Esme and the Money Grab: (A Very Dark Romantic Comedy)

Esme and the Money Grab: (A Very Dark Romantic Comedy) Read Free

Book: Esme and the Money Grab: (A Very Dark Romantic Comedy) Read Free
Author: Paloma Meir
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as a girl in her late teens and eventual early twenties. I’ll pat myself on the head for the one, thank you very much.
      He took me to his friend who owned a trendy little pizzeria on Ventura Blvd. I could tell the owner didn’t want to hire me. I was a pretty girl, long dark wavy hair, slim and tall figure, but still very much a gangly teen. The servers in his small restaurant all looked like supermodels. Los Angeles, even the Valley, is like that. Everyone is beautiful, very strange.
      The restaurant owner whispered to the landlord. I couldn’t hear what he what he was saying, but based on the fact that my landlord immediately after took me to a hair salon not far from the restaurant, and shopping at Forever 21, I would guess he was told to gussy me up if he wanted me to work there.
      I did not look like a supermodel at the end of the day, but I wouldn’t end up sticking out like a sore thumb. I wouldn’t even be eighteen for another week. I was very gawky teen, vaguely uncoordinated with absurdly long limbs. Deer-like is what kind people said.
      I should have been grateful or touched by this man, the landlord, who was going so beyond the call of duty to help me. And I was, but I was also numb in a way that frightens me now when I look back on that time. He seemed to understand.
      He couldn’t keep me on living rent-free in my family’s apartment indefinitely. He was a businessman, and he had barely known me before the accident. He set me up in another apartment in one of his other buildings to share with two other young girls. The rent was cheap, and I was making what I considered a fortune in tips.
      Life was as good as it was going to get for a recently orphaned girl. I cast aside my dreams of becoming a dental hygienist. There wasn’t enough money for me to go to the trade school. I probably could have asked the landlord for the tuition, but he had already done so much for me.
      I felt safe in my new world. I had always been frugal, thanks to the values instilled by my sainted parents, and I had my on again off again boyfriend Jack. It really all could have been so much worse, you know?
      A little over a year later into my new life, a regular at the pizzeria handed me his brother’s card. He told me that he liked the way I moved through the restaurant, never getting distracted or chatting with my coworkers (This really was a problem in the restaurant, pretty as they all were, they didn’t have much of a work ethic). His brother owned a temp agency in Beverly Hills. He said I could make double what I was making in the restaurant.
      I obviously didn’t believe him. I was making about 400.00 a week at the time. I was nineteen. I was pretty sure I was the richest girl in the world.
      Coming in everyday at lunchtime, the man pestered. I eventually went just to shut him up. I was sure his brother would laugh at me, and send me on my way back to the Valley, where people like me belonged. The poors.
      I definitely felt rich, but I wasn’t an idiot. Los Angeles has tremendous wealth. You can’t walk down any street without practically bashing up against the fender of a Bentley. But those people never seemed real to me. More like window dressing than actual humans.
      His brother did not laugh me out of his office. He took an instant liking to me. He said a pretty girl like me could make big money as a caretaker. I didn’t even know what a caretaker was, and truthfully maybe I still don’t. You work for Mr. Galloway for two years and tell me if anything in life makes sense.
      He paid for me to take a three-month night course to become a certified nursing assistant. He paid for the classes, but not my living expenses. I worked all day at the restaurant, and went to school at night. I was very tired and the antics of Jack, my boyfriend, were unwanted. We took a year-long break at this point.
      I graduated from the program and was placed into the sprawling Holmby Hills mansion of an

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