Blood Trial Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #1) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,4

my eyes, scanning the other listings. “I’m not completely ignorant of life outside the estate.”

Her lips trembled. “You mean you’ve watched enough soap operas to piece us peasants together?”

“I watch Truth Ranges for the quality acting.”

“And we read Fernando’s Eighth Ab for the complex plot line.”

Sniggering, I ran my eyes over the other listings. Ugh, she was right. I certainly didn’t have a medical degree. Or an early childhood certificate.

A tiny listing shoved in the bottom left corner caught my attention, if only because the advert looked like it didn’t want to be found. “Hey, what about this one?”

Tommy peered over my shoulder.

“Realty trainee,” I read aloud. “It’s an apprenticeship thing by the looks.”

“Don’t bother,” she said dismissively. “Live Right Realty never hire outsiders. They must have a policy to advertise to the public, but they always promote and hire internally. I’ve gone for that job three times—and other people too. No one has ever been hired.”

I adjusted my glasses to read the advert again. “Really? It sounds perfect.” The pay cheque had to be larger than a pet shop assistant wage. At least a realty traineeship would have a better chance of promotion. Some of the neighbouring estates to Grandmother’s built their empires from realty origins. Not that I wanted to build my own cage when I’d just escaped one, but money was security in this world and, for the first time, I only had a minuscule amount. I needed enough to eradicate corporation corruption from the world.

My nerves came back in full force.

“I need to make a résumé,” I announced, glancing around the room for inspiration.

Tommy put the newspaper aside. “Tomorrow. We’ll need to visit the public library to use their computers and printer, and it closes at 4:00 pm. Tonight, I’m taking you out to dinner.”

“I can pay for it myself,” I replied.

“Y S I S,” Tommy quipped back, folding her arms.

I spluttered. “My snob is not showing.”

At ten years old, we’d developed a mnemonic that served as a warning. When I was with her friends, she’d say Y S I S—your snob is showing—to warn me I’d done something weird. When amongst my rich friends, I’d say Y P I S—your peasant is showing—for the same.

In this situation, when I already felt so out of my depth, I didn’t appreciate the jab. Unfortunately, my friend was immune to my scowl.

“If your snob isn’t showing, you’ll let me take you for dinner,” Tommy said, folding her arms. “Especially because my father will be back soon.”

My stomach chose that moment to remind me I hadn’t eaten since last night. And I wanted to avoid her father.

“Food,” I grumbled. “Then résumé.”

She cut me off. “Then job. Then apartment. Then destroy all the baddies. Got it.”

Someone was listening to me at last.

3

Dressed in my powder-blue silk blouse and black slacks, I slipped the newspaper into my pack and pulled out my freshly printed résumé.

I craned my neck to read the bright yellow sign. Purrfect Pets. A picture of a smiling dog and cat hugging each other completed the store’s branding.

Jesus.

I was at the right place, alright—back in Grey. After helping with my résumé, Tommy had quickly coached me on how job enquiries went down.

It was time to act my ass off.

Taking a deep breath, I forced my legs to move me across the pedestrian-only street where I pushed open the electric-blue door into the pet store.

The smell of three-day-old roadkill fell over me like a woollen blanket on a summer’s day. I shoved down the urge to gag.

“A woofing welcome to Purrfect Pets! I’m Jenny. How can I assist you right meow?”

Fuck me.

Would I have to say that?

Spinning to face a stout woman, I hastily schooled my features into a disarming smile—growing up rich had taught me some things. “Hi, yes. Thank you, Jenny. I’m Basi. I saw your job advert in the paper and would love to submit my résumé for consideration.”

A pent-up breath quivered in my chest.

The woman’s pleasant expression dropped, and I blinked at the change. She reached to tuck her frizzy hair behind her ears. The hair popped out again as she scanned me from head to toe. “You want to work here? At this pet shop?”

Too late to question my wardrobe choice. Thinking fast, I kept my smile at full wattage. “I do. I’ve just come from brunch with my aunties.” That I didn’t have.

The woman’s eyes narrowed. Was she the owner? I really hoped not. The way she was circling had me wondering if