Page 5 of In Too Hard


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“Oh, God, there must be ideas for twenty different novels in all those boxes.”

I was already nodding, going into organizational mode. “Can you give me your top three or four book ideas that will have the most notes? Maybe the priority I should use when working through them?”

His eyes, light grey earlier, turned a deeper shade as an almost tortured look crossed his face. “That’s just it. There is no front-runner. Or top three or four. It’s just all one big jumbled mess of ideas. I can’t…I haven’t been able to…”

I wanted to reach out and touch his arm, to soothe him. It was obvious that he was in some kind of literary pain. But sympathy—and touching—probably wouldn’t help me get the job.

Which made me wonder… “Why did you ask me? I mean, I’m assuming you’re asking me if I’d be interested in the job?”

“I am. The job’s yours if you want it.” His face cleared of the clouds a little, and he looked at me with a bit of searching.

“I do. But again, why me? Not that I don’t think I’d be good at it. I do. I think it’d be right up my alley, actually.”

“So do I. That’s why I came to you. As to why I picked you? Well, you referenced a lot of literature in your papers, so it’s obvious you’re well-read.” I nodded and waited. “From the paper you wrote about where you came from, it’s apparent that, let’s say, organizational skills were a part of your daily life.”

A nice way of saying I had to hold it all together because no one else would. “Yes, I’m very organized.”

He nodded, but his look said he knew more about me than I wanted him to, that he’d read between the lines. A necessary evil, I supposed, if you’re going to be truthful in your writing class.

“Well, this job is going to take a lot of organizing. And from the way you wrote your papers, it was obvious you understand basic literary structure. That will be key when you’re transcribing the notes into a workable outline.”

“Makes sense.”

He leaned a little closer. Not quite in my space, but a little past his. “But the kicker was when you wrote about one of your favorite hobbies—besides reading—being jigsaw puzzles.”

“You rememberthat?”

He smiled. “I do.”

“And that was beneficial to this?” I motioned between him and me, then waved it around the classroom for good measure.

“Yes. It was like a light bulb went off for me when I was given the okay for an assistant. Because this is going to be one big, gigantic, friggin’ jigsaw puzzle.”

To do something I would truly love, and to do it in the Billy Montrose atmosphere? “Yes. I would really like to do this.”

“You don’t even want to know what it pays?”

And to getpaidto do it? But I put on my poker face. “Well, yes. What would the pay be? What hours would you need me? I don’t have a car on campus, would that be an issue?”

He settled back in his chair, but still faced me. Did I imagine it, or did he let out a tiny sigh of relief? “The hours are whenever you’re available. It’s a lump sum for the job, paid out at the beginning of each month starting in January and going through May. It’s not an hourly wage, but for the completed job, so you can work whenever you’re able. I’ll get you a key to my office. And once you’re through there we’ll figure out what to do with the boxes in my apartment. It’s right on the edge of campus, and I walk it, but maybe we’d bring all the boxes down to the office. Or we…I don’t know, we’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Okay.”

“The total for the job is ten thousand dollars. They figured it at their starting administrative assistant’s rate for six months. I can disperse that as I see fit. You’re obviously not expected to work forty hours, but you only have five months to do the job.

“You’d be paid two thousand on the first of each month. We would be in constant contact, obviously, with your progress. If it doesn’t seem like you can finish it all before you’re done for the year—”

“I’ll get it done.” Holy shit. Ten thousand would be a huge help with my expenses. It would maybe even allow me to stay here over the summer and get a few classes in.

The thought of going home for the summer had been the only sense of dread I’d had since arriving at Bribury.

He smiled. “Ms. O’Brien, you have not seen the amount of notes we’re talking about.”

“I’ll get it done. I accept the offer.”

“Great.” He stood up and moved to his desk and started to shove things into his satchel. “Are you still on campus tomorrow, or are you heading home today?”

“No, I’m here tomorrow. Actually, I’m staying through the break. Because of my job with the admin building, I’m helping with the testing of the new front end system they’re installing over the break.”