Page 13 of Drive

“I’ve gathered. And I’m not?”

“No, you’re my sister,” she said with soft eyes. “Means much more.”

“It better.” I huffed as we both shared a hesitant smile.

“Bitch.”

“Asshole.”

“See you later?” Paige said with a smile as she tied her apron around her jeans.

“If you’re lucky,” I taunted.

“I better get lucky. Don’t make me worry, okay?” She picked up her pace as she headed toward the porch of the restaurant then turned to look back at me, her expression maternal.

I let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. I won’t make you worry.”

“Need some money?”

“A little,” I clipped, hating my situation that much more.

She laughed as she pulled a twenty from her pocket. “I get off at eleven, so be back then, okay?”

“Lend me the car.”

“Forget it.”

Twenty bucks and a kickass T-shirt. That’s all I had on me when I strolled into the busy office ofAustin Speak, a city paper that was funded purely by ads and free on every newsstand. The building itself sat in a questionable part of town. It wasn’t a place you wanted to walk away from alone at night. Still, the few blocks I walked to get there got me a little more familiar with Austin’s streets, my home for the next few years. Austin was a mass arena of historical, commercial, and designer commercial. I had several reasons for wanting to move to the city, but the best one was the music. In my master plan, I’d always thought I’d work someplace likeAustin Speakto get my feet wet, though deep down I knew it would be a hard sell with my inexperience and lack of a degree. And I was sure the pay was shit. I would have to get another job to compensate for monthly expenses, but it was my first stop, and the only job I truly wanted while I furthered my education. I’d sent in a ton of different resumes and attached several articles I’d written, but hadn’t heard a word. Persistence wasn’t the only edge you had to have in the hunt, yet it was all I had at that moment.

The paper was bustling past the cheap, wooden reception desk. A fair-haired and freckle-faced receptionist that looked my age greeted me with a smile and appreciated Samuel on my shirt before she asked if she could help me.

“I want to work here. How do I get a job?”

Her laugh echoed throughout the joke of a lobby, and several of the staff members in the desks behind her gave a pregnant pause.

“Wow, you’re blunt.”

“Blunt, honest, hardworking. I would be an asset to this place,” I said, noting the retro, pea-green linoleum floors and chipped paint on the walls.

She raised her hands, palms up toward me. “Don’t try to sell me. I don’t pay the rent here.”

“So, who do I sell?”

“That would be Nate Butler.”

“Okay, may I see Nate Butler?”

“He’s in a meeting.”

I gave her a wary eye. “He’s always in a meeting, isn’t he?”

Her smile got wider.

“That’s your job description,” I went on, “isn’t it? Answer the phone and take good messages because he’s always in a meeting?”

She pressed her lips together to keep her laugh in. I planned on encountering nothing but slamming doors in my future. But I had just the right shoes to wedge my foot in for the Hail Mary strategy I would need to have to be taken seriously. I’d spent the majority of my time in junior college writing various articles that kept up with current artists. I had a hard drive filled with a few million words. It was atypical of me not to know the details of any endeavor before I stuck my neck out, especially for the job I was looking to land. But flying by the seat of my Levi’s was another skill I had to master to become a force to be reckoned with. So, completely unprepared, I stared down the receptionist, ready to do whatever was necessary to have an audience of one named Nate Butler.

“I don’t want to pull an ‘I’ll wait.’ I don’t have the patience for that hat trick. Help me out here?”