Chapter 7
Ajori
Icracked my back and stared at the glowing words on the screen:
I chose Healthcare Administration because I’d spent countless hours in hospitals, I watched doctors talk around families like they weren’t even human, I saw how one mistake in paperwork can ruin someone’s life, and because when Kyrin asks, “Are we gonna be okay when you graduate?” I want to be able to say yes.
My desk was drowning in textbooks, highlighters, sticky notes, and a cold cup of coffee I should’ve reheated three hours ago. I took a sip of old coffee and made a face.
At this point, it was iced coffee by force.
I typed a sentence, deleted it, and typed again. The cursor blinked like it was tired of my shit.
“Healthcare systems,” I muttered, massaging my temple, “are designed to confuse people who don’t have time to be confused.”
My eyes wandered to the card that Marcos had given me three days ago. It sat on the counter between the coffee maker and the stack of unpaid bills. I told myself I wasn’t desperate enough to use it… at least not yet.
I exhaled, rolled my shoulders, and forced myself to keep going.
One sentence at a time… one assignment at a time…. one day closer to graduation… one day closer to a career where I didn’t have to choose between food or bills.
If only life would let me get there before it threw something else at me.
I checked my direct deposit before my shift at the store, expecting right at five hundred dollars. Instead, $302 stared back at me.
“The fuck?”
I logged into my payroll account fast, thinking maybe the system glitched.
It hadn’t.
I had a wage garnishment from a collection service, and an attached note was included.
Outstanding balance recovered on delinquent credit account.
I didn’t even need to guess whose mess it was.
Vanessa.
Years ago, she’d opened a credit card in my name, swearing she’d keep up with the payments. I’d forgotten all about it… until now that my paycheck was bleeding because of her.
By the time I clocked out, my head was pounding. That money was supposed to cover the light bill, gas for the week, and the internet. Now it would barely last the weekend.
Lainey tried to talk me down over the phone. “Jo, you know your mama—”
“I don’t want to hear it!” I snapped, pacing our small kitchen. “This isn’t some night out she forgot to invite me to; this is my money—money for bills! She’s out there somewhere sipping champagne while I’m over here deciding between paying Duke Energy or putting gas in the car!”
“Jo—”
“I’ll call you later.”
I hung up before the heat in my voice turned into something uglier, and I said something I couldn’t take back. I already knew Lainey was about to text me in all caps.
I picked it up slowly, rolling it between my fingers, feeling the weight of it.
Kyrin’s pale and tired face from the night I picked him up from Lainey’s flashed in my mind.
Then Dr. Hill’s voice echoed right behind it.
Two hundred thousand.
Lastly, the taste of panic when I saw my paycheck cut in half.
I exhaled slowly. “Fuck it!” I muttered. “Whatever he’s offering can’t be worse than fighting this hard just to stay broke.”
I pulled out my phone and dialed the number on the card.
Two rings, then a voice. “Marcos.”
“Hey, it’s Jo… the Uber driver,” I said, keeping my voice steady even though my heart was doing the most. “You said to think about it, and I’m done thinking.”
There was a pause… then a low chuckle. “I was waiting on your call.”
“Were you?”
“Yeah. You free tomorrow?”
“Depends.”
“Depends on if you want to change your life or not,” he countered. “I’ll send you the address in a text right after this call. There’s no specific dress code. This isn’t a regular interview. Just dress like you’re running errands… nothing flashy. And Jo?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t tell nobody where you’re going.”
My eyebrows pulled together.
“Keep an eye out for the text,” he concluded, then the line went dead.
Okaaaaaay…
I stayed sitting there for a minute, staring at the wall.
My brain was doing cartwheels.
Who was this man really?
What kind of job needs secrecy like that?
And why does my gut feel like I just stepped onto something bigger than I understood?
My phone buzzed in my hand, snapping me back.
Marcos: Tomorrow – 9:00 P.M. 2148 W. Lexington St. Come alone.
I stared at the message, then at the card again.
My chest tightened.
Whatever this job is, I was sure I’d be doing something well beyond my wildest dreams.
***
My room looked like a tornado had passed through it.
Clothes were tossed across the chair, the contents of my purse spilled out in chaotic disarray on the dresser, and I was pacing the floor like I had somewhere important to be in just five minutes.
I’d spent the whole night tossing and turning, flipping my pillow, staring at the ceiling like the answer was written up there somewhere.
