Page 89 of Property of Bob

“Why the fuck not?”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You could’ve quit.”

“I did quit.”

“Before you confronted him.”

“Oh.”

He stared at me.

“That would’ve been smarter,” I admitted.

“Yeah.”

“Hindsight,” I shrugged.

“Jesus Christ, Ramona.”

I threw my hands in the air. “I didn’t think he was going to lose his mind.”

“What’d he do?”

“Yelled mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“He got pissed. Accused me of snooping. Told me I didn’t know what I was talking about.” What anyone would do when confronted with something bad they did.

“You were doing his books.”

“Parts of his books.”

“He threaten you?”

“Not exactly.”

Ash’s expression told me that answer wasn’t going to work.

“He said I needed to mind my own business.”

“That’s a threat.”

“That’s an asshole telling me to mind my own business,” I laughed flatly.

“What happened after you quit?”

I looked away.

“Ramona.”

“This is where it starts sounding a little more dramatic,” I winced.

“Tell me.”

I sighed. “I was looking for another job. I wasn’t planning to stay at the campground after that.”