Unknown
Jobs by Karen Blayne
Oh by the way red tape first.
Be warned these short stories contain mature content or naughty bits and as such may corrupt you if you’re under 12, 16, 18, 21 or 25 depending where you live thus they are not suitable for you so put them back on the shelf and let them age for a year or two.
They were sort of scribbled for fun. They were first posted on asstr.org. If you’ve paid money for this book just be aware the author has not received any payment. In fact no one has permission to charge money for this book and copyright is retained by the author. ©2020
Ever notice how one thing leads to another? “Katie could you bring Ryan and Steve to their gun club?” I ignored the request. “It pays money.” “Well I could always read at at the gun club I suppose. “Coming.” “She’s on her way.” I dug my bike out of the garage and cycled over.
“Thank you so much. Here are the keys to the van since it looks like rain.” I was driving? Last time we’d all caught the bus. “Here’s fifty for you and fifty to feed them on the way home.” It was obviously the perfect day to go to the gun club.
I drove the brats there and then looked about for a quiet corner where I could read my book. “Do you think the type of ammunition makes any difference?” I looked at the guy. “I’m sure it does, I always look for the smoothest pebbles for my sling shot.” A white haired guy in the background grinned at my response. “Are you here to shoot?” He asked. “No I’m transport for the Rogers brothers and besides lying down and getting my dress dirty isn’t my style.” “Come and try pistol shooting. It’s either that or getting hit on. There aren’t many young ladies around.” I looked round and saw he spoke the truth.
So I tried pistol shooting. I mean I’d seen plenty of western movies with revolvers but nothing like the pistol I was handed. A very long barrel, single shot and you sort of put your hand into the grip. “What is it?” “A Morini free pistol.” I got taught the safety stuff first then I was allowed to shoot. It took a couple of shots before I hit the target which seemed a long way away to me. Then pistol was adjusted and soon I was grouping on the target which white hair thought was good. On the way home I thought about about how expensive and bad fast food was for growing boys. We stopped at Walmart and picked up some groceries. Would you believe these guys had never been to Walmart before? Then I took them home and had them make pasta in an instant pot.
The following week Mrs. Rogers gave me an extra fifty for giving her boys a cookery lesson the week before. She’d brought two of the latest Instant Pots and two mini Instant Pots as well. Could I teach them a different meal than pasta? For that kind of money I could even teach her dear darlings to cook with an Instant Pot.
At the range George had a different grip for the pistol which was smaller and suited my hand a bit better.
For the next eighteen months I quietly shot pistol whilst the brothers shot prone rifle. They expanded the meals they could cook and proudly announced one day they were going to cook their dad Sou Vide steak. It was only when they started talking about graduating from twenty five meters to fifty meters I realised that I’d been shooting fifty meters rather than twenty or twenty five. “I thought rifles were more accurate than pistols?” “Generally speaking they are.” “So how come the brothers are only just moving to fifty meters shooting prone rifle and I’ve been shooting fifty meters pistol?” He shrugged “The first time I was shooting on the fifty meter range so all the equipment was there and you hit the target so we just carried on at fifty meters. Being single shot it’s cheaper on the ammunition. I suppose we could try the shorter range stuff if you like.” “I should pay for my own ammunition shouldn’t I?” “I have a budget and if I’m coaching you to shoot I’m not shooting so don’t worry about it unless you start into rapid fire.”
The next week George took me into the shorter range and gave me a lecture on gun safety with semi-automatic pistols. Then he handed me a scorpion. Well that’s what he said it was made by Volquartsen. He had me load the magazine with five rounds and then I tried my hand. Very different to the free pistol but I hit the target anyway. Soon I was hitting the centre of the target which was kind of fun. Next to me were a group of guys in suits. Can you believe anyone would want to come to a range in suits? They seemed happy though with a single shot pistol.
