| |
Olivia
––––––––
“I’m telling you, you won’t get a better gig than working for Rourke Vega. The guy adores his mom, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy. He’s paying me twice my normal rate because I was a recommendation by his mom’s doctor. He straight up said he wanted to make it impossible for me to say no. You could set your terms, he won’t blink an eye at anything you ask for. And she’s not even his real mom, she’s his stepmom, but she’s been in his life since he was only five. All the ways he cares about her are adorable, but then there’s the man himself. Good lord, he is as five-alarm-fire hot as they say he is. The first time I met him I wanted to lick his freaking face. I had no idea why.
“The chiseled cheekbones, nose and jaw give him this hard look, but he has that dimple in his chin. And I swear his mouth looks so soft and kissable. I wanted to climb him like the mountain he is. You would be so lucky to get the job.” She does the dreamy sigh thing I have never heard from her in the five years I’ve known her.
I want to laugh but since Patricia, a forty-eight-year-old grandma, never goes gaga over a guy, I’m almost a little worried about how hot she thinks the guy she’s sending me to work for is. Fighting to cover my discomfort, I force a gasp. “Patricia, you slut. Is there any of him left or have you eaten all of him with your eyes?”
“Girl, wait until you meet him. Even you with your eh, eh, when it comes to men, you will go gaga over him.”
“I don’t know. I kind of hate Rourke Vega. I don’t know if I can work for the man. Let alone go gaga over the guy.” I shrug as I lie back against the headboard of the bed.
“What? Why? I never knew you’d met him.”
“I haven’t met him.”
“How can you hate the guy if you’ve never met him?”
With a sigh, I list his sins—yes, I kept count. “On account of the man is almost singlehandedly to blame for making Austin the hipster mecca, changing it from this nice, cool, quirky college town to douche central, with Whole Foods everywhere and Ferraris clogging up Mo-Pac and I-35. The guy owns a Bugatti Veyron and Chiron that he doesn’t even drive, seriously? And the racing in Austin is all him.
“He built those two different condo units along South Lamar and that one on First Street. The hotel in South Austin and the downtown one with the clubs that attracted all the pretty people like moths to a flame. He went and bought a tract of land and made it into a concrete village of strip malls and chain restaurants and an enormous theater. He’s changed South Austin completely.
“Ten years ago you could afford to rent a one-bedroom in South Austin for about five hundred, and now you can’t get a studio for less than eight hundred in the same area. He does all that then just leaves and becomes this playboy ho, flitting around the French Riviera doing princesses and actresses on yachts and balconies. The guy is a total manwhore.”
Patricia laughs. “Tell me how you really feel about the guy. He’s not the only guy who changed Austin, although yeah, he had a huge hand in it. He sunk a crap ton of money into the music festival and was one of the people to suggest the movie aspect to it.
“But hello, it takes two to tango, and it’s not like those women aren’t using him as much as he uses them. How is it his fault he’s so hot women drop their panties when they meet him?”
“I stand by the manwhore title. The guy is loaded, and what has he given back to the city?”
“Okay yes, he’s probably reached billionaire status, although no one knows for sure because he’s private like that. You know all that, yet you don’t know the guy has put in thousands for the homeless community? He’s also given hundreds of thousands to the LGBTQ community and veterans. He has the house flipping business that employs veterans on the regular, not per project, he even has it set up with PTO for when they can’t work. He’s not all that bad.”
Huh, I guess I skipped over those parts of the articles. “I haven’t really heard about all of that.”
“He also doesn’t get involved with his employees either, which you would technically be. From someone who has actually met the man, he’s nowhere near as bad as you’ve made him out to be. Besides, it’s not really him you have to worry about, it’s his mom and she’s a sweetheart. You’ll love her.”
