now.
“Isn’t it?” Asta gushed. “He’s gone through three assistants in the last two months.”
What the hell? How was that even possible?
“Who is this man?” she asked. Suddenly, cleaning toilets wasn’t looking so bad.
“His name is Reuben Jones. I’ll be honest; he’s kind of intimidating and scary. Not that I’ve met him, but I’ve heard stories. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that he’s gone through everyone we had who was available . . . and willing. So that leaves you! Isn’t that great?”
Yeah, wasn’t it fantastic that things her life had become so terrible she had to take a job no one else wanted. With someone who sounded like a possible tyrant.
“It’s a trial to see if you are a good fit. But the job pays twenty-eight an hour. If you last three months, it goes up to thirty. Health benefits kick in at six months. And after a year, you get thirty-five an hour.”
Holy. Crap.
That sort of money would be a dream. She could send three times as much home to her family than she was able to now.
“Listen, so the guy is kind of cold and a perfectionist. That doesn’t mean you can’t do the job and bring in the money, honey.”
Asta was nothing if not supportive. And energetic. It was just wrong for someone to have that much energy.
Faith certainly didn’t. She felt worn down and slapped around by life. As though it just kept kicking her time and again.
Maybe this is just what you need to move forward. To get out of this pit of despair and self-loathing.
“Can I think about it?”
Asta sighed. “Sure. You’ve got until Friday morning. Then he’ll likely go to another agency. So don’t wait too long.”
“I won’t. Thanks, Asta.”
“No problem.”
Faith ended the call. Then she glanced down at the toilet brush lying in the toilet. She groaned.
Anything had to be better than this, surely?