I was roped in to shoot for a competition, the original person didn’t turn up so I got substituted. The club secretary wanted me to formally join the club and join a team but when he told me how much it cost I thought I’d rather shoot as a guest and you never knew when the boys were going to get tired of shooting and want to do something else. Somehow I got signed up anyway.
I’d just finished shooting a match card when the club secretary appeared with two suited guys in tow. “May I introduce Mr. Patterson and Mr. Cooper to you Katie?” I looked them over “Why?” The club secretary looked embarrassed. “George come and reassure her.” “Why don’t we go outside for a stroll and I’ll explain their presence away from stray ears.”
“We’d like to offer you a job.” “I’m planing to go to college and doing something in healthcare next year.” Mr. Cooper exchanged a look with Mr. Patterson. George interrupted “She’s good, one of the best I’ve taught.” “It’s with government and we can swing a university course in your training plan if your grades are good enough.” I looked at George for a translation “They’ll pay you a salary and your course fees and reasonable expenses as part of the deal.”
“Which bit of government?” “I’m not allowed to say.” I looked at George again. “Why don’t you just swear her in under the official secrets act, then you can tell her about the job?” I was swore in there and then.
“We’re in diplomatic protection and we have an assignment in August that we’d like to use you for.” “You want me to assinate someone?” Mr. Patterson laughed “No that’s the last thing we want. However the principle didn’t like the idea of a bodyguard.” “So we thought he wouldn’t take exception to a young lady assistant.” “We know you speak French which is helpful.” I looked at George. “Just tell her how much it pays guys.” They told me and I asked “When can I start?”
School was happy for me to skip the last few weeks of school. It got written up as work experience and I reported to their training college. “Do you mind if we put you in with a few men?” “If they’re cute I don’t mind too much.” The receptionist laughed. “They can be a bit sexist.” After brothers Grim, sorry Rogers I thought I could handle it. “You start on the range at seven am on Monday morning.” I looked at her as if she was out of her mind. “I know but the guys get it worse. Twenty kilometre runs at three am?” “Well for what they’re paying me I suppose I can set an alarm clock.” “Isn’t equal pay great?”
At seven am I reported to the range. The instructor went through the normal safety procedures for semi automatic pistols. “Ear defenders on. In your own time five rounds at the target in front of you.” The man sized target was enormous compared to what I was used to. The pistol was heavier than the .22 target ones I was used to so I rattled off all five shots in quick succession and put the gun down, breech open and magazine out as I’d been taught. Then stepped back from the bench. The sergeant frowned at me but said nothing. It was only when the targets came back that he looked at mine and made a derogatory remark about me missing the target with some shots. “She should have taken her time.” “Sorry sergeant but I quite sure I hit the target with all my shots.” “Prove it.” I looked at my group then sent a new target back down the range. Picked up the gun and adjusted the sights, took aim and fired. I put the gun down, retrieved the target dead centre. The next four shots were almost identical. One was just half an inch higher.
The sergeant looked on in amazement. “Have you any tips you’d like to pass on to the others?” I thought about some of the remarks I’d overheard about skirts. I couldn’t resist, and put on my innocent look. “Well wearing a skirt allows you more freedom to place your legs correctly.” “Right lads you’re going shopping. The squad will reassemble at 1400 hours wearing skirts.” “Sarge I think the young lady was joking.” The sergeant looked at me and I reluctantly nodded. “Shooting is serious and joking about the subject is strictly forbidden. Right the rest of you back to the bench and five more rounds. Ms Edwards you’ll come with me.” I followed him to a table on the side where he signed off on my certificate. “Right you’re done here. I don’t want you distracting my lads any longer.”