“True, I might not be a fan of his. I am, however, a fan of money and no matter who they are, someone who would do anything for someone they love does sound pretty great. I’m also kind of on a clock. Janice and Mark leave in a week, so if I don’t find something else soon I’ll be sharing a room with my three-year-old niece.” From the room next door, I can hear Skyler and his mom laughing as she puts him to bed. Despite what Janice and her husband Mark think, they don’t need me as much anymore as they believe they do. Over the last year Janice and Mark have found a new comfort level with handling Skyler’s cerebral palsy.
They were close to putting seven-year-old Skyler into a living facility until Mark’s mother hired me as their live-in CNA and companion more than a year ago. There was a lot of anger on Skyler’s part for how his parents treated him. Janice and Mark weren’t sure exactly how to handle him and were stuck in a rut they couldn’t get out of it. I’ll miss them, but it is the right time to move on, even if they weren’t moving to Seattle. I was beginning to get too attached to all of them.
With my LPN I should be focusing on positions in hospitals, only I still wanted to get qualified as a registered nurse. It was easier going to school and paying for it as a live-in companion. There’s also a freedom that comes with home healthcare most people wouldn’t expect.
“Okay, give me the guy’s number. I’ll call him tomorrow.” I take down the phone number. As I do another call comes in, my sister Stella. “I got another call I have to take, I’ll call you later.”
“Let me know how it goes,” Patricia says as she hangs up.
“I will.” I click over to my sister. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I was checking on you, to see how you were doing. Have you found another job yet?”
There’s something in her voice. I sag as I force a smile into my own voice, even if I’m sure it doesn’t fool her. “Yeah, I do actually. All lined up. You know me, I’m all good.”
Stella sighs. “Oh, that’s great. Larry, he was saying he didn’t think it was a good idea for you to stay with us. I know you two don’t get along very well. This is a good thing. Even though I love your help with the girls, I was looking forward to you helping out but this—I, well...I’m glad you got another job.”
It’s petty, to let Stella dig herself deeper and deeper. She’s my little sister, I practically raised her, yet with Larry the asshole whispering in her ear I’m barely allowed through their door anymore. For the last few years, the time I’ve spent with them in between assignments has become more and more brief and tense.
Larry is controlling. He doesn’t like that he couldn’t control me or that I urged my sister to be more independent and go back and finish the college degree she abandoned to marry Larry and never got. He keeps a tight leash on my sister and their four girls, four girls under four because my brother-in-law was determined to have a boy. Never mind if my sister has a hard time delivering every time and she’s only twenty-three. I’m lucky if I get to see her more than once a month for lunch.
“Me too, so I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up even though I hear her saying something else. It doesn’t matter anymore. It doesn’t matter how much I miss her. Her husband takes precedence. I get it, but it still hurts. Scrolling through my phone, I find my brother’s number, the idea of calling Gabriel makes me smile. Gabe would only laugh and tell me it’s what I get for spoiling Stella. He would also offer me the only bed above his motorcycle repair garage while he took the couch.
I have money saved. It isn’t about not being able to afford somewhere to stay, it’s that it would have been nice to be able to stay with my sister. I’d also be eating into my savings for school.
Closing my eyes, I sigh as I key in the number for Rourke Vega and save it in my contacts. I’ll call him tomorrow, it’s after seven thirty and seems a little late to bother him. My contacts are few; there’s still the one for my mom even though the number has long been given to someone else. It’s been ten years since she died, and I tell myself every time I see it to delete it, but I can’t. I haven’t changed my carrier even though they are stupidly expensive just so I can save her old voice messages. Two: one telling me she was running late and asking me to start dinner, the other checking in to make sure my finals went well and to say she was proud of me. The last message was left three weeks before she died in a car accident.
Not for the first time, I blame myself for my sister putting up with her controlling husband. Of course, she thought it was normal when she watched me and my ex. As I do often, I wonder how things would have turned out if my mom hadn’t died; hell, if Dad hadn’t died either. It was pure hell when Dad didn’t come home from his tour overseas, when I was thirteen. Gabe was eighteen and had already signed up for the Army, proud to follow in our dad’s footsteps. Stella was nine, and I have no idea how my mom held it all together.
