Free Be Strong & Curvaceous by Shelley Adina Page B

I can do math in my head and keep my mouth shut. Oh, and I can make a really good
salsa verde
with avocado and
tomatillos
.”
    “That will come in very handy in a photography shop, I’m sure.”
    “It will at lunchtime. I’m good on the computer and I can use Photoshop.” Everyone in my design classes could.
    “CS2?”
    “CS3.”
    One eyebrow rose. “How soon can you start?”
    I gave him my best smile, hoping he wasn’t just being rhetorical. “Is right now soon enough?”
    After a moment’s consideration, he said, “Why don’t you fill out an application form so I have the basics, and then you can grab the Swiffer mop from the storeroom and have a go at the floors. There is Windex and a bag of rags for the glass counters. Get this place sparkling by five o’clock and I’ll pay you for two hours’ work.”
    I felt like shrieking for joy, but I restrained myself. “What is the pay, exactly?”
    I braced myself to hear “minimum wage,” but when he named a figure six dollars an hour over that, I had to grip the counter—creating mondo fingerprints I’d have to wipe later—to stop myself from giving him a big hug. “That would be fine,” I said in my most businesslike tone. “Thank you. You won’t be sorry.”
    “I trust not.” He rummaged under the counter and found an application form that looked as though it had been there a long time. “Once you have the shop mastered—which might take until tomorrow—I’ll show you how the developing equipment works.”
    Tomorrow. “Um, I can’t come tomorrow.”
    Again the raised eyebrow. I saw my brand-new income circling the drain. “Why not? We’re open Tuesday through Sunday.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
Tell him the truth
. “I’ll be going to church on Sundays. I—it’s something new in my life that I haven’t had to plan for before. But I do now.” Not to mention I had a thirdterm paper to write on the economics of marriage in Jane Austen’s
Emma
for English class on Tuesday.
    He looked at me as if I said I was learning to rob convenience stores on Sundays. “A churchgoing woman,” he said, “who can clean without complaint and make salsa on top of it. This is my lucky day.”
    I wasn’t sure if he meant that or not. “Are you still going to hire me?” I hadn’t even gotten a pen out of my bag to fill out the application yet. Talk about the world’s shortest career.
    “I’ve said I would. We’ll each agree to keep our beliefs to ourselves, and we’ll get along just fine. Your hours will be four until eight, Tuesday through Friday, with a half-hour dinner break at six. Saturdays ten till six. Will that suit?”
    I’d keep Sundays, but I’d lose prayer circle. “Yes. That’s perfect.”
    “Good.” As we shook hands on the deal, I told myself I’d figure out how I was going to get my homework done. Maybe I could bring it along and do it behind the counter if business was slow. And maybe I could convince the girls to move prayer circle to eight-thirty on Tuesday nights instead of seven, without telling them why. Not even my friends needed to know why or how I was funding my dress.
    As Gillian would say, I’d jump off that bridge when I got to it. The main thing was, I had myself a job.
LMansfield
Is Carly with you?
SHanna
No. I thought she was studying for the chem midterm with you guys.
LMansfield
Who’s studying? Gillian went somewhere with Jeremy and I’m sitting here working on my Hearst essay and feeling sorry for myself.
SHanna
Poor baby. I have an invite to a gallery opening off Union Square. Some friend of my parents. There will be food. Want to come?
LMansfield
Meet you on the stairs in 15.
    KEEPING A SECRET from your friends is harder than you’d think. Not because I was doing anything underhanded, but I was so happy about actually landing a job that I wanted to share it with them. Instead, I had to buckle my lips shut and look like I had nothing more important to think about than
Emma
.
    On Sunday, when Bruno,