I wondered back to the receptionist. “The sergeant sent me away.” “Oh dear did you make a joke about shooting by chance?” “It was only a small one.” “Well I don’t know if we can get you range training from somewhere else and you need your certificate.” “This you mean?” I passed it to her. “It was supposed to take you six weeks to get this. I wonder what else we can find to fill in the time?” She had a look through her computer. “There’s a bomb disposal course if you’re interested.” I gave her a look. “Helicopter pilot training? No that’s two years and we haven’t got that long. I don’t suppose you fancy a special forces assault course crawling through mud for a month?” She didn’t even bother to look up and I stayed silent. “Here we are. We had a cancellation this morning on a six week BMW high speed course. A certificate can get you a reduction in your insurance premium and I could fill your time out with a first aid course.” Now that I fancied, a nice white BMW with comfy leather seats. “Sounds perfect.”
I walked across to the driving section and said hi to the receptionist. “Oh good a warm body. They’ve been putting this course together for months now. It was suppose to be for ten people but they’ve been cancelling because of budget cuts. Just pop your head in the office and tell Sergeant Collins your here for his high speed course.”
I popped my head round the door “ Sergeant Collins? I’m here for the BMW high speed driving course.” “Out the back door and you’ll see the BMW. Just go and stand by it. I’ll be out directly.” I stepped through the back door but couldn’t see any cars so waited for Sergeant Collins to appear. “Where’s the BMW?” I asked brightly. He pointed at a large motorcycle. “Really?” “Really. Now have you got your driver’s license?” I pulled it out. “You don’t seem to have motorcycle on it. Have you every ridden one before?” I admitted I hadn’t. “Oh well it doesn’t matter very much since we will be one on one and I can tailor what I teach you. We’ll spend the first few days getting you to know the basics and that should get you through the driving test. We’ll do the more advanced stuff later on.”
He took me round the bike “Now this bike is one of the nicest Police bikes available.” Fortunately my legs are long for a girl. He handed me a helmet and took me through the basics. Then he mounted his own bike and talked to me through the helmet radio system. Save me from enthusiasts please, still he did know his stuff and caught me from making a number of mistakes and the bike wasn’t so bad. I thought it might be awful in the rain but the fairing seemed to keep most of it off. On the third week we were joined by some regular police motorcyclists and they soon nicknamed me biker girl on the radio. They were fun to say the least. Still I got taught how to escort an ambulance through traffic lights. With two bikes you ride on ahead and block the traffic then leapfrog to the next traffic signals. With one you sort do the same.
Still finally my courses were done. I had certificates to put up on my wall. Not that I would I mean I’d rather keep the information private to myself thank you very much. Next came the VIP and the conference. My evening dress was gorgeous. It was just my colour. I had my dresser take photos of me for mum and for me as well as a keepsake. I wish I could have borrowed it for my prom. Fortunately having long legs I didn’t need to wear heels and with the long skirts I could wear my comfortable Doc Martens. I was fitted out with glasses. I don’t need them but these were special and had some sort of weird heads up display. I was fitted with a earphone all hidden under my long blonde hair. In case of a dire emergency one of the training groups BMWs would be parked behind the hotel but the hope was we wouldn’t need it. “We’d issue you with a car but you’ve only done the high speed course on a motorbike so that’s what we’ve made available to you.”
We were briefed beforehand. A group of extremists had issued a death threat but to complicate things occasionally other groups would carry out assignations on a one for on basis with another group. Sort you kill mine and I’ll kill yours.
“Now we’ve rounded up six suspected members of the terrorist group and they’re being held for forty eight hours so we’re hoping that this evening will go smoothly. The thing to watch out for is suicide bombers, they work in pairs, one carries the bomb belt and the other a smartphone that can set the bomb belt off. I hope we don’t see any tonight but if you do then the only safe way to deal with them is to take them both out with head shots.”
