Eight Days a Week
Authors: Amber L Johnson
Chapter 8 Do You Want to Know a Secret
Chapter 13 I’m Happy Just to Dance with You
Chapter 19 I Don’t Want to Spoil the Party
Chapter 22 I Wanna Hold Your Hand
Chapter 25 You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away
Chapter 26 With a Little Help From My Friends
Chapter 30 Baby, You’re a Rich Man
Chapter 31 All You Need is Love
Eight Days a Week
By
Amber L. Johnson
First published by The Writer’s Coffee Shop, 2014
Copyright
©
Amber L. Johnson, 2014
The right of Amber L. Johnson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the
Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
All characters and events in this Book – even those sharing the same name as (or based upon) real people – are entirely fictional. No person, brand or corporation mentioned in this Book should be taken to have endorsed this Book nor should the events surrounding them be considered in any way factual.
This Book is a work of fiction and should be read as such.
The Writer
’
s Coffee Shop
(Australia)
PO Box 447 Cherrybrook NSW 2126
(USA)
PO Box 2116 Waxahachie TX 75168
Paperback ISBN- 978-1-61213-329-4
E-book ISBN- 978-1-61213-330-0
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the US Congress Library.
Cover Image and Design: L.J. Anderson
www.thewriterscoffeeshop.com/ajohnson
Dedication
To Lori, who loved Dee first.
Chapter 1
Help!
Growing up is not all it’s cracked up to be.
As a kid, I couldn’t wait to be an adult. Now that I was one, I wished I were eight years old again. Or maybe ten.
“How am I supposed to find a job when the economy is in the shitter?” I crumpled the newspaper my sister had given me and sighed in her direction.
“You know what? You should stop complaining and just hit the streets with your resumé.” Cece slid a plate of eggs under my nose and pointed to them. “After you drop me off at work, you can do just that. But I have ten minutes before I have to leave, so eat up.”
“What resumé?” I jammed my fork into the rubbery mess and made a face. “Remind me to teach you how to make a decent plate of these tomorrow.” I chewed with my mouth open just to piss her off and then spat out the offensive mess and shoved the plate in her direction.
Her foot came out of nowhere and slammed into my shin, and I cursed.
Damn those pointy heels.
She sipped her coffee with an innocent look. “Test me again. I’ll shave your eyebrows off in your sleep.”
“Not if I get to you first.”
On the drive to her office, I maneuvered around the other cars with ease, but she held on to the BMW-1’s oh-shit handle until her knuckles turned white.
“Please curb your instinct to kill me. I need to get to work in one piece. And I’d like to have a family one day.”
“Have I been in a wreck yet? No. You should trust your brother a little more. Plus, this vehicle was made to be driven in the great wide open. Why would you buy a car like this just to go the speed limit?” I switched lanes, narrowly missing the bumper of the SUV in front of me.
I glanced over at her, and she was holding her breath. Then she exhaled and counted to ten very quietly.
“How are those yoga classes working, by the way?”
Cece flipped me off.
“Ah, Namaste to you, too.”
Once I’d parked, she finally inhaled and unbuckled her seat belt. “I’m serious about getting a job, Andrew,” she said as she climbed out of the car. “Check Craigslist.”
I rolled my eyes, but she was already walking away. I’d checked Craigslist. And Indeed. And Monster. There were very few opportunities for a guy who didn’t have a steady job history. And if I was being honest, I spent a lot of my time on Craigslist reading the filthy posts about potential threesomes.
Instead of going home, I drove to my friend Xander’s house. He’d left the door unlocked, so I walked right in and stopped at his refrigerator since I’d opted out of the shitty food my sister made.
“Hey,” I said, but he barely acknowledged my existence.
After making a cheese sandwich, I settled next to him on his red velvet couch. It was old and smelly and there were rips in the fabric, but it was comfortable, so I relaxed into its cushions and bit into the sad excuse for food.
He didn’t even look away from the television as he pushed his laptop at me.
“Xander.” I shook my head and logged on. “How are you this involved in every rerun of
Fresh Prince
? You were four when this show came out.”
His comeback was to turn up the volume.
“Cece wants me to check Craigslist again today. As if a new job opportunity will just appear that I’m perfectly qualified for.” I scanned the listings once again. “Look at this. All of these new postings and nothing I’m interested in.” I scrolled halfway down and then pointed at the screen and angled it toward his face. “Although this looks interesting. A basement for rent. Or a
nanny
position.” I laughed at the audacity.
Xander raised his eyebrows and grinned. “You know what? That could be cool. You’d get paid to play with kids all day and go to the park. Hang out with lady nannies. Get some ass.” He grabbed the computer and read the listing. “But if you can rent the room
without
the rugrats? Forget the kids and call this lady
now
so you can get out of your sister’s apartment. Since it’s mandatory that you get a job and all because you spent every last dime you were given.”
I snatched the laptop back and gave him a dirty look. “You seem a little too invested in me getting my own place. It’s only been two weeks. She’s not sick of me
yet
. Also, it’s not mandatory. I don’t have to get one if I don’t want to. Although if I want the rest of that inheritance . . .” I stared at the listing again and sighed. “It would be worth looking into, I guess.” The idea of getting out of my sister’s apartment was tempting, and though the listings were on the same ad, they appeared to be separate. I could look for a job while living under a different roof. At least my sister wouldn’t be up in my business all the time.
“I’d love a job like that,” Xander said, his gaze drifting away from Will Smith’s baby face.
“Yeah, you’re fantastic with kids. Left alone with your two-month-old nephew for less than fifteen minutes before showing him a Victoria’s Secret catalogue and trying to teach him to say
silicone
? Pretty sure you’re not qualified.”
He shrugged, and I decided there was no harm in calling about the ad. I dialed the number from my cell and waited as it rang.
“Hello?” said a woman. She sounded stressed.
“Uh, yeah. Hi, I was calling about your Craigslist ad—”
“Can you be here in an hour?”
“Sure. What’s the address?” She rattled it off, and I wrote it down. “Great, I’ll see you then.”
“Fine,” she said and hung up.
“Oh, wait!” I shouted, but too late. “This listing doesn’t even show the woman’s name. It just says
G.S.
”
Xander grunted a laugh. “Well, let’s hope this ad isn’t
B.S
. You have to move out. And get a job.” He looked me over. “You need to put on something else. I doubt she’ll let you live there you if you show up looking like you’re homeless.”
I scratched my head and looked down at my jeans and T-shirt. “My clothes are clean. I just washed these jeans last week.”
“Whatever. Go shave your face. You’ll scare her looking like Wolverine.”
I ran my hands through my hair, deciding it was clean enough.
“Are you in your sister’s BMW?”
“Of course I am.”
He shook his head in exasperation. “Take my truck so you don’t look like a rich prick trying to get a cheap room.”
I parked Xander’s truck outside a giant, taupe-colored Cape Cod with a white staircase leading up to a large porch, and a huge addition on the side that I guessed was a bonus room. It was in a cul-de-sac with ample space between the neighbor’s houses and was probably priced at over half a million dollars. I looked at my torn piece of notebook paper and checked the address again.
“This can’t be right.” I gazed up at the house for what felt like the hundredth time. The numbers next to the door still matched, so I walked up the circular driveway and rang the doorbell, listening while the notes chimed through the house.