The truth of the matter is that I have my aunt's debts to take care of. If it had been up to her, she would still have her little place in the valley, but money for her pets—or her "friends of the earth"—always seemed to come first. Apparently, that mattered more than me having a place in California. She lost her home around the first years I started at Sera Elganza, which also happened to be the worst time of my work life. It was as though he enjoyed criticizing me for every little thing in front of everyone. I'm not a crier, but my aunt heard me break down so many times that during that stressful period, it practically bonded us—her trying to empathize, me trying to survive. Yes, the promotion would have been nice, but I'll manage with the next job and the money I've saved. I deserve at least one year of peace.
Aunt Milly and I wandered through an Encino plaza, admiring boutiques. A week of hangouts like this—shopping, eating, existing—would be nice. Soon, it would happen.
"I'm really grateful for you," she said. "You came to live here and live the big dream, and you're doing it. I came to L.A. to become some famous yoga influencer, but—"
"You're famous in my eyes, Auntie. I've really met no one like you."
She cracked a toothy smile and looked up at the sky.
"Once the cleaning company lands another contract, I'll be able to help out more."
"Okay. Don't worry about it right now. Let's just enjoy the sunset."
I wrapped my arm through hers and knew that once I officially quit, there would be more sweet moments like this.
...................
"So—you're quitting? What other boss is going to reach the level of eye candy like yours at Sera Elganza?"
"Summer, anyone can replace that. If you want him so badly, apply for a position. I'll even help you get in," I sarcastically muttered over the phone, while arranging my room a bit.
"But Marcie, what if your next job doesn't pay as well? Your place is nice—like nice-nice. Tops any rental in Augusta, Georgia."
"I have a plan."
"But your hot boss?"
"He—trust me—will marry his mirror once I leave. That guy is so full of himself. Apply, I dare you. Then you'll see the hell I went through."
It was as if merely mentioning his title summoned the devil himself. A single text pinged mid-conversation with Summer, and of course, the sight of his name ruined my whole mood.
Fabrizi: Outside. Come down now, please and thank you.
At least he was learning how to string please and thank you together in one sentence.
Fabrizi: Outside your place. Red car.
My eyes did a double take.
My place?
I tiptoed downstairs, praying no one would witness me meeting Lucifer in the flesh.
He didn't open the door, just cracked the window and told me to get in.
I'm not used to sitting in the passenger seat with him, so when I climbed into the back, he gave me a baffled look.
"Yes?"
"You can sit next to me. I'll allow it."
You'll allow it. I almost laughed, resisting the urge to pluck the back of his head and bolt.
"It's fine. I'm comfortable right here, thank you."
"If you insist. It's just going to be hard to give you this gift—"
And then he plopped a whole cat—not a kitten—into my lap and flashed a smile through the rearview mirror like he'd just solved world hunger.
Hands raised, he waited for an applause or scream of joy. I could only stare in disbelief.
What a gift. Cue the orchestra.
"I usually don't give gifts," he said, leaning on that fake charisma he thought he had. "But for you, I looked at your profile at work and saw you love animals. Consider this my way of saying I look forward to working with you as my new director."
This man could not take no as no.
"I love animals," I began, trying to hold back a sneeze, which triggered the inevitable chain reaction. "But I am deathly allergic to cats."
Seconds later, my nose was on fire, my eyes streaming so badly it looked like I was crying.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over your admiration of me. You don't have to cry. I know how much this means to—"
By the time he tried glancing back, I was already out of the car, the cat scrambling on the floor, and me storming to his window.
"Where's the cage? You have a cage, right?"
"Yes, it's in the trunk, but why are you—"
Ignoring him, I snatched the cat, tucked it into the cage, slammed the trunk, and stomped back over to him.
"Mr. Fabrizi, it's funny how I know everything about you down to the details, and yet you know nothing about me. I love animals, yes—but I am allergic to cats. Thank you for the offer, but no thank you. Have a good night."
I stormed off, sinuses aflame. Great. Now I had to deal with allergies all night. Thank you to the best boss ever! Only two weeks left!