I met my principle. “Hi, I’m here to guide you to the correct place at the right time.” He replied in French so I switched to French as well. I asked him about himself and soon he was comfortable telling me stories from his childhood. It sounded ideal. We were served dinner at a long table. Most of the other VIPs had their personal bodyguards with open jackets and hearing aids stood behind them. “Bodyguards what use are they? If your time has come your time has come and I do not fear these death threats.” I smiled sweetly at him “Perhaps I should sit further away from you in case your time has come.” He laughed at that. After dinner we stood and started to move to the other room when my radio crackled. “The perimeter has been breached.” I looked round and quickly tripped up my VIP so he landed on the ground. I crouched down besides him “I’m so sorry about that.” As I scooped up my Glock from my purse. The doors to the ballroom were thrown open and there was a suicide bomber team. I fired across the room and hit them both with head shots my ears were ringing from the noise without their ear defenders. The room was in chaos as various bodyguards drew their weapons and someone threw a couple of smoke bombs into the room. My smart glasses guided me to the nearest exit, a service door and I had him down the corridor before he could say a word. Behind us I could hear automatic gun fire.
Outside there was my BMW for the evening. My get away car if you like. They’d lent me the two seater they used for training sometimes and after some protests we both got on. I roared off into the night. Well BMWs don’t roar you understand but it was a very loud purr. I noticed we seemed to have a tail and after checking with control decided it might be hostile. Well I wasn’t James Bond but I did know a short cut across the park. I swung the bike round a corner fast, then accelerated, another corner, and there it was the park entrance. “Hang on tight and knees in.” I braked sharply and slid past the two concrete posts designed to keep cars out with not very much to spare on either side. I looked down in the mirror to see a car ram itself against the concrete posts. I called control and asked them to send an ambulance and any suggestions as to what to do next. I wasn’t stopping to help whatever happened. “We think there are still actors in the area so we need to get you out of there. Exit the park and take the next turning on the left and you should see an ambulance. Escort it to the hospital. That way you won’t stand out.” As soon as I saw the ambulance I flipped on the forward facing flashing blue LEDs, the electronic siren and took up position.
Behind me my principle spoke into his mike. “You aren’t just a pretty face are you?” “I do my little best sir. Now if you’ll let me concentrate on the traffic I’ll try to get you out of here safely.” As we reached the hospital the decision by control was we should carry on to my principle’s next meeting. About three hours away by motorcycle, maybe two and a bit hours if I drove over the speed limit. A second police motorcycle drew up alongside. Mike from the course waved to me. “We suspect there will be bad actors on the highway and once they realise you’re travelling on a motorbike you’ll be easy to spot.” So we needed to hide. “Can you get hold of a dozen bikes to escort me? Just tell them it’s biker girl and it’s a legal dash over the speed limit with a real police escort.” By the time we hit the city limits we were a dozen strong, as we passed through the suburbs we picked up more machines then we opened them up. I kept the speed down to a hundred and sixty kilometres an hour so the Harley’s could keep up. My borrowed little baby could do a little over two hundred all day but I wasn’t sure if my guy on the back would appreciate it. Mike and I rode at the front with the flashing lights, Mike rode out way out in front and waved the cars over to the slower lanes as we flashed by. The bikers really enjoyed themselves jockeying back and forth and chattering on the CB radio and exchanging gossip. They soon figured out that there was a connection between the ride and the terrorist attack. I don’t think my guy knew quite what to think. I was just happy to be in the flock of bikes so we didn’t standout so much.
We pulled into the big hotel’s drive and you could see the doorman wasn’t used to having a flock of big motorbikes arrive but control had arranged two bodyguards that I knew by sight so I was happy. My principle climbed off the bike and before he could be hustled into the hotel he turned and spoke to the guys on their bikes. “Visiting your country has been an experience. Certainly my first time on a motorcycle. I’m not sure I’d like to live through it again and I wasn’t expecting to see so much local colour but thank you all for coming to my assistance.” I thanked the guys as well then we mounted up and rode back this time keeping to the speed limit. Well most of the time anyway. We stopped off at a highway restaurant for a break and I used my expense’s credit card to fill the guy’s tanks up with gas and fed them all a hamburger or two and milkshakes but no alcohol. They were all good guys, a number were ex-military and said it felt good to feel the comradeship again.
