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“Just because?” she asked.
“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll trade you the burger for half your fries.”
Her eyes narrowed, searching for the catch in my offer.
“Look, I don’t know many people in town, and I appreciate company while I eat.” I’d come to get some work done, but Marge’s words rattled around in my head. “Get out and meet some of the local people. It’s the only way to feel more comfortable.”
“You’re weird.”
“I’ve been called a lot worse.”
“Me too.” She took a handful of fries and placed them on my onion rings before she pulled the hamburger closer. “Thanks.”
After a few bites, she seemed to relax.
“Sorry to hear about your mom.”
“Yeah.” She fingered the scar on her temple. “She did it to herself. I’m over it.” The glistening of moisture in her eyes declared that a lie. “You have a nice car,” she said, changing the subject.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But I think the red is a bit much.”
“I’d do anything to have a car like that,” she said between bites of cheeseburger.
“All it takes is money,” I said philosophically.
She gestured at my uniform. “How do you afford it with that kind of a job?”
“I didn’t. I got it when I was doing computer work.” I tapped my trusty laptop. “Less dirty than plumbing or housekeeping, and it pays better, but it’s another one of those things they tell you only boys can do.” Her furrowed brow told me I had her attention. “You see, jobs get you money, better jobs get you better money, and money gets you freedom.”
“You can do that from here?”
“Anywhere.” I lifted another onion ring. “Right now, I’ve got an assignment that’s an analysis of site locations for a major chain of stores that wants to expand in this area.”
“Like Home Depot?” she asked. “Betty said they were going to put one in Scarsville, but it didn’t happen.”
“I can’t say who—that’s part of the contract—but you’ve got the idea. I do the analysis and modeling to find them a suitable location or two, and they make the decision whether they want to go ahead or not.”
“And you do all that on a computer?”
“A lot of it.”
“I could never get a job like that.” She fiddled with a fry. “It sounds too complicated for me.”
“The hell you can’t,” I said with more volume than I intended. I’d once believed that very same thing, and way too many girls like her did, though they shouldn’t. “You’re done with high school, so take some online college courses. I’ll bet the local community college has some. That’ll get you started, and you can work up from there.”
She stared down at the table. “We can’t afford that.”
“There are also some free classes online. You can start with those while you earn money for the college ones.”
She stared at her food. “I don’t have a job.”
I’d forgotten that. Stacy had mentioned it between plates of cookies. The solution stared me in the face, and I went for it.
“When I was your age, I was cleaning up popcorn and spilled soda at a movie theater overnight for minimum wage. I had to work my way up to—” I tapped the laptop. “—Good-paying work. You can do the same, if you work hard enough.”
“Yeah, right,” she said dismissively. “And here you are back to shit work.”
I ignored the dig. I tapped the hotel logo on my uniform. “This is a temporary thing to earn back money that was stolen from me.”
