“Atta girl. Remember, if William gets hurt, you run.” He said sternly, piercing me with the intensity of his gaze.
Nodding, I gave Gerard a small smile and walked to where William was waiting with the car.
Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.
Seated in the black Lincoln Nautilus, I watched the grandiose house disappear in the rear-view mirror. I sent a small prayer up to the universe, hoping that I would be successful in my mission today.
I needed a win, and I needed it badly.
I had been walkingup and down Marbury Place for the last hour or so, checking whether any of the stores or restaurants were hiring, with no luck. The Georgia heat had me adjusting my curls often. I had fixed the knot of curls on top of my head three times already, desperate to get every fly away tamed and off my neck. William followed a few paces behind me, enduring the heat and every subtle rejection since we exited the car.
My feet led me to the front of Divine Time. Just a few weeks ago, I was being fitted for a gown that probably cost more than my mortgage, and now I was coming in to ask for a job. I had never been too proud, and had worked hard my whole life. However, something about being around all these wealthy people had made me nervous. I felt like an imposter, playing dress-up in someone else's clothes.
Pulling back my shoulders, I take a deep breath before opening the door to the boutique and walking in.
I needed to try.
That was all Dr. Beck had asked of me. I had to prove to myself that I wanted to heal, or at least cauterize the crater-sized wound that the death of my sister had left.
Yara was at the sparkling granite counter, typing away at her computer, when she noticed me approaching her.
“Hey Yara, I’m not sure if you remember me from a few weeks ago.”
Yara stopped what she was doing and smiled. “Of course, I remember you. The twins are frequent flyers here. You looked absolutely stunning in that gown—the girls and I were talking about you for days.”
The compliment caught me off guard and had me stammering out my reply.
“Wow, um, thank you. I was actually stopping by to ask if you might be hiring.”
Her face dropped a fraction before picking up again in a smile.
“I’m not hiring.” My heart sank. “But the country club is actually hiring a hostess. A friend of mine mentioned it to me when I was there last weekend.”
Hope flared in my chest at the prospect of a job after searching the strip for over an hour and yielding no results. I thanked her profusely and practically ran outside to meet William and head over to the country club.
When we arrived, I decided to channel some of the confidence I had earlier. I took a moment to smooth out my dress and walked up to the club concierge. A woman with warm, sandy skin and a vibrant red ponytail tied high on her head, dressed in a pleated tennis dress and blazer, stood at the desk on the phone. She spoke low and fast, giving out orders to whoever was on the other end. I waited patiently for her to finish the call and acknowledge me.
After five minutes, she hung up the phone and proceeded to type on the laptop that was seated on the desk beside her. I almost thought she didn’t see me for a minute before she glanced my way and said, “We’re not interested.”
The urge to roll my eyes was strong. I plastered on a saccharine smile, and instead of telling her to kiss my ass, I said, “I’m here to inquire about the position opening for a hostess at your restaurant.”
Her smirk told me everything I needed to know about her. Luckily for me, before she could respond, an older white man with greying brown hair dressed in a tan suit stepped behind the concierge desk.
“Ms. Norris, we heard you would be joining us today.”
I didn’t let my utter shock show because Barbie's jaw was on the floor, and I was enjoying her reaction too much. I truly don’t know how this man knows my name, but I don’t plan on questioning the situation.
“Thank you, uh...” I quickly read the name on the badge pinned to his lapel. “Thomas.”
“May I speak with you privately?” Thomas made a gesture to a door a few feet away from us and made his way over to it as I followed.
When we made it into the office, Thomas sat behind a large birch desk and directed me to sit in the copper-leather armchair across from him.
“Mr. Woods told me we should be expecting you today. Everything is set up with your membership,” he said as he handed me a white titanium card with Marquis Country Club Member engraved in the metal.
This time, I couldn’t conceal the baffled look on my face. How did Parker know I was going to the country club, and why would he sign me up for a membership?
He was making it hard to avoid him. I told myself that he was just watching out for me because that was what he had agreed to, but there was a small part of me that hoped he might feel the same way.
