Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
“Out we get Owie.”
He smiles up at me and grabs his little comfort blanket and book from the seat, climbing awkwardly out of the car. I bend down and straighten his shirt and pants. “Are you ready to see our new house?” I whisper with excitement.
He smiles as he looks at the house in awe, and we walk hand-in-hand up the path toward the house.
I shuffle through my bag to find the keys that we have just picked up from the agent. I feel my nerves flutter. This house feels too extravagant for us, but I have a plan as to how I’m going to pay for it.
I didn’t want to live hours away from my mom and be unhappy in a dump.
I wanted to come home to a beautiful house each day. I want Owen to be proud to have friends over. I want to make new friends, adult girlfriends, and be able to ask them over for dinner without being ashamed of where I live. I have a job interview tomorrow at a club, working behind the bar. I’ve never done anything like it before, but with the freedom of moving where nobody knows me, I don’t care anymore. For the first time in forever I don’t care what people think of me. For so long I refused to work in a nightclub. It was as if I was ashamed of what I had become…
A single mother who worked at night in a club to support her kid.
A failure.
I thought that, down the track, if Jenna moves home and we are short on cash, I could find a young girl from the hospital that may want to board with us. That’s the plan anyway.
I slowly open the large front double doors. Owen gasps and I grin.
“Wow,” he whispers.
I bite my bottom lip to stifle my broad smile as my eyes scan the large room. There’s a grand foyer with high ceilings and a lounge room to the left. I open the door to the right and find a double garage.
He squeals in delight.
I laugh out loud.
We walk through to the end of the hall and find a large, slightly dated kitchen, with a second living area and dining room with a bathroom off of it. A large bedroom with its own entrance is at the side. This will be Jenna’s room while she is here, and there’s another small bedroom to the left. I put my hands over my mouth in disbelief. Oh my God, this house is fucking fantastic.
I love it.
Owen runs ahead in excitement up the carpeted stairs. “Where’s my room? Where’s my room?” he calls out.
I run up the stairs after him, and stop dead when I get to the top. Holy shit. This is… are we in the right house? Three bedrooms, a bathroom, and then double doors at the end of a large walkway.
I open the double doors and my mouth drops open. A parents’ retreat, a lounge area that opens onto a large bedroom, with its own bathroom and a walk in closet. Double doors open to a balcony that looks out onto the street. Windows and expensive drapes are on every wall. It’s slightly dated, but hell, it’s the best damn house I have ever seen. I beam at the sound of Owen’s squeals of delight.
“This room, I want this room!” he calls.
I run up the hall to the other end of the house and find him in the front room, and take him in my arms. “Do you like it, baby?”
For the first time in a long time, I feel proud of myself.
He nods as he grips my legs, and the sound of the moving truck out front stops us.
He laughs out loud. “I like LA, Mom.”
I take him in my arms and squeeze him hard. “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”
I sit in the waiting room as my eyes scan the other girls while we all wait for our job interviews. I glance down at my attire and cringe.
I’m overdressed.
I don’t mean overdressed as in over the top clothing. I mean I’m literally overdressed—wearing too many clothes. These girls are all gorgeous. Gorgeous hoes.
Cheap looking, busty, gorgeous hoes.
I frown as a disturbing thought runs through my mind. Fuck! What kind of club is this?
I quickly take out my phone and Google:
Club Exotic, LA
My phone takes forever, and I get the ring of death as it thinks. I glance up to the interview office. Thankfully the door is still closed.
Shit, hurry up and load, you stupid thing. I may need to run like the wind to get out of here. In the job applications it didn’t say anything questionable… or did it? I quickly open the interview confirmation email and scroll through it in a panic.
Surely not.
I was appalled at being a bartender, but maybe this is normal bartender attire?