The Girl I Didn't Kill For (Jessie & Nick Book 2) by Annabelle Costa

Author:Annabelle Costa [Costa, Annabelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rose Bud Press
Published: 2017-11-12T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Jessie

That big mouth Sidney Lovitz gets to work at nine o’clock in the morning. By eleven o’clock, my boss Rob Donahue comes by my cubicle and leans over the wall in that way that always makes me scared he’s going to knock the whole thing over. I wouldn’t even mind because I find this stupid cube so claustrophobic that some days I want to tear the sides down myself.

Rob has been my boss for about five years, but I wouldn’t say we’re friends. I’d say we’re friendly. He’s about fifteen or twenty years older than I am, and it’s safe to say we have nothing in common aside from both being involved in data analysis for a pharmaceutical company. I can’t say we’ve had one non-work-related conversation in all the time I’ve been here. I think Rob has kids. Two, maybe? A wife, I suppose? Pets? The truth is, I don’t really care.

But I suspect today we’re going to have quite an interesting conversation.

“Jessica,” he says in an odd tone of voice I’ve never heard before. It’s stern but there’s a little bit of a laugh behind it. Like he’s a parent forced to yell at his kid for pulling down their grumpy neighbor’s pants. “Would you come to my office for a chat?”

There isn’t too much mystery behind this one. As I do the walk of shame to my boss’s office, I can hear everyone whispering and staring. I hate stupid Sidney Lovitz. I hope he loses those last few strands of hair he’s still clinging to.

When I get inside Rob’s office, he shuts the door behind him, and gestures at the seat in front of his desk. Once I’m seated, Rob looks me over carefully. Today, I’m the opposite of that sexy girl I was trying to be last night. My blond hair is pulled back in a tight bun, I’m wearing my best pair of mom pants from Sears, and I’ve got on a beige sweater my mother gave me that I think my grandmother had once owned. The knitting on it is “exquisite.”

Rob squints at me and I can tell he’s trying to see it. Trying to figure out how a woman who comes to work in mom pants and a grandma sweater could be a nightclub singer.

“So it’s come to my attention,” Rob says, “that you’ve taken on a second job…”

He raises his eyebrows at me for confirmation. I could deny it, but the truth is easy enough to confirm. I may as well face the music.

“A singing job, yes,” I admit.

“At a nightclub?” Rob still seems baffled. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so terrified I’m about to get fired.

“Cleopatra’s Lounge,” I say. “It’s a very popular and well-respected establishment.” I stick up my chin. “The New York Times said so.”

Rob leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. “Listen, Jess. I’m going to be straight with you. We can’t have one of our employees dancing at a sleazy nightclub.”

“I’m singing,” I say weakly.

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