Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“That looks good,” Emily says when she sees me smiling.
“More work.” I glance at the clock. “I’ll reply and get ready for the restaurant.”
“You’re working too much.”
“When Mom’s working her dream job, helping to cure sick animals, it’ll be worth it.”
Emily stands up. “You’re right. Anyway, I’m going to take a shower. Let me know if you need any skulls busted.”
I have appointments open tomorrow, Thursday, and Sunday.
Excellent. How much do you charge?
Fifteen dollars per hour.
Did you miss a zero there, Bella?
I smile at the craziness of the question. Is he seriously asking me if I charge $150 for lessons?
No. I wish I could charge that much!
Fifteen dollars is incredibly low. My sister says you’re an extremely talented violinist. She’s watched all of your videos.
That’s so nice! I pause as a smile spreads across my face. It’s things like this that make all the sacrifices worth it. I honestly didn’t think anybody watched the videos. I thought all those views were just me refreshing the page.
You’ve got a fan, Bella. Now state a real number.
That IS the number. I can honestly say this is the first time anyone has tried to haggle so they could pay MORE.
A big mistake young people make is undervaluing their skills. If Sofia were ever to become a tutor, I’d consider myself the worst big brother if I let her charge that.
I’m not some little naïve idiot, I type, but then I delete it. His words have triggered something in me, but it would be a terrible business decision to let my true feelings show. Instead, I write, This is the amount I can charge considering my area and clientele.
Well, we’re paying more, so state your number.
Are you always this bossy? I type. Then, again, I quickly delete it.
I don’t usually feel the desire to joke around with clients, but the way he insists on paying more has me instantly convinced he’s a good person. Before I reply, I remind myself why I’m doing this. For Mom. For her dreams. I’ve literally got one dollar over the minimum amount required in my bank this month to make rent and utility payments. The last thing I can afford to do is be proud.
What are you willing to pay?
No, Bella, he replies right away. That isn’t how this works. State an hourly number that isn’t insulting to yourself.
I almost type out something snippy and pissed. The idea that I’m insulting myself by trying to give people in the neighborhood the best chance is insulting in itself. Maybe that’s why I decide to send something completely ridiculous.
Okay. $500 an hour. Let’s start there.
I imagine him laughing at this, maybe rolling his eyes, whoever he is. He clearly doesn’t want to take advantage, but that doesn’t mean he’ll let me take advantage of him. When his text arrives, I jump up, walk to the window, walk to the bed, walk to the desk, and walk in a circle. My heart is thudding like it’s trying to hurt me.
Done.
Are you serious? I type. What if this is real? I search my mind frantically for anybody who’d want to play a twisted trick on me, but I can’t think of anybody.
Yes. What times do you have available for tomorrow?
Let me check.
I rush through the apartment and knock on the bathroom door. The shower cuts off. “Yeah?”
“It’s me.”
After a moment, she says, “Come in.” I push the door open, struggling to get any words out. Emily is standing in a towel at the edge of the shower. “Whoa, what’s up?”
“Something crazy has happened,” I say. “I don’t know if it’s real. Some guy wants lessons for his sister. When I told him the fee, he said it wasn’t high enough.”
“I’ve been saying that for ages! Did he offer more?” Emily squeals.
“Yeah.”
“That’s good of him. See, there are still decent people in this world.”
“But it has to be a scam. Or a trick. Or something.”
“Why?”
“Because he agreed to pay five hundred bucks an hour!”
“What?”
I laugh shakily. “Yeah, those are my thoughts exactly. Now he’s asking if I’ve got any time slots tomorrow.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah, a couple, but this can’t be real, can it?” An idea suddenly occurs to me. “What if it’s Dad? He wasn’t a good person, let’s face it. He ran out on Mom—”
“And you,” Emily cuts in.
“He was an alcoholic asshole before that. Maybe this is his way of twisting the knife.”
“I thought he was in Vegas?” Emily says doubtfully. “I don’t see what he’d have to gain from this.”
“Who the hell would pay me five hundred bucks?”
“Maybe he’s seen your videos.”
“He has. Well, his sister has.”
“There you go.”
I sit on the toilet seat, curling my fist around my phone. When it vibrates, I almost leap up again. I need to diffuse this tension, but it’s impossible.
Are you there?
“Ask for a deposit,” Emily says, stepping from the shower. “If he’s seriously willing to pay that, then he’ll have no problem with a ten percent deposit, right?”