Apartment 311

Ch | 20

"What will be, hm? Toast and grapefruit?" he asked me, smiling warmly. I scrunched my face as he took my nose.

Exhaling, l said, "No. I think I'll have waffles and Turkey bacon, please."

"Coming right up," he grinned, shooing me away so I could give him space.

I walked over to Mom, figuring I'd sort things out before they got any worse.

"Good morning," I said to her politely.

"Morning," she snarled, not taking her eyes off the ebook she read.

I huffed and stomped my foot. "Mom, just because I'm moving out doesn't mean we have to be like this. I'm sorry for how I acted on the cruise, but you've been really pushy. I'm twenty-two, not twelve. I need-"

My iPhone rang. It was a phone call from a California number. At first I didn't answer because I didn't know who it could be, then I realized it was most likely Courtney from the email.

"Hello?" I answered the call.

"Hi. Is this Brooklyn?"

"Yes. Who's this?" I excused myself from the kitchen and ran upstairs to lock myself in my bedroom.

"Courtney Sinclair from Z.A. Co., the one who sent the email, how are you?"

I lit up, excited that this call was happening.

"Um, I'm great, actually. I'm glad you called."

"Did you have any more questions?"

"Not that I can think of right now," I let out.

"Good. I hoped I answered the rest in the email."

"Yes, you did. So, I guess I'm just wondering how legit this is? It seems so random."

She giggled softly. "Ms.Brankovich, I can assure you this is fully legitimate. We're offering you a place to stay while you work with us. I'm sending the address and job description right now. Did you get it?"

I refreshed my laptop a few times and saw her message. "Yes I got it," I said to her while scanning the page.

"If you're still unsure, I know your parents are professionals, you can bring them and we could discuss-" I cut her off at the mention of my parents getting involved. I'm grown and can handle it on my own.

"No, that's not necessary." I paused to think.

You know what, fuck it. I'm going to take the job and move to Cali.

"Courtney," I called her name.

"Yes?"

"I accept."

"Perfect!" She squealed and I heard her typing something up. "How soon would you like to move in?"

"Immediately," I declared, slamming my MacBook shut.

"Perfect. See you soon."

***

"Hey, Brook," Dad spoke to me after swallowing his glass of Pepsi.