Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
He was sitting right by the window at a table by himself. With eight different drinks set in front of him along with two different cell phones.
“That’ll do it,” I murmured to myself as I reached for the door.
He didn’t glance up at the chime on the door, or even when my shadow fell over him.
“You mind? You’re fucking up my light.”
“Language.”
His head shot up.
“Are you stalking me?”
“No.”
He glanced out the window toward the pawnshop.
“Didn’t peg her as a narc.”
“She was worried about you. Don’t blame her. What are you doing all the way out here? And why do you have so many drinks? And an extra phone?”
His face went tight, his jaw ticking.
“Come on, kid. Fess up. We both know I’ll figure it out eventually.”
“I’m working.”
“You’re… working?”
I glanced around, wondering if he was a barista or some shit.
“Working doing what?”
Leaning back, he kicked out the chair across from him. I knew an invitation to sit when I saw one. Even if it was a little smoother than I expected from him.
I sat and waited.
“Last month, Moira Madeline came to this coffee shop every day and posted about it on her socials.”
“Moira Madeline?”
He rolled his eyes.
“She’s an influencer.”
“Alright. So, what does Moira have to do with you?”
“Nothing really. Except she made this place a hotspot for wannabe influencers.”
“Kid, I’m aging here.”
“Most of these wannabe influencers live in the middle of nowhere. And they don’t have the money to fly to the city. So they pay someone who lives here to take pictures like they’re here. Had sixty of them so far this week.”
“Sixty? Sixty people will pay you to buy coffee and take a picture?”
“Well, they pay for the coffee too.”
“This is really a thing? People pay for this?”
“Ten bucks per picture, plus the coffee.”
Ten bucks per picture.
And he had sixty clients this week?
“You’ve made six hundred bucks this week?”
“No,” he said. Then shrugged. “Twelve hundred.”
“What?”
“It’s not just the coffee shop. Lotta places people wanna pretend to go. I’d be making twice as much if I was a chick, so my hand could be in the pictures. But I get inventive.”
“How are you getting paid?”
“App. Don’t worry, I do it friends and family with a note attached saying ‘coffee’ so there’s no issue with taxes.”
“You’re making enough money to be thinking about fucking taxes.”
“It’s good to have a hustle.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Who said that?”
“Heard Miko say it to his brother.”
“So, is that what this is? Trying to prove that you can be an earner?”
“Maybe.”
“You wanna be Made one day?”
“We’ll see.”
He was playing it down. He absolutely planned to work his way toward that. I guess I could only be happy that his hustle was technically legal.
“What? You gonna forbid me?”
“From joining the Family? That’s your business.”
“What about this?” He waved to the coffee.
“Alright. I’m gonna let this pass. But there are going to be some rules in place.”
“What else is new?”
“Hey, I’ve been pretty fucking lax, kid. Work with me here.”
“Fine. What rules?”
“All that money doesn’t get blown. Start saving some of it.”
“Don’t got a bank account.”
“We can handle that.”
“Fine. How much?”
“Two thirds goes into savings. Still leaves you with more than enough money for a kid your age.”
“Fine. Except on occasion.”
“What occasion?”
“Concert tickets and Broadway shows. They’re a business expense.”
Christ.
Seventeen and talking about business expenses.
“Alright. That’s fine by me.”
“Anything else?”
“You need your location tag on. If you’re traipsing all over the city, I need to be able to find you.”
“Okay.”
“Curfew stands. Except they can push later on Fridays and Saturdays if you have events to… work at.”
“That’s fair.”
“You stay out of neighborhoods that are… problematic for the family.”
“I’ll need a list.”
“I’ll give it to you. Your grades need to stay up. Don’t gotta be a genius, but you need to pass.”
“Got it.”
“Don’t get your sister involved. I don’t want her in any of the pictures.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“I know that. I just want to make sure.”
“That it?”
“Yeah. Oh, but don’t throw any of this shit away,” I said, waving at the tabletop. “Plenty of hungry and thirsty people on the way back home.”
He nodded at that.
“Where’s Char?”
“The pawnshop with Alara. Talking books.”
“You can drop her here if you want. You can spend time with her.”
“With who?”
“Alara.”
“Why would I do that?”
Liam let out a huff of laughter as he leaned back in his chair, looking years older than he was.
“You think I don’t see how you look at her? How she looks at you? Call me what you want, but I’m not a kid anymore.”
“Starting to see that. But you don’t know what you’re talking about there.”
“Think I do. Hell, even Charlotte sees it.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Why? Because she’s Brio’s sister-in-law? Or because you’re older than her?”
“Kid, this is an adult topic of conversation.”
“Just calling it how I see it.”
“Well, you need your vision checked.”
“Sure, sure,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Now, you mind? I gotta get back to work.”