Chapter 4

Joyce wasn't so joyful now.

"Correct me if I am wrong. You took a call and simply told the costumer we didn't have lanterns and they should look at Walmart."

I was slumped in the desk chair. She stood in front of me. Her arms were crossed, so you know she was in a mood. I rolled my eyes and fiddled my nails together. "I would never shop at Walmart, but I can't deny it, Walmart has everything."

"We have lanterns, Ruth." She closed her eyes, taking a long and ridged deep breath. "Then, after that call, you told a costumer the wrong information about one of our fishing poles."

"It wasn't in the catalogue."

She narrowed her eyes. "You told them they would have better luck spear fishing."

I shrugged. "They would. Much easier than all this complicated equipment."

"Then, please tell me I'm wrong... you told a man to go fuck himself."

I sat up straighter in the seat, pointing a finger at her. "Wrong. No. I told him to go fuck his momma first."

"Ruth—"

"He was being such an asshole, Joyce!"

"I'm sure he wasn't the first one being an asshole."

He might not have been the first one being the asshole. But I wasn't the last. Joyce was actually.

An hour later, I walked out of Rockwood's without a job. Honestly, I wasn't crushed. I survived three long weeks working there and I hated it. The shit part was needing to find another job. And there were only so many jobs to apply to in this shit-hole town.

Working the past few weeks earned me a whopping 780 dollars (not including the past 4 days I worked). Not as much as I wanted – or needed. A good chunk already was gone thanks to a few bills and groceries. I didn't pay rent yet, renter's insurance, or half the other bills that would be coming in. I felt so screwed. Which is bullshit because I've been doing well! I wasn't buying liquor, I wasn't buying drugs, I wasn't splurging on clothes or jewelry (which was easy when there weren't any fucking shopping options around here). Damn, I missed shopping. Almost as much as I missed easy access to fucking Pall Malls!

Driving home, I started biting my nails – which also are due for a manicure, but guess what, I'm broke and live in the middle of nowhere. My stress was increasing, my anxiety doubling. Fuck, I don't have a job. I guess I could dip into my savings, but that would have to be temporary - very very temporary.

But as I learned... that was not an easy option.

"Dad, I lost my job, what else do you want from me? Proof that I lost my job? I need money to pay my bills, pay rent...."

"I'm sorry, but you dug yourself into this."

"This is my money; I'm not asking for your charity."

"You know I'm uncomfortable giving you that much money. I've helped you with everything, Ruth. Even when nobody else wanted to. At this point, I'm just enabling you."

"Dad. They money would be for my rent. It would be for my rent, my bills, everything. Do you really think—"

"Sorry Ruth." Click.

I chucked my phone onto my couch from where I was pacing around the living room. Great. Just fucking great. Aimlessly walking around the living room, scuffing my pink socks along the carpet, I chewed on my bottom lip. I wouldn't be able to find another job in time to pay my bills and rent.

Passing by the couch and the TV for the 10th time, I stopped by the window overlooking the front yard. I stared across the street to the landlord's house. His old red pickup was in his driveway, so the man was home. I haven't seen him in a few weeks. I'm sure he will be even less forgiving if I tell him the shit news.

Running a hand through my hair, I eventually slid my shoes on and walked over. I didn't know what I was going to do or say to him. At least I would be keeping him updated on everything so he won't be as shocked when I can't pay him. There we go. Looking on the bright side.

I knocked on the door and he answered. Crossing his strong arms over his chest, he raised a brow and smiled, surprised. I didn't want to admit this... but it was nice seeing that smile. "Hey, Ruth, how is it going?"

"Mr. McCormick—"

"Blake," he corrected.

"Listen... I... I got fired today. I'm just being real with you, so you're not surprised if I come up short this month," I started, unable to stop talking. "I lost my job, I need to get another, and by the time I do, I still won't have enough money. Not for rent or the bills or the fucking 27 for renter's insurance because lord knows that's super important. I don't have easy access to the money in my savings because my dad is stubborn and being stupid, so I don't know what I'm going to do...."

"Wait, how did you get fired?"

"That's... not relevant."