My anxious mind was spiraling through an endless loop of imaginary interview questions, potential scenarios, and worst-case nightmares, all for a job I didn’t fully even understand.
“What would you even say?” I muttered to myself, the question echoing in the hollow space of my mind.
I stopped in front of the mirror, running my fingers down the front of my shirt to smooth out the wrinkles, pretending that someone was actually seated across from me.
“Ajori, why should we hire you?”
I cleared my throat and gathered my thoughts.
“Well… because my little brother needs a heart transplant, I’m broke, life keeps kicking my ass, and I’m desperate enough to try something new.
” I stared at my reflection for a heartbeat before shaking my head, dismissively waving my hand in the air as if I could erase the words I had just spoken.
“Yeah… that response definitely wouldn’t land me the job.”
These days, companies aren’t interested in hearing about your struggles; they only care about what value you bring to the table, whether you show up on time, keep your mouth shut, and make their lives easier.
I rubbed my face in frustration and tried again, this time standing a little taller and projecting more confidence.
“Because I’m dependable. I show up when I’m supposed to, I don’t panic under pressure, and I finish what I start. I’m the type of person who finds solutions instead of making excuses. If something needs to get done, you won’t have to chase me to do it.”
I paused, studying my reflection with newfound conviction.
“That actually sounded kinda good.” Then I squinted at myself. “Look at you… sounding employable and everything.”
But then a sigh escaped me, heavy with the weight of uncertainty.
I walked over and flopped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling in despair.
What am I doing? He told me it wouldn’t be a regular interview. For all I know, it might not even be an interview at all. It could be one of those strange pyramid schemes or “blink twice if you need help” situations that end up on the evening news.
That thought lodged itself heavy and uncomfortable in my chest.
I groaned and rolled over. “Nah. I need outside opinions.”
Since Kyrin was at school and I had the day off, I grabbed my keys and headed to Lainey’s place.
We had spoken again since I’d hung up on her the day before, but it was only briefly since one of her "boo thangs" stopped by.
" But I knew if anyone could offer some clarity—or at least a good dose of sense—it was her.
Upon reaching her apartment, I noticed one of her hair clients stepping out. The girl was rocking some fresh braids that danced down her back. Her satisfied smile suggested a great transformation. I offered her a quick smile in return as I stepped inside.
Lainey was sweeping up hair clippings near her chair. When she spotted me, a wide grin broke on her face. “Hey, boo!”
I exhaled dramatically, sinking into the couch like a weary traveler. “Hey, girl.”
She squinted at me immediately, concern lacing her features. “Uh-oh. That’s the exact same look you had when your mama ‘accidentally’ put that cable bill in your name.”
“This is probably worse.” I mumbled.
Lainey leaned the broom against the wall and walked over, plopping down beside me.
“What’s wrong now, boo?”
I hesitated for a second, then I reached into my purse, pulled out the black business card, and held it out to her.
She accepted it slowly, her brow furrowing as she studied it. “What’s this?”
I sat up a little straighter and gave her a brief summary of my encounter with Marcos, our intriguing conversation, and the mysterious job offer that had left me feeling equal parts hopeful and terrified.
Lainey’s eyebrows arched higher with each revelation, and when I finished talking, she stared at me in silence for a long moment before leaning back and whistling softly.
“Girl, I thought we were about to vent about a new love interest, or how somebody at yo' job had you fucked up again. So let me get this straight. Some random man hopped in your car, offered you a job, and now you’re telling me you could be rich, relocated, and rebranded in under six months?”
“I wouldn’t say rich… but yeah.” I shrugged, like it didn’t sound just as crazy coming out of my mouth.
“Seriously, Ajori,” she said, scrutinizing the card again, flipping it over as if it might reveal more secrets. “This is one of those cards that either leads you to a six-figure opportunity… or a Netflix documentary about some crime ring.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “See… this is exactly why I almost didn’t tell you.”
Lainey grinned. “I’m joking… kinda.” Then her expression shifted. “Seriously, sis, that’s tax-bracket-changing money.”
“That’s life-changing money,” I corrected quietly, my heart heavy with the implications. “For Kyrin.”
She didn’t interrupt that time.
“If what that man said is true, that money could get him into that private program faster than anything else.” I paused. “But the problem is… I don’t even know what the job consists of.”
"Did he give any clue?”