Compared to her, I failed miserably. When she died Gabe was on tour overseas, unable to come home for the funeral. It was just me and Stella. The original plan was to go Baylor. I had gotten in with a partial scholarship and was hoping to work my way toward being a doctor. My mom was a physician’s assistant, and I wanted to make her proud by becoming the doctor she always wanted to be.
When I tried to tell Stella we were going to Baylor, she lost it, refusing to leave her friends and her school. I folded like a wet paper bag, deciding to take the year off to find our new normal. In my mind it was only a year. I would apply to UT at Austin for the next year, or at the very least start at ACC to get the basics out of the way. Except I made the phenomenally huge mistake of getting married only three months later.
Connor was one of Gabe’s friends, I’d known him for years. He was checking on me and Stella the way he thought Gabe would want him to. I’d never seen Connor as boyfriend material. He was my brother’s annoying older friend. But in the three months following my mother’s death he was the white knight, the strength I needed to lean on so badly. I didn’t love him, though I tried to tell myself I did.
Only I didn’t love him, I needed him, so it made sense it was a disaster from start to finish. Controlling, manipulative, abusive verbally and mentally and constantly. My sister saw me take it all and smile through the pain. What right did I have to tell her it was wrong now when she watched me go through it on a daily basis?
I close my eyes tight against those memories. No, I’ve worked hard to move beyond the worst four years of my life. Let it go.
***
It’s just after ten thirty in the morning when I call Rourke Vega. From the rasp of his voice you’d think it was three a.m. “This is Olivia Casey. Patricia gave me your number about a possible position.”
“Five o’clock, my office. I’ll text you the address.” Then he hangs up.
Wait? What? I roll my eyes. Asshole. He didn’t even stop to consider if I had plans. I’m just supposed to drop everything to meet with him. The guy isn’t helping his case. My phone chimes with a text. It’s from Vega. I recognize the address: it’s on South Lamar, a bit of a hike from where I am now in Round Rock.
With traffic during what would normally be called rush hour but is actually parking lot hours from four until seven in the evening, the trip will be at least forty-five minutes; even without traffic it’s a half hour. It might be quicker on I-35, but I never take it. Too many eighteen-wheelers jackknifed and flattened cars—it was how my mother died. I stick to Mo-Pac, Capital of Texas, 183 or the surface streets to get from North to South Austin. It doesn’t matter that Janice already stopped working and will be home with Skyler so I can meet him at five. He doesn’t know it, and to assume I’m working around his schedule screams Rourke Vega is a self-centered asshole.
Going through my closet, I’m not sure what to wear. I haven’t worn scrubs in almost a year. Skyler didn’t like me in scrubs, hating the way they reminded him I was here to take care of him. I’ve been in leggings and long comfy T-shirts for a while. What does one wear to meet with an asshole billionaire for a job interview?
I catch sight of myself in the full-length mirror hanging on the inside of the closet. Seriously, is that woman really me? There’s the olive skin tone from my Hispanic mother and the height of five six, taller than the five foot one of my mother, from my father of German and Scottish descent. I recognize the brown eyes and long brown hair, even the small nose and wide mouth, but those cheeks...I don’t remember them being so round. I don’t remember me being so damned round. A size sixteen, I’m a freaking size sixteen. In high school I was a ten and hated feeling fat then. Eighteen-year-old me would be having a tantrum. Twenty-eight-year-old me is grateful I haven’t gone up in over two years. I’ve managed to go down, but I only get into a fourteen for a few months before I go up again.
Flicking through my small selection of clothes, I sigh. Janice knocks on my door. I tell her to come in.
“Hey, Olivia. I’m trying to get rid of the seafood salad. Would you like some?”