When I got back I was debriefed. My firearm was checked in and they held a postmortem about what had happened. The big thing was diplomatic incident had been averted. They didn’t even begin to query my credit card expenses so I knew it was big. The four terrorists who carried out the attack were from a different group so rounding up the others hadn’t done a lot of good other than giving them all an alibi for the time of the attack.
Which course did I mean to go on and no the most expensive top line universities were ruled out. The world was my oyster. Well I’d always thought about health care but now a doctor’s full medical degree? No too expensive and too long, but a nurse practitioner would work. I went and spoke to George for some advice. Did I really want to spend time wiping someone’s bum? Engineering courses were a bit more expensive and although nurse practitioner paid well he showed me the salary scales for working in government plus he mentioned that often you didn’t really know what a job was like until you tried it. “The job I ended up doing for most of my career hadn’t even been invented when I went through University.” So I sent in the paperwork for an engineering course and it was all approved provided I worked for them for a year after graduating.
I looked round the lecture theatre, not exactly equal numbers of women. Still to make up there were some really nice looking guys. At the end of the lecture one of the not so nice looking ones came up. “Girly, I’m Cameron Scott jnr. and I need someone to cook for me and keep the place tidy. It’s free accommodation.” “But wouldn’t a sleeve be so much simpler?” He looked at me blankly. “A sleeve?” “A male sex toy, you can get them from Amazon. They slide over your cock and you would at least know where it’s been. No messy relationship to worry about. I mean you never know what’s been inside me.” I looked up and exchanged glances with a large black coloured student. “No you can’t volunteer.” “You’d consider him?” The not so nice guy looked shaken. He turned away shattered that I hadn’t taken him up on his offer. I turned and caught sight of a grinning cute looking student. “No.” “But you haven’t even heard my offer?” I hooked my arm through his and carried him off to the coffee bar and brought Kyle a coffee. “Now you get free accommodation and access to all my books which is the full book list. I’ll even throw in a few groceries.” His nose twitched I kid you not. “A bed to myself?” “That depends.” “Do I need to cook and clean?” “Well the choice is either you share my bed and we find a social science student to cook and clean or you get the second bedroom to yourself and you do the cleaning and I’m fussy about the dusting.” “Where do we find a social science student?”
I looked across to another table. “Off you go.” “Me?” “I’m sure you’re a big boy and not afraid of a few social science students.” I sat back to watch the fun. The table had six girls grouped together. Five looked outraged when he spoke, the sixth who had been rather quiet before just shrugged and agreed. “But Phoebe when he says cook and clean in return for free accommodation you know he really means warm his bed. I mean how could you?” Phoebe pulled Kyle down by his tie and kissed him on his cheek which made him turn bright red. “Oh I’m quite sure we’ll reach a satisfactory understanding.” Kyle brought her back to our table.
“So?” “Do I need to confess all?” “I think so.” So I explained about being hit on and giving Kyle a choice between warming my bed or doing the cleaning and if he was warming my bed he had to find someone for the second bedroom who didn’t mind the cleaning. “So point out the guy who hit on you.” I pointed him out. “Right.”
I heard the gossip later. Somehow Phoebe had induced Cameron Scott jnr. to make her the same offer as he had made me but turned him down with the words “So sorry guy but Kyle’s already asked me to move in and do his cleaning and I’m moving in tonight.” In front of his friends. To be turned down by one was acceptable, turned down by two and all sorts of rumours were soon floating around.
Phoebe fitted into the apartment quite easily. I looked through Phoebe’s English literature course book list. There were some interesting books there that I fancied reading so I brought them so I could read them first. “It’s not fair.” She exclaimed “You get to read them for enjoyment whilst I have to dissect them and they’re not so much fun to read once you do that.” Kyle got to read them as well and he and Phoebe would have deep discussions about why a certain passage was written the way it was. Phoebe confessed later that she used some of the arguments that Kyle and I put forth in her essays and got marks for having an original point of view.
