“I’d think your silence meant it’s not enough but I’m guessing since you thought I was going to pay you sixty five dollars a day that you’re shocked speechless. I’m glad we can agree on salary. Now, Barney will be here in ten minutes, and I’m not dressed to go. I need to get travel attire on and then pack a bag or something. Barney needs to meet you, and give you all the things. If you hate the car, we can negotiate that too. I buy local, and I’m sure I can get the car dealer I use, Debo, to exchange it for something you prefer. Drink up, Cat. Explore the place until Barney gets here. I need to go get ready,” she said, jumping up out of her highback chair. “Welcome aboard,” she added then left the room.

I sat there with my cosmo, suddenly alone. I heard her feet hit the stairs, and if she hadn’t said sixty-five thousand dollars, I would be sneaking out right now. However, sixty-five thousand would give me independence. It would pay for nursing school. I wanted to be ecstatic but I had so many questions that I hoped Barney was going to answer for me. If I had some idea of what it was this job consisted of and an idea of weekly hours then I would know if this unreal offer was going to change my life or not.

It wasn’t ten minutes before the front door opened and footsteps made their way down the hallway. A tall man with dark hair expertly styled, a smooth face with such sharp features it was without a flaw, and full lips stopped at the doorway to the room I was in. This had to be Barney. He was too beautiful to be a man, but yet, he was. His creamy mocha skin was to be envied. The clear blue of his eyes were almost like seeing the sky on a clear day through glass.

“Hello, Cat. I’m here to interpret everything that Lala must have just tossed at you. Her artistic brain is sometimes hard to follow for everyone but me.”

I smiled then and sighed in relief.

“That’s very good to hear. I have several questions. Starting with, what does this job consist of exactly?”

Barney smiled. “Lucky for you, it doesn’t involve understanding anything Lala chatters on about,” he said then took the pink leather journal she had tossed at me. “We will start with this,” he began.

TWENTY-ONE: THE NIRVANA

Twenty–One

The Nirvana