and murmur from Monday.
The smile slid from my face.
The place was a ghost town. No one stood behind the desk.
I’d just taken on a fucking rental. And the thousands I’d spent on furnishing it. Shit. I mean, there was enough money for food and transportation for the rest of this week. But nothing at all for next week.
I’d made a terrible mistake. I’d—
“Basi. I’m glad you made it,” Angelica strode from an office to the left of reception.
My heart galloped. In relief—or so I told myself. It was possible that I’d really downplayed how uncomfortable her eyes made me feel. The bright blues fixed on my clothing, scanning me from head to toe. When she returned to meet my gaze, her expression was empty of disgust or disappointment.
After her attention to my expensive items on Monday, I was happy to note her reaction to my cheap outfit. Tommy was wrong, I wasn’t hired for my connections. That was a win.
“Good morning, Angelica. Am I early?”
I was.
She smiled, and I noted the dark smudges of fatigue beneath her eyes. Kind of surprising that I could make out any facial detail within ten centimetres of those blazing orbs.
“No, no. The other staff usually schedule house visits and clients for the first half of the day. They come into the office later.”
Oh… “Realty businesses don’t keep normal work hours?”
“Not us,” she said, her eyes flashing in anger.
I froze for a full five seconds.
Angelica blinked a few times, and I sucked in a ragged breath, heart pounding in my ears.
Holy fuckery, Angelica was terrifying when she lost her temper. The woman tilted her head, and the ferociousness drained from her face, allowing me to unlock somewhat.
“I just meant that waking up later must be nice. I’m a night owl,” I forced myself to say.
If she pulled that shit again, I was leaving. I didn’t even understand why she made me feel so scared, just that she did. Except I couldn’t leave now. I’d used my money to outfit the rental and had rent to pay on Sunday.
Fuck. I’d backed myself into a corner.
“A night owl?” The concept seemed to amuse her. “I can relate to that.”
Probably the only thing we had in common.
She recovered the brisk manner from two days prior.
“There are a few things to sign before I start your initiation,” the woman said.
Ugh. This was the bank account and tax number part.
A long call yesterday, with a long enough hold time that I swore I visibly aged, got me through to the tax office. They’d confirmed I had no tax number. After a transfer to another department, I’d discovered that a tax number took three to six weeks to process and I’d need two forms of identification and proof of address. I had one form of ID—my learner’s driver’s licence. I only sat the stupid test so I had something to get into clubs with.
“About that,” I said, my gut churning. “I wrote down my tax number, but I’m in the middle of moving, and for the life of me, I couldn’t find the bit of paper.”
Tommy had dutifully jotted down her bank account and tax details for me this morning. While she did that, I searched and found that what we intended to do was tax fraud—with consequences neither of us could afford.
Just like Tommy not to say a damn thing. I wasn’t putting her in that position. I’d have to file for a tax number as soon as possible and delay Live Right in the meantime.
My gaze dropped with the lie, but a peek upward yielded surprising results. Angelica looked amused again.
The slight quirk of her lips was gone in a blink.
My brows wrinkled at her smooth expression. Had I seen amusement? Maybe it was a trick of the light.
“Don’t worry about any of that,” she said, flashing a smile.
I swallowed at her teeth.
I felt… threatened by her teeth. What the hell? Was it because they were so white? I’d visited Bali a few times and been harassed by monkeys for food. To them, smiling was a sign of aggression. Which meant that if her smile got my back up… I was a monkey.
But what did that make Angelica?
“Basi?”
Crap. “Um. Don’t worry?” I asked weakly.
Her head was tilted again. “We pay in cash.”
“Really?”
“You’re required to pay tax yourself, of course. You’re a contractor—except we pay you annual leave, sick, and grievance days. It’s easier for the books if we pay in cash.”
I registered the term contractor and very little else.