Having money made all the difference to studying. Even Phoebe agreed that a robotic vacuum cleaner was useful. Well until Kyle expressed the idea she might be redundant which led to a three way pillow fight and Phoebe declaring Kyle could try his hand at washing the dishes. At that he decided she was an essential worker after all.
Once Kyle got the idea my pleasure was important and I was paying the bills life got much better. It took time to teach him all my sensitive bits. Phoebe seemed surprised I could be so explicit in my instructions to him. “How else is he going to learn to give pleasure to a girl if no one explains to him exactly what to do.” “It seems so cold bloodied somehow, but I must confess one of my favourite fantasises is having a boy completely under my control and doing exactly what I say.” “I could lend you Kyle if you like?” She shuddered “I couldn’t do it. I’d be far too embarrassed. No it will have to remain a fantasy for the moment but it’s a really hot fantasy.”
At the weekends the apartment sort of became an unofficial hangout where social scientists and engineers could meet. Especially as we supplied a roast Sunday lunch. Sarah was the social scientist queen but her other friends were nice and it was nice to have a few girls to gossip with.
Four years later we finally graduated. Kyle got a job locally, Phoebe decided to stay on to do a masters so Kyle took over the lease of the apartment and Phoebe stayed on. The civil service found me a desk in a different city and as George had said there really didn’t seem to be a University course that was tailored to exactly what I did. With my increments I could afford a slightly nicer apartment but the downside was I had to do my own cleaning and Kyle got replaced with toy. His hugs had been much nicer though.
I looked at the embossed wedding invitation. Sarah was getting married. I called Phoebe and had a chat. “I suspect she’s going all out for the society wedding of the year. I think she wants to feel superior and show us up as losers since we aren’t engaged or anything. That’s why it says and guest on the invitation.” So not go and get labelled or go and find someone to go with me.
I mentally flipped through the possibles. No one I could really think of, unless just maybe my fellow bus passenger. We’d never spoken but he had the habit of taking the seat next to mine. Well I’d lifted my bag onto my lap the first time I’d seen him and since then he just slid into the seat besides me. I should have said something to him in the first few days but now after two months it was at the awkward point if you know what I mean. I screwed up my courage and touched him on his arm. “Getting off early?” I frowned at him. “No I have a favour to ask.” He looked at me suspiciously. “I have an acquaintance who is getting married and has invited me to her wedding.” “I accept.” I blinked “You want to save money and have a double wedding so you’re proposing to me and I’ve accepted.” He looked so please with himself for working it all out. I glowered at him then explained about Sarah’s big formal wedding and how I needed a date to avoid the pitying looks. “When is it?” “Three weeks time.” It’s a two hour drive so I’ll need to rent a car to get us there.” “No need unless you object to motorcycles.” “I have a helmet and I can always fold a dress up to fit in the panniers. It does have panniers I assume.” “It does. Do we need to meet up first to discuss where we met or anything?” “I’m sure we can bluff our way through.” I gave him my name phone number, address, the date and he said he’d pick me up around eight am on the day.
At ten to eight I glanced down to the parking lot and there was my knight in armour on his steed. I picked up my garment bag and helmet and walked down to meet him. I’d wondered which bike he had but was pleased to see it was a BMW, respectable and a very smooth ride. As we rode I had a thought and called Mike. Could I borrow his personal machine? “No problem.” I directed Liam to Mike’s home and hopped off. “I haven’t had it long so don’t scratch it.” “I’ll do my best.” Liam looked surprised when I mounted the new BMW. “You have a license?” Mike laughed “She has a license but has never owned a bike. Ask her the story behind that sometime.”
We rode up together and pulled into the parking lot. The two BMWs together drew a lot of attention. I drew even more when I took my helmet off and shook my blonde hair out. The questions about the bike started and I had to cut them off saying “We’ll talk later bit first I need to change.”
