Total pages in book: 191
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
“I’m sure I can find someone willing to get some overtime if you aren’t.”
Here we went again.
I kept my face blank and said, “I’m sure you can.”
Asshole.
That freaking settled it. Come hell or high water, I was going to get the hell out of this place.
I was going to find Deepa another job somewhere else. If I got bored at home, I could learn a hobby. Maybe I could learn a language. Volunteer.
Gunner grimaced, clearly irritated, and pointed at the sheets I had in front of me. “Make sure you get through that list before you leave.”
I didn’t even bother giving him a fake sweet smile, instead settling for a nod. Just one. He didn’t deserve more than that.
And, fortunately, about three seconds after he finished bitching at Deepa about keeping busy, that was when my phone vibrated with an incoming message.
I peeked at it the second he’d moved far enough away.
It was Zac. Again.
512-555-0199: You free tonight?
Tonight?
Me: Yes.
Why?
He answered my question with his next text.
512-555-0199: Can I pay you to take me to a dealership?
Frowning, I looked up to make sure no one was paying attention to me and then texted him a response.
Me: Pay me??
And why would he ask me and not Trevor or CJ or one of the other three hundred people he apparently knew?
512-555-0199: With money.
I made a face at my screen and thought about it for a minute.
Me: Get real. You’re not paying me. I can take you. Let me know when you want to go.
512-555-0199: You sure?
I mean, I wasn’t but… I was.
I could do it, so I would. If you could do something for others—at least decent human beings, not counting Gunner because he was a shithead—then you did it. It was that simple.
Me: Yes.
The snapping of fingers had me glancing up.
Deepa was glaring. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do.”
Shit.
* * *
“Hi, CJ.”
CJ full-on smiled at me as he opened the door. “Hi, Bianca.” His gaze went straight to my hands.
My empty hands.
“I didn’t bring any snacks. I haven’t filmed yet,” I told him. “I’m planning to at the end of the week.”
Because it was true.
After that last conversation with Gunner, I knew I needed to get out of the gym. I needed to get Deepa out of there. She had a good heart, and she was smart and detailed, but there were a couple people who I didn’t trust or like that she was too friendly with. She had moved to Houston for school, but I knew she hadn’t registered for this upcoming fall semester. I kept on top of her because I knew no one else other than her mom did, but….
I had to pick my battles, like I was sure Connie had to do with me plenty of times.
I knew how lucky I’d been that, even though my parents hadn’t been very active in my life, I’d had other people who stepped up and held me accountable. That rooted me. The older I got, the more I realized how important things like that were.
That was partially why I wouldn’t just leave her knowing her only family member was a few hundred miles away.
If anything, I was just so much more grateful to have something waiting for me outside of the gym.
Hating my boss was exhausting. There were good parts and bad parts about focusing all of my time on The Lazy Baker, just like with every job. People talked a lot of shit in the comments section and in social media, it was a lot of work since I did just about everything myself, and it was a hell of a lot more stressful now. It hadn’t been years ago. But that was before I’d started to see it as more of my future and less as a fun hobby I did on the side.
“There was no such thing as a perfect job,” Boogie had told me one day when I’d gotten one of the first ugly comments on my videos and he’d found me crying.
But if I was going to get pissed off, at least it would be on my own terms.
And even though I had never started vlogging with any real expectations, it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to take it to the next level if I could. You didn’t squander opportunities in life—at least I wouldn’t.
So I was going to do this shit and do it right.
Part of that was to finish putting together my recipes and finally hire a photographer for my cookbook. I also needed to see about revamping my site so I could have more space for ad revenue on it. Lastly, I needed to make more business-conscious steps too, because I hadn’t taken advantage of my reach until almost too late. I hadn’t taken it seriously enough for too long.
But that was shit to think about at work or at home. My plan B, C, D, and all the ones after that. My future.