I snuck around the corner, pulled out my phone, and saw it was the elementary school where my nine-year-old went to school. “Going on a break,” I said, popping my head around the corner and walking out the back door.
“Is this Mrs. Patting?”
“Miss Patting,” I corrected.
“Hi, Willow. This is Mrs. Shields.”
I inwardly groaned. We didn’t need formal introductions. We had met several times. More times than I cared to count. “Hi, Mrs. Shields,” I said, trying to sound polite and cheery as I spoke to the school’s counselor.
“I don’t want to inconvenience you, but I really need to talk with you. Sooner, rather than later.”
I closed my eyes. That was code for get your ass down here now before we call the police, CPS, and every other agency interested in making my life hell. “I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes,” I said.
“We’ll see you then.”
I went back inside, worried about my son and feeling anxious to get to him. I found my boss slicing lemons in the kitchen. “Gee, I hope your job didn’t interfere with your social calendar,” he snapped. “I would hate for you to miss an important call.”
“I need to go,” I announced.
He looked at me. “Excuse me? Lunch just started.”
I shook my head. “I have an emergency. I have to get to the school.”
“No,” he snapped.
I raised my eyebrows. “My son’s school called. I have to go.”
He turned to look at me, the knife still in his hand. “If you leave, you’re done. I’m tired of your emergencies. This is the lunch rush. I need someone here that is actually here.”
I winced. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“Don’t you dare do it, Willow!”
I untied my apron and tossed it on the counter. “Sorry, but my son is more important than this job or your threats.”
I walked out of the restaurant, knowing I needed the job, but Jake needed me more. I would find another job. San Francisco was a big city. I hadn’t run through all the restaurants and cafes yet. I had a rule about working as close to Jake’s school as possible. Lately, it was more of a necessity because I had to be able to get to the school on a moment’s notice. Working across town was not an option.
I walked into the school, and the secretary recognized me and took me right back to the counselor’s office. I didn’t see Jake sitting outside the principal’s office, which was a good sign. Unless he was stashed somewhere else. One never knew with him.
“Hi,” I greeted the woman I had spent more time with than I cared to admit.
“Hi, Willow, have a seat.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, wanting to make sure my baby was okay.
She sighed. “Jake is really struggling this year.”
It was hard not to automatically go on the defensive. “As in?”
“As in, he seems very angry. There was another altercation with another student.”
The use of another twice in the same sentence wasn’t an accident. She was making it clear my kid was the problem. “Did it result in violence?”
“No. There were some words exchanged, and it probably would have resulted in a fight, but it was stopped.”
I nodded. “Good. Do you know what the fight was about?”
She looked uncomfortable. “Jake said the other child made a comment about his pants being too short.”
I bit back my fury and my need to protect my child from a little bully. “Well, that wasn’t nice. How was Jake supposed to respond?”
She gave a small smile and I felt like she was patting me on the head. “I understand it wasn’t nice, but there are better ways to handle rude comments that really shouldn’t result in violence.”
“You said he didn’t hit him.”
“No, but Jake’s history says it would have ended up in a fistfight.”
I scoffed. “He’s nine. He isn’t exactly Muhammad Ali throwing punches.”
“No, but we don’t want this pattern of behavior to continue,” she said, trying to soften the blow those words held.
I nodded. “I understand. I’ve spoken with him again and again. He’s having a hard time.”
She cleared her throat. “Willow, I know you’re a single mom and it can’t be easy raising a spirited little boy on your own. This school—well, as you know, we are in a neighborhood where the majority of the children that attend here are from families with means. It isn’t right, but Jake is often singled out because of that. I hate to see him so angry and hurt.”
She may as well have just stuck a knife in my heart. I was the poor folk trying to step above my station by sending my kid to school with the rich brats. “Getting picked on isn’t going to make him happy.”
“No, it isn’t. I think a different environment might help him feel like he fits in. He would likely make friends and be more settled in general.”
I knew she was right, but it still pissed me off something fierce. Out with the poor white trash was what she was saying. Transfer him to a school with a lower socioeconomic profile so he could fit in with his people. “I don’t want to transfer him with only a few months left in the year.”
She nodded. “I agree. If you don’t mind, I’d like to start seeing Jake a couple of times a week.”
“Like therapy?” I asked.
“Like counseling. Helping him through some of the problems here at school. It’s what I’m here for.”
It wasn’t like I could afford an actual counselor. He needed help. I needed help. “I would appreciate that.”
“Great. I’ll talk to him today after school, just fifteen minutes or so if that works?”
I nodded. “He can go late to the after-school program.”
“He’s going to be okay,” she assured me.
I smiled, hoping she was right. “Thanks.”
