On the Brink (Vol. 1) (The On the Brink Series) Read Free

Thank you for finding it.” She threw a glare at Moxie. “I
knew it was here.”
    Moxie
rolled her eyes. “I’m glad your earring turned up, Luanne.” She turned back to
me. “Let’s get on with the transcription test.” She indicated an unoccupied
workstation.
    “Here
are some headphones. The test is five minutes of audio from a meeting. Here are
the guidelines. Remember that accuracy is the top priority; speed is the
second. I’ll be working at that workstation over there. Come get me when you’re
done.”
    I
thanked Moxie, glanced over the guidelines, and started the test. Forty-five
minutes later, I was done. A few spots were inaudible due to overlapping
voices, but it was the best I could do. I went over to Moxie’s station and
tapped her shoulder.
    “Done
already?” she said. “Berta’s going to hire you for sure, unless you’re dyslexic
or something.”
    “I
couldn’t figure out a few bits where people were talking over each other, but
the rest should be okay.”
    Moxie
printed the transcript, looked over the printout, and motioned for me to follow
her, leading the way back to the front office.
    “She’s
a keeper, Berta. Accurate and fairly fast for a newbie.”
    Berta
grabbed the transcript, gave it a quick glance, and nodded in agreement.
    “Ten
dollars an hour, unless it’s medical or legal. Then it’s twelve. If you work
six hours or more, you get a thirty minute paid break. Moxie, have Juliana put
her hours on next week’s schedule. Juliana, you can do the paperwork when you
come in for your first shift. Just remember to bring a photo ID.”
    I
contained my relief long enough to sign up for as many hours as I could fit
around my teaching schedule. The moment the elevator doors closed behind me, I
retrieved my phone and texted Duncan.
    Got the job!!!
    I
put the phone away as the elevator doors opened, not anticipating an immediate
reply, since Duncan was at work. I stepped out, and headed for the exit. The
businessman talking to the security guard looked familiar, and as I passed the
security desk, I recognized him as the man I’d seen outside of Starbucks
earlier in the afternoon.
    Once
again, I was struck by the combined force of his unusual beauty and aura of
confidence, the sense that he was fully in charge yet completely at ease with
the world around him. Probably another spoiled scion of wealth and
privilege—Cambridge had more than its share of those, and I’d long since
learned to keep my distance.
    People
like Mr. Confident came from a world and lifestyle utterly different from my
own. Their remote world of luxury cars, multiple mansions, and expensive
vacations, pictured on the pages of fashionable magazines, had nothing in
common with my life.
    For
the second time, I dismissed him from my thoughts. Basking in the relief of
having landed a new job, I passed through the revolving doors, and headed into
the empty street beyond with a spring in my step.

 
 
 
 
 
    Chapter
Three

 
    Several
subway stops and a fifteen-minute walk later, I reached the apartment. I let
myself in, kicked my shoes off, and closed the door, glad to be home. The
apartment was cramped and drafty, but at least now I could pay for it. Located
on the top floor of a bright blue Victorian with white trim, it was
conveniently close to the Davis Square subway station.
    In
addition to a kitchen, living room, and two small bedrooms, the apartment
included a tiny, unheated room that served as my painting studio. Although the
ancient kitchen lacked a dishwasher, and the bathroom barely permitted turning
around, I loved the battered but beautiful dark hardwood floors and the creaky
wooden pane windows that admitted generous patches of sunlight, filtered by
surrounding trees. When we first moved in, Duncan and I had painted the
apartment in warm, inviting colors and furnished it with an eclectic mix of
thrift store and IKEA items, creating a cozy, funky atmosphere.
    I
changed into pajama bottoms and a