“Sure, if you’ll tell me what you think I should wear to meet with Rourke Vega. His mom had a stroke recently and they’re looking for someone to live in.”
“Rourke Vega? So that’s who called me about you last night. Wow, the guy is a stunner—don’t tell Mark I said that. I met him once, I swear I couldn’t remember what I was going to say. It was so embarrassing. Let’s see. I love this dress on you, the boatneck is a little flirty, but with the long skirt and in black it’s still business enough for an interview.” She hangs it up on the closet door.
I follow her out of the room, into the kitchen. We sit down at the table and she sets out the seafood salad with some toasted French bread and sweet tea. “You got a call checking on me last night? I only called him about an hour ago. The guy works fast.”
“Yeah, I didn’t say anything because I don’t want to get all weepy again at the idea of you leaving us. I got the call about eight last night. They said they were a security company doing a background and employment check. I gave all the usual compliments. Then they asked for more information, so I told them everything. How amazing you were with Skyler, and patient with us. That I’m still crushed you aren’t coming with us to Seattle, but we understand your reasons for staying in Austin. Now that I know you’re going to work for Rourke Vega, I wouldn’t want you to come to Seattle. This will be the most amazing thing for you.” Janice sighs as she brushes her carefully colored blonde hair from her forehead. She hates the cut but she’s been told it makes her look years younger, so she’ll probably keep it until she’s sixty.
“There’s no guarantee I’ll get the job. I have to meet with his mother, or stepmother or whatever. I’m pretty sure I won’t like him but he’s not the issue, she is.”
“How can you say that? Have you met him? He’s a really nice guy, oh right, I remember you bitching about him with Mark. How he’s the reason behind all the changes to Austin, making it more expensive, and with all these people moving here from California and New York. And forgetting the whole time we moved here from San Francisco.” Janice laughs as I blush. “Honey, seriously, this city was always bound to blow up big. It’s been one of the ten places to move to since the eighties. It was the reason why my grandparents retired here and my parents after them. And even though we’re going to Seattle for Mark’s job, we’ll be back when we are ready to retire, if not before.
“Don’t hold it against the guy he was smart enough and in the right place to take advantage of the boom. He worked hard for it, none of it fell into his lap. Also, it’s not like he’s the only person who helped change Austin, he’s just the prettiest face to put on the magazines.”
She’s right, her echoing Patricia makes me feel like an idiot. “I’m not saying my resentment makes complete sense. Maybe it’s the way he’s so... I don’t know, he looks impervious to cold weather, hale, and bombs detonating right next to him. Like nothing touches him.”
“Ummm, Olivia, are you unaware he was in the Army? He was actually Special Forces, a Ranger and almost died?” My eyes go big; I had no idea. “Yeah, the guy was in Afghanistan. He came under sniper fire, got hit in his right shoulder. He almost died and came close to losing his right arm. If he’d gotten the same bullet on the left side he’d be dead. The guy is not impervious to bombs or bullets.”
Holy shit, I’m the asshole. “I seriously had no idea. How have I never heard of this before?”
Shrugging, Janice refills my tea. “I have no idea. He doesn’t talk about it in interviews, but he mentioned it in a speech he gave for the veterans charity he has. It’s also the reason he’s so big on only hiring veterans for the real estate portion of his company where he flips, and for smaller home construction jobs, and they are given precedence over other hires for his hotel workers too.”
“Here I thought he was the asshole, and it turns out it’s me instead.”
“Well...” Janice grimaces as she chases a tiny shrimp around her plate, avoiding my eyes. “I wouldn’t say he’s not an asshole. Maybe asshole is kind of a strong word, though.” She finally meets my eyes. “I’ve heard he’s maybe a little arrogant, demanding, and he isn’t always nice about some things. But he can’t be that bad, his employees are all crazy loyal. My niece’s best friend works for him as a receptionist for his commercial property office and refuses to listen to anyone badmouth him.”
Great, now I’m back to being ambivalent about getting the job again.