I left the school feeling a little defeated. I had to do better for my son. Being jobless wasn’t exactly helping the situation. I wished I could get a great job making far above minimum wage. Unfortunately, I had no education. I didn’t have any experience, other than waiting tables and doing some telemarketing. I had gotten pregnant with Jake when I was twenty. I was thirty now, and my future job prospects were grim.
I was stuck. I was stuck in a rut, and if I didn’t find a way to climb out, I would be like Doris at my last job, sixty-two and still waiting tables. I would still be just barely making it.
It was hard to say what would happen to Jake if I didn’t find a way to change things. He wasn’t exactly pulling the grades he needed to earn a scholarship anywhere. I wouldn’t even be able to send him to trade school with my current financial situation.
I drove away from the school and parked at a central location that would allow me to walk to nearby shops and restaurants as I started my job search. There was no time like the present to start looking. I gathered applications from a few retail places before I came upon a café. It was a little more than a café. There was a nice outdoor eating area with velvet ropes meant to keep out the riffraff.
It looked like the kind of place that catered to yuppies and the local businessmen and women that worked in the buildings nearby. That meant good tips. I walked up to the counter to request an application. I scanned the area, noticing well-dressed men and women eating healthy sandwiches, soups, and salads.
Two men sitting at the table nearest me caught my attention. I heard them mention they needed to put an ad in with the local job service for a secretary. I studied the men, both dressed impeccably in what I imagined were very expensive suits.
The man with the jet-black hair and what I guessed were maybe green eyes, possibly hazel, had a permanent scowl on his face. The other guy, with brown hair and warm brown eyes, looked much friendlier. I wouldn’t mind working for him at all.
I could be a secretary. I was guessing the job would pay more than waiting tables and collecting tips. Secretary hours would also work with Jake’s school schedule. Weeken
ds off sounded amazing and would save me money on a weekend babysitter. I bit my bottom lip, debating what to do. Would it be too forward?
Being a chickenshit never got anyone anywhere, I reminded myself.
I decided to make my move.
Chapter 3
Ashton
I sipped the green tea, perfectly sweetened and very refreshing. It should have put me in a better mood. It didn’t. I was pissed. I hated being betrayed, and what Cheryl had done felt like a betrayal.
“You could have warned her,” Kyle said, always the reasonable one.
I slowly shook my head. “She would have done it again. She would have done something that wasn’t okay. I can’t deal with people who I don’t trust.”
“You’re not dating her. She was your secretary. She arranged your schedule, wrote emails, and answered the phone. What exactly do you need to trust her with?”
“You know what I mean,” I growled.
“Well, now you’re in a hell of a predicament. That’s your third secretary in the last year. You ever think your standards are a little on the high side?”
“I pay them well. I expect them to do as I ask. I don’t expect them to use their position as my secretary to sneak in their nephews. She had to have known there was no way in hell I would want their garbage in my shops. No one in their right mind would buy that shit. They have a better chance of selling it on the internet for a buck. They actually compared themselves to me. As if they have any idea about who I am.”
“God forbid,” he said with a great deal of exaggerated horror.
“You know what I mean. Did you see them?”
He nodded, a grimace on his face. “I did. I’m not sure what they were thinking.”
“Exactly! If she was any kind of aunt or secretary, she would have told them to at least put on clean clothes. I see it as her disrespecting me. She didn’t think about the time she took from me to have a meeting that was absolutely pointless. There was never going to be a chance I agreed to partner with them. That was pretty obvious.”
“It was obvious to you.”
“And you,” I shot back.
He nodded. “And me.”
“And now she’ll think about what she did when she looks for a new job. I won’t give her a good reference.”
He sighed, clearly not understanding my motives. I didn’t expect him to. “I guess it’s your burden to bear. She worked well when she was there.”
I nodded. “It is my burden, and no, she never worked well. She was subpar on a good day.”
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said, changing subjects. “I would have preferred it if you were in a better mood, but I’m not sure that’s even possible. I think this is your permanent mood.”
I frowned. “I’m not always in a bad mood.”
“You generally are. I have accepted that. We’ve been partners for three years and I know almost nothing about you, except you’re cranky and a hard ass. Don’t you think that’s strange?”
I shrugged. “Not really.”
He smirked. “Of course not. Do you want me to run the ad?”
“I can do it. I’m the one who got myself in this position.”
He nodded. “Damn straight you did. A little patience goes a long way.”
“Why don’t I just up your salary? You know the business better than she did. We could save on overhead. That would increase the bottom line.”
Kyle’s lip curled. “You want me to be your secretary?”
“It isn’t like she did a lot anyway. I answer my own emails, and hardly anyone actually calls. That’s what the other one is for.”
“You mean the receptionist?”
I nodded. “Yes. You’re my partner. You should want to make more money. The more money the company makes, the more money you make.”
He shook his head. “It’s sad you don’t even realize you sound like such a dick.”
