"Says you, not me."
"But it's still true."
Just when I thought he'd tell me to shove it, he smiled that famously cold smile of his and said, "All right, I'll make you a deal. You keep it up for four months, I'll give you a bonus at the end."
"How big of a bonus?"
He gave it some thought. "Double."
My breath caught. "You mean another forty thousand?" When I'd asked for a raise, I wasn't thinking of anything nearly that big. And for some reason,thiswas making me nervous, too.
He said, "But only if you make it 'til the end."
I tried to think.WouldI make it to the end?
For that kind of money, you bet your ass I would.
I forced a smile. "Deal."
"And," he said, "you start tonight."
My smile faded. "Tonight? What do you mean?"
"Look, Anna. We both know you're not stupid, so cut the clueless act, all right?"
I stiffened. "It's not an act. What do you think? That I do this sort of thing every day? Well, I don't, so excuuuuuuse me if I'm having a hard time keeping up."
"Right," he said, looking anything but convinced. As I watched, he strode into the hideous pink bedroom and opened a door on the far end, revealing a spacious closet packed wall-to-wall with clothing in a multitude of colors and styles.
I couldn't help but stare. They weren't men's clothes, that was for sure. I asked, "Whose stuff is that?"
"Yours," he said. "For now."
"What do you mean?"
He glanced at his watch. "I mean, find something to wear. You've got a manicure at five."
I glanced down at the outfit I wasalreadywearing.It wasn't that bad, was it?Then again, itwasolder than dirt.
But that was beside the point. I told Flynn, "I can't."
"You can't what?"
"The manicure," I said. "I mean, I've got to work at four, so…"
His mouth tightened. "You're workingnow."
"Well, yeah, but…"
"And," he continued, "if you think you're keeping the waffle job, forget it."
I gave a confused shake of my head. "What?"
"We're selling a story, remember?"
"So?"
"So the story sucks if you're still slinging waffles at Pinkie's."
