Page 5 of Penalty Kill

The question caught me off guard. Was... was she hitting on me? “Um, yes.”

She nodded. “That’s good.”

I was about to ask her why she needed to know, but she turned around and walked back to her group without another word.

Well, that just made the whole experience even weirder. Maybe I didn’t want the position. They’d done a great job of freaking me out.

I looked at my completed applications as I walked down the sidewalk. It was time to turn these in.

* * *

I had just walked into my motel room that smelled like bleach and stale smoke when my phone rang with a number I didn’t know. It was a Salt Lake area code, so I answered in case it was about a job.

“This is Sydney.”

“You’ve moved around quite a bit. Why?” I vaguely recognized the voice, but the personal question caught me off guard.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

“Chloe Murray. We met at the café this afternoon.”

Ah, the intimidating brunette; that’s where I knew her voice. “I enjoy traveling and experiencing new cities. I don’t have anything to tie me down.”

“It seems like you stay in each place for six to eight months. Is that how long we can expect you to stay this time?”

This was a job interview. I could feel it. “It depends.” It was the best answer I could give her. I’d moved so much because I hadn’t found what I was looking for. A place worth staying. My wanderlust was too strong. The innate desire to keep moving propelled me from city to city.

“We would like a commitment of at least a year from whoever would be filling the position. The boys have had too much change recently. They need stability.”

A year. In Salt Lake. Did I want that?

There was no way of knowing until I settled in.

Emma’s question from the café ran through my mind. I did believe in fate. There were too many coincidences in life to ignore that there just might be an outside force pushing people together with perfect timing. I had to trust that this was one of those times.

“I’ve never found a place I wanted to stay for more than a few months. I’m hoping Salt Lake is different.”

She hummed. I doubted that telling her a palm reader on Bourbon Street told me I’d find my place near the salty lake would reassure her. She probably thought I was strange enough for walking up to them in the first place. Then again, she was calling. That was a good sign.

“I’m going to need a little more than you hope it works out here. Can you commit to a year-long contract or not?”

I was on the spot, but the idea of dealing with ornery retail customers all day was enough to push me over the edge. “Yes, I can.”

“Good. Your references had nothing but glowing praise to give. It was impressive enough to intrigue me despite your resume looking somewhat… uncommitted. I’d like you to meet Brandon and the boys on Thursday at eleven. Will that work?”

That gave me two days to prepare myself. “Sure.”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the address.”

“Sounds good.”

“Bye, Sydney.”

She hung up before I could reply. She didn’t seem the type to mess around, so she must have called my references if she trusted me enough to offer a position. I sat on the edge of the lumpy bed and looked around. Hopefully Mr. Fancy Pants liked me. I guess it was probably more important that his children did, and that I liked them.

A whole year. In one place.

Were the walls closing in on me, or was that my imagination?