“Well, lots of other people must like it, because I have a waiting list of potential clients, some of whom are willing to pay up to fifty dollars for a DIY option.”
“What?”
“At a discounted rate, you give them the idea, but it’s up to them to implement it.”
I looked from Havisham to Salcedo and back again. Words failed me.
“Come on, Stark,” Havisham said. “All you have to do is meet with the first client on the list. See if it works.”
“I have a job, and I’m already doing homework for my paralegal classes!” My excuses sounded hollow to my own ears. My job was on my own time, and I would have to take a break in my paralegal classes if I didn’t get my money situation straightened out.
“Which you’re able to do at a bar,” Havisham, the traitor, was saying. “So I think you can handle it.”
“I have my freelance gigs, too.”
Salcedo’s eyes brightened. “But I’m going to help you.”
Betty chose that blessed moment to slide plates of food in front of us. She topped off our coffee, and I was glad for the interruption, so I had a moment to think.
Salcedo tucked into her hashbrowns, closing her eyes and savoring the greasy goodness.
Havisham, meanwhile, was skewering me with one of her signature looks. “Come on, Stark. What have you got to lose?”
“Not a lot, but I’m sure this viral video will be forgotten by next week.”
She pointed her fork at me. “For heaven’s sake, when did you get to be such a pessimist?”
“Would you like a chronological list or one in order of severity of trauma?”
“Anyway,” Salcedo said in a tone that suggested we would get back on topic and we would like it. “I got the idea for ‘Little Miss Petty’ from what your jackwagon ex said. We can consider the glitter bomb as my audition for being your assistant.”
“The petty personal assistant to me, the petty personal assistant?” I asked, my chicken biscuit held midair.
“Yes!”
I nibbled at my chicken biscuit while I considered. Finally, I said, “Listen, I may be a millennial, but I’m getting too old for side hustles.”
Havisham looked up from her hashbrown bowl. “If you want to come up with seven thousand dollars in a month, then you need to take your vitamins and hustle.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Havisham and Salcedo started a whisper campaign of “you tell her” and “no, you tell her.”
“Just spit it out,” I said as I put down my biscuit and picked up my water glass. Gotta hydrate along with my coffee and all that.
Salcedo took a deep breath, then blurted, “Your first client is willing to pay you three thousand dollars.”
I had been taking a drink at the moment she said “three thousand dollars.” That water went down the wrong pipe, which necessitated a coughing fit that brought Betty shuffling over.
“Ma’am, are you choking?”
I shook my head.
“If you can’t speak, then I’m going to assume you’re choking.” She cracked her knuckles in grim anticipation of performing the Heimlich maneuver.
Waving her off, I finally managed to croak “No, I’m fine” between coughs.
She exhaled with a combination of relief and disappointment but then yelled over her shoulder to the cook. “Jasper, I told you those biscuits were too dry!”