As we walked through the foyer looking for somewhere to change I heard a cry “Ma chérie.” and there was my Frenchman. “Monsieur Fenton aussi. My staff have recommended your proposal by the way. Now Katie I insist that you come and meet my wife immediately.” He turned and waved and we were joined by an impeccably dressed lady of a certain age. “This my dear is Katie who saved my life.” “But you look so young, five years ago you must have been barely old enough to be a bodyguard.” “I wasn’t, your husband refused a conventional bodyguard so they thought I would be less threatening.” “He can be stubborn sometimes but I thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving his life.” “I merely guided him to safety.” “After shooting two suicide bombers I understand then carrying him off on a motorcycle and losing a tail rather spectacularly.” My Frenchman turned to Liam “I will never forget that ride through the park. Knees in and hang on she said then we passed through two posts on the path and the car behind ploughed into them. Then the high speed journey down the highway surrounded by large motorcycles. Mon Dieu a night to remember.” “And the best part is he now has agreed to a bodyguard.” I glanced round and spotted a girl carrying the sort of handbag that could and probably did contain anything, scanning the crowd. “Marie-Laure is more discreet than one of the muscular types.”
One of the more muscular body guard types stepped up and put his hand out to me, “Of course biker girl. I remember you from the hamburgers and milk shake we had on the way back.” “I really must get changed, perhaps we can talk later.” Just then Sarah arrived looking immaculate as ever. “Hi Katie, will you introduce me to your friend?” Something in me must have snapped “Sarah meet my fiance Liam.” Well he had said he accepted on the bus even though it was a misunderstanding. I thought she was about to faint, “How long have you known each other? You aren’t wearing a ring.” Liam pulled a ring box out of his pocket “We’ve known each other for some months. I meant to give it to you before but it should fit now. Katie has a different finger size to my grandmother and now I think we would like to get changed out of our motorcycle outfits.” He explained and guided us past an open mouthed Sarah. Well yes we had known each other for months but not really if you know what I mean. I wasn’t quite sure what was happening either but soon we were in a bedroom and getting changed from motorcycle gear to formal dress. “Liam you know nothing about me.” “Not quite true. I asked my secretary to arrange a background check on you and the next morning two large gentlemen with government identification arrived and wanted to know why I was interested in you. Apparently they get very interested in anyone who starts enquiring about a government employee with a certain level of security clearance.” “Secretary?” “I own my own company.” “But you catch the bus each day?” “That’s my personal thinking time.” Whatever “Let’s go down and meet the crowd.”
I spotted Phoebe who was grinning at me. Next to her was Kyle “I hope you don’t mind but I hooked up with Kyle. I mean it seemed such a waste not to put his training to good use.” “You mean use it or lose it?” Kyle turned bright pink. He always did blush nicely. “You have my blessing.” “Now I want all the details and I mean all the details on how you managed to be engaged to the exclusive bachelor that Sarah and her friends have been after for two years now.” “You mean he has money?” Mind you I should have guessed from the very expensive BMW he was riding. I turned to look at Liam “You didn’t tell me you were monied?” he shrugged “You won’t hold it against me will you? and in my defence you didn’t ask.” “Oh priceless, then the guest of honour greets you as a long lost friend and now I find out you’re the legendary biker girl. How come you didn’t mention any of this before?” “I didn’t think it was important.” She turned to Liam “I live with her for four years and not once did she mention this.” Liam grinned “I love the discretion.”
“Will you be serious?” He looked contrite. “I think we can make a go of it. Do you know how difficult it is to meet a girl without knowing if it’s me or my money they’re interested in?” I kissed him and it all felt comfortable once more. “Are you expecting me to give up my job?” “Entirely up to you.” Something to think about as I took his arm and we entered the crowd once more doing the social thing.
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Jobs - Karen Blayne