"Right," he nodded, humored by my answer. The sunlight showed his freckles and deep eyes being shadowed by his bushy eyebrows. His beard was trimmed since the last time I saw him. I missed how bushy it looked. Not that he looked any less appealing now. "I don't know what to tell you, Ruth. I need payment. Why don't you take advantage of the town garage sale? It's coming up and I'm sure you have plenty you could do without."

I didn't appreciate his retarded suggestion – or how nonchalant he was being. "Yeah? I'm going to sell a few things? Pay off all my bills and rent? Why don't I just start working a corner?"

"You wouldn't get a lot of business," he mumbled.

"Excuse me?!"

He scoffed and clarified. "It's a small town. As I'm sure you noticed." Seeing my distress, he turned on his stupid 'charm.' "I'll tell you what, I'll have you work for me."

"Like... at the gas station?"

"No," he chuckled. "I want to keep my costumers coming back."

Yup. Now that one he didn't need to clarify to keep it from being an insult. "You know what, I don't need your help. I was just updating you on my situation. Bye."

"Ruth," he said, just before I turned to leave. "I'm serious. I'll have you work for me."

"How?"

He leaned against the door frame, looking down in thought. "It's no surprise I could do better with my houses. Half are vacant. And it's not because of a lack of people."

I raised a brow to him, surprised. Was he actually admitting that his properties could be better? "Oh, how exactly could you do better? Your houses are perfect. I'm just the high-class city girl who is too good for everything." I said, flailing my arm around in a prissy manner and spinning dramatically.

"Yes, my houses could be better. I could hire you to help me renovate and redecorate."

For the first time, I started taking this offer seriously. Staring into his eyes, they were real, honest, serious. He admitted his houses were flawed and needed some changes. Which they did. Would he really be willing to hire me to take that on though?

"How much?" I asked.

He thought it over. "I'll give you 200 a week."

"200 a week? For what? My cigarette fund?"

Looking off to the side, as if still contemplating everything, he pursed his lips. "You would no longer need to pay for rent and I'll take care of most the bills. 200 per week is for everything else. This can be until the end of summer; that's all. By then, you will have found a new job."

Wow. That was... different. Not an official job, but that would take care of most of my expenses. Rubbing the back of my neck, I sighed. "I... I don't know. That's a lot to do on my own."

He shook his head. "I'd help you."

"You work all the time."

"I make my own schedule. I help out where I'm needed."

Help out? I looked him over, trying to figure him out more (and not get distracted by his body). "Do you not have a job at a gas station? Are you not constantly working?"

"Yeah, because we're under-staffed."

For the first time, I realized I didn't know anything about this guy. "Wait, do you... own it?"

"Kind of. I'm the boss. I am in charge of that gas station and the marina – and am invested in a few other local businesses. I bounce back and forth between them, making sure everything is in check."

"Wonder why you work at so many places. Can't be because you don't make enough money with this gold mine," I said, turning and gesturing out to all the dumpy houses around us. "That couldn't possibly be why, right?"

Turning back to him, his lips slowly shaped up into an amused smirk. "Do you want the job or not?"

"No," I said.

"No?"

That's right. I turned him down. And yes, I admit, part of it – most of it – was because I didn't want to appease the man. I didn't want his charity and I knew I was better than this. I could find a way to pay him without his pity, sympathy, or judgement.

"Okay then, I wish you luck," he said with surprise. Which made saying no more satisfying. "Let me know if you change your mind."

I smiled, full of pride. "Thank you, but I won't."

***

"Listen, I'll fucking take your offer, okay?" I said, putting the money on the counter. "And 20 dollars on pump three." My shame prevented me from looking him in the eye and instead I stared at the lottery tickets, waiting.

Since last night, I tried coming up with any possible way to come up with the money in time. I even swallowed my anger and called up my dad, asking about my savings again. After being hung up on, again, I couldn't come up with any solutions. So, here the fuck I was. 1:00 in the afternoon the next day, stopping in the gas station he worked. Oh, sorry, the gas station he ran and managed I mean.

He took the money, rang me up, and said nothing at first. But ugh, I could just feel the smugness radiating from him. "Alright, Ruth, be at my place by 6:00 tomorrow.

6:00 seemed a little late to start, but hey, I wouldn't complain. "You got it," I mumbled before I left.

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Poor city girl is going to be working for the landlord now. I'm excited because things will start to get interesting! Thank you for reading and I should have the next chapter up shortly :)