Free The Breakup by Brenda Grate Page B

don’t get it treated right away, it’s going to get worse. You’re allergic to the vines.”
     
    “Allergic?” Aja rushed past him, frantically looking for the first-aid room and the promised salve.  
     
    He followed, laughing. “It’s not deadly. You’ll be fine, but you’re not going to be able to work in the fields, Aja.”
     
    Marco squeezed Aja’s upper arm and directed her into a small room near the back of the house. He led her to a bench and began pulling various items out of the cupboards, mumbling to himself.
     
    He probably did something to the vines to make me react to them. She held her arms out and sucked in her breath. They were bright red and sore looking. She couldn’t believe how quickly it had spread.
     
    “Please hurry, it’s getting really bad.”
     
    “Marco,” he said.
     
    Aja stared up at him in confusion.
     
    “Marco. My name is Marco.”
     
    “Oh. Nice to meet you. And my name is Aja. A-J-A, not Asa. It’s pronounced like the continent.”
     
    “Pleased to meet you Aja.” He took her arm and started spreading a sticky salve over the rash. It surprised Aja how quickly the itching eased. The warmth of Marco’s hand was too pleasant for Aja’s comfort and she decided she didn’t like it a bit. She kept repeating it over and over in her mind while he ran his hand up and down the inside of each arm. She kept her head turned away and thought of kittens and clowns, anything to distract herself. There was no way she was attracted to the boss’s arrogant son.
     
    When he was done, Aja snatched her hand back and stood up. “Thank you, Marco. I guess that’s it. I better leave now.”
     
    She felt dejected that her first job had to end so quickly and for such a stupid reason. Allergic to the grape vines. Who the hell is allergic to grape vines?
     
    “Aja, wait. I’ll be right back.” He left without another word, apparently believing she would wait just because he told her to. She waited.
     
    While he was gone, Aja looked around the room. The villa seemed small from the outside, but inside it was spacious. The walls were rough and painted beautiful, earthy colors. The rooms she’d passed seemed to be painted all slightly different shades. It looked lovely, like a garden.
     
    She spent a few minutes dreaming of owning her own villa before the fantasy was interrupted by Nona. Marco wasn’t with her.
     
    “Aja, let me see.” She had motherly concern on her weathered face.
     
    Aja held her arms out for Nona to see.
     
    “Oh, you poor girl.” Nona sat beside her on the bench and pulled her arm closer. “I’ve seen this before. You couldn’t have known it would happen. Don’t worry, I convinced Marco to let you work somewhere else.
     
    Aja’s head shot up. “You did?”
     
    Nona smiled, her face suddenly beautiful and Aja caught a glimpse of what she must have looked like as a young woman.  
     
    “Thank you, Nona.” Her eyes watered. It was a relief that she didn’t have to try and find work elsewhere.
     
    Nona barked out a laugh, oddly large for such a small woman. “Keep your thanks until you know what the job is.”
     
    “I don’t mind as long as it doesn’t give me a rash.”
     
    “It might,” she said, her tone cryptic.
     
    Nona took Aja’s hand and let her out the back of the villa to a small, quaint building. “It might give you diaper rash,” she said with a flourish and threw open the door.
     
    In front of her were about fifteen kids in various stages of development; from newborn all the way to two and three-year-olds.  
     
    Aja groaned. Diaper rash indeed. Very funny. She glared at Nona for a second, forgetting that it was still a job, something she very much wanted. There was only one problem. Aja had never gotten close to a child, let alone had to care for one. She was probably less qualified for this job than the last one.
     
    “We have this place for the ladies to leave their children while they work. Just today the