Chapter One
Tessa
I had already walked by the address twice. It was a lovely house with its crisp white paint, black shutters, and a matching black roof. The walkway leading up to the door had little green bushes with pink and white flowers.
Manicured.
Yes, that would be the word I’d use to describe it. It was a far cry from any house I ever lived or grew up in. Each house that lined the perfectly groomed sidewalk had the same charm, and if I wasn’t nervous before, I certainly was now. I was now in the rich part of San Francisco. The part of the city that girls like me didn’t visit.
I kept trying to chant to myself that it was just an interview. Just an interview. I’d had plenty of interviews before, but this time was different. This time, it wasn’t for some shitty waitress job or tending bar in some dive. This one was different. So, so very different.
I still couldn’t believe I had found the courage to apply. It wasn’t like me to be so bold, adventurous, and yet… the minute I read the words, I knew I wanted it more than anything I had ever wanted before.
Wanted: Executive Assistant.
Looking for a live-in assistant, cook, and housekeeper to provide services to an author during the writing of his novel. Job will require residing in a secluded mountain cabin for a minimum of six months, and then back in the city after that. The ideal candidate will provide personal assistance in the publishing process, housekeeping, meal preparation, the overall running of the house, helping the author in proofreading, and other duties.
Please click on the link below and complete application. A nondisclosure agreement will need to be signed due to the employer working in the public eye.
The fact that the job required you to live on location—win. The eviction notice sitting on a crappy particleboard table in my small studio weekly made it quite clear to me that I needed a solution to my situation and quick. I had less than twenty dollars to my name, a laptop that sometimes worked, and a suitcase of cheap clothes. This pathetic existence had to come to an end one way or the other. All my life I had moved from one dirty motel to the next with my deadbeat mother who would rather drink or snort our dinner money than worry about her annoying daughter whom she’d only kept around so she could collect more welfare and extra food stamps.
Now, actually being an executive assistant? That was a different story. I had never even held any type of professional job before and considered myself quite uncomfortable around corporate types in general. Money, and all those who had it, made me uncomfortable. But… well, I had to do something. So deciding to throw all caution to the wind, I clicked on the link. I answered all the basic questions that were on any standard application, and I gave a silent prayer that maybe luck could work in my favor for a change. But there were some questions that definitely brought it home that I was applying for a job that was completely out of the ordinary for me.
Have you ever been a personal assistant before? No.
Are you prepared to relocate to a remote cabin? Yes.
Are you prepared to have little to no interaction with anyone but the employer? Yes.
Do you read novels often? No.
Trying to not overthink why I was being asked if I read or not, and wondering if it was a deal breaker if I wasn’t literary, I simply answered all the questions as honestly as I could and hit send. It was done, and there was no looking back. One day turned to two, but I finally got an email that asked for an interview.
I had stared at those words in disbelief. Had I made it to stage two? Was I actually being considered for the position? I wanted this. I wanted this more than anything.
So, as I rode the city bus to the address provided, I chanted positive words of affirmation over and over. A teacher once had told me to do so when the dark shadows came into my life. Affirmations. I still remember how I had never heard of the word, and the idea seemed ridiculous, but I did it regardless. It helped, and I’d been doing it ever since. But this time it did little to calm my raging nerves.
I had given myself plenty of time, not sure how long the bus would take and if I would even be able to find the address. So, when I did, and still had a half hour to stall, I just walked around the neighborhood. It was fun pretending that I lived in it, walking my dog, or having a casual stroll in the evening enjoying the fresh air.