That shocked me. It shouldn’t have. Kyle was always telling me how he felt. Everyone else kind of tiptoed around me, but not him. He was blunt. He didn’t give a shit if I threatened to fire him. He was my partner, at least a partial partner. It was why I liked him so much. He was real. He wasn’t fake like the majority of other people I had met in my life.
“I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m being serious. We can divide the duties and save money.”
He didn’t meet my eyes. I could see something was weighing heavily on his shoulders. When he finally looked at me again, I knew he was about to say something that was truly going to piss me off. “I’m not interested in being your secretary.”
“Okay.”
“I can’t be your secretary because I won’t be working for the company anymore. I have received an offer from another company, and it’s too good to pass up.”
I refused to show my shock or hurt. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m saying, I’ll sell you my share of the company. It’s yours. Run it like you want.”
“Kyle, are you seriously throwing a fit because I asked you to take on some extra duties?” I asked in a low voice.
“No, this is something I’ve been considering for a while.”
“What the hell?” I asked, barely keeping my anger in check.
“I’m not happy at the job. I can’t stay where I’m unhappy. There is no joy in going to work. I’m too young—or too old, I suppose—to be miserable at work. All the money in the world isn’t worth it if I’m unhappy.”
I schooled my features. It was another betrayal, but I wouldn’t let him know how much it stung. “I see.”
“I’m sorry to blindside you with this, but it hasn’t been easy to get you to sit down long enough to talk about this.”
I wasn’t going to beg him. “Is it the competition?” I asked.
“No. Totally different field.”
“This is what you want?”
He nodded. “It is.”
“How long have you been planning this?”
“I wasn’t planning anything,” he answered. “I get offers all the time, but none of them have really interested me until now. This one is too good to pass up. You’ve got a good company. You know what you want, and you are going to keep going up. You don’t need me.”
I didn’t say it, but I wanted to say I didn’t need anything. That would sound petty. My mind raced. I was trying to think of the right words to say. I couldn’t let him know how I really felt. Show no weakness. That had been my motto for as long as I could remember.
“Excuse me,” I heard a woman’s soft voice.
I looked up at a woman standing next to our table. She wasn’t wearing the same T-shirt as the rest of the servers, but I assumed she was a cook or maybe the manager with her white short-sleeved blouse and black slacks. She was looking at me with pretty, pale blue eyes that bordered on being almost translucent. She had on black eyeliner makeup that made the color of her eyes even more astonishing.
Her black hair was cut in thick chunky layers that rested just above her shoulders. She was pretty enough, but it didn’t excuse her rudeness.
“Yes?” Kyle answered. I would have ignored her.
“I couldn’t help but overhear that you were in need of a new assistant. I just happen to be looking for a job and know I’m perfect for the position.”
“You don’t know what the job is,” I snapped.
She offered a pretty smile. “Let me guess. I answer the phone, I type up documents, I get coffee and keep things neat and tidy while taking care of you.”
Kyle chuckled. I shot him a glare before turning my eyes back on the pushy woman standing too close to me. “What makes you think it would be appropriate for you to eavesdrop and then to come over here and insert yourself in our conversation?”
She laughed. Actually laughed. “When you’re talking loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear, you lose your right to be upset about someone overhearing you. I think of it as me doing you a favor. You’re in a tight spot. You need an a
ssistant, and here I am.”
I sputtered, stupefied by her boldness. “I’m not in a tight spot.”
“That sour look on your face says otherwise. If that isn’t what’s causing you to look so constipated, I would suggest you get more fiber in your diet.”
I felt like I had stepped into the Twilight Zone. Never had I ever felt so mistreated by a server. “Thanks, I’ll try and keep that in mind.”
She laughed again. “Oh no! I really don’t want you to think about me when you’re doing that!”
“We’re leaving,” I said, pulling out my wallet and digging through the bills until I found a dollar. If I’d had any loose change, I would have left that. That would serve the woman right.
I could hear Kyle’s laughter, which only pissed me off even more. I couldn’t believe the audacity of the woman. I had half a mind to call the owner and let him know he needed to fire the woman. I pushed open the door, using a little too much force.
I kept walking, moving down the sidewalk and away from the offensive woman. I spun around to find Kyle trying to hide his smirk.
“What the fuck was that about?” I snarled.
He chuckled. “She was trying to help you out,” he said, barely able to restrain himself.
I rolled my eyes. “We are never going back there. That woman was way too bold. And rude.”
He shrugged. “I think it says something about her. She took initiative. You could use that.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
His smile faded and things got serious again. I suddenly remembered what we had been talking about before we had been rudely interrupted. I was almost grateful for the woman’s interruption. It had given me a small reprieve from reality.
“Look,” he said. “This job, it isn’t going to wait. I need to take it.”
“Can you take the day, think about it, and I’ll reach out to our lawyer?”
Spring It On Me Page 2
