Rogue Love (5 page)

My hands were shaking as I clicked the email and glanced over the short paragraph:

Congratulations Ms. Martin! Your application has been selected and I would like to personally offer you the position as my temporary personal assistant. Your start date will be one week from today. The job includes room and board, as well as compensation commensurate with your work and results. You will be receiving a bus ticket in the mail shortly.

Sincerely,

Blake Harrison

I sat back in the rickety wooden chair and closed my eyes, letting the information sink in. I still couldn’t believe it. Just hours ago, I had no plans to leave Mercy Rivers. Now I had a job and a place to live and a date. A week! I was leaving in
a week. I felt tingles down my spine as the realization set in that my freedom, terrifying and exhilarating, was only a week ahead.

By the time I got back to my house, the air was cooling as the calm of evening fell over Mercy River. Daniel was already gone and my parents were no longer interested in talking to me. I breathed a sigh of relief as I pushed open the screen door leading from the porch to the kitchen and my mother didn’t turn from where she was kneading dough. I knew I would need to tell my parents about my job, but I wanted some time to keep it as my own delicious little secret.

I lay in bed that night with images of my future life swirling through my head. I imagined a kind old gentleman as my boss. Blake Harrison would be smart and successful and would teach me how to be a leader, an entrepreneur, a businesswoman. I would shadow him and assist him and work my way up in his company. I fell asleep dreaming of Dior business suits and heels far higher than my mother would ever allow.

The rest of the week was a whirlwind. I finally told my parents about my plans over breakfast that first morning and they had remained stone-faced and silent. Daniel never even came around to say goodbye, but I was pretty sure my father had filled him in on all the details. I felt a small pang in my heart when I thought of leaving Daniel, but the exhilaration of leaving Mercy River and finally seeing more of the world washed away the heartache.

My bus ticket came in the mail a few days later, just like Mr. Harrison had promised. I opened the envelope giddily in my room and pressed the ticket to my racing heart, trying my best not to squeal in delight. It was finally real. My escape had arrived. I looked at the destination on the ticket and my eyes grew wide. Connecticut. I had never been that far East, or that close New York City before. I imagined myself on a business trip to the city, walking hurriedly down the packed sidewalks and taking elevators to the top floor of towering skyscrapers. New York was the place for serious people with big dreams and I was taking my first huge step in that direction.

The day finally arrived on a foggy morning. I expected to be more excited than ever, but when I woke up I discovered that a calm had fallen over me. I was ready to leave. I quickly changed into jeans and a lacey white tank top, but threw on a lavender cardigan at the last minute to guard against the chilly early morning air. My parents were still asleep, so I slipped out of the house as silently as I could with my purse and my one rolling suitcase.

I walked down the road, listening to the silence of the early morning. Mercy River was a boring town, but the magic of an early summer morning gave it a certain beauty. I enjoyed the sounds of birds and crickets as I pulled my suitcase after me on the one-lane road. I arrived at the bus station half an hour before my bus was set to leave and found a seat on the slightly cracked bench outside to wait.

The bus finally pulled up as I was starting to grow sleepy, my eyelids drooping against my will. The loud creak of brakes yanked me awake and I quickly grabbed my bags and boarded the dusty bus. There were only a few other passengers, and most of them looked angry or were sleeping against the windows, so I found myself a seat near the back and curled up with my bags as well. I slept through the first few hours of the trip, falling in and out of strange dreams, where I floated on a river watching the current pull me further and further from my friends and family on the shore. I woke up to the staccato sound of quiet rain pattering against the window.

The rest of the ride, I alternated between reading the book I had brought with me—Oscar Wilde’s
The Picture of Dorian Gray
—and staring out the window at the towns and cities as we passed. Mostly, I liked to watch how quiet the world looked as the rain gently bathed the highways. The time passed much more quickly than I imagined and before I knew it, we were pulling up to the dingy Connecticut bus station. It looked similar to the one in Mercy River, but much bigger and teeming with people.

I quickly gather my belongings and made my way to the exit, trying my best to elbow any other passengers. Most of the other passengers did not have the same concern, so I was one of the last people to exit and step into the large parking lot.

A kindly looking older gentleman in a suit caught my eye. He was holding up a sign, so I took a few steps forward to get a better look.

Grace Martin
, the sign said. I sighed in relief that I wouldn’t have to wander through the parking lot until I found my ride.

“Hello, that’s me,” I said, pointing to the sign and then extending my hand to him.

“Nice to meet you Grace,” the man replied with a warm smile that reached all the way to the crinkles by his eyes. “Let me help you with those bags.”

He quickly hoisted up my bag in a feat of strength that surprised me given how slender he was, and walked me to a shiny black limo. He opened the door for me, and then went to put my bags in the trunk.

“This fancy car is just for picking me up?” I asked incredulously as the driver climbed into the front seat and started the engine.

“My dear, I think you’ll learn that Blake Harrison expects nothing but the best, at all times, and in all areas.”

I mused the driver’s words over in my head as we pulled out of the parking lot and headed to my new home for however long I worked there. Surely, Blake Harrison was a generous man, as evidenced by his treatment of me so far. But would I live up to his exacting standards and expectations? I felt a nervous, excited tug in my chest as I thought about meeting my new employer. Whatever happened next, I was now sure that it was going to be a grand adventure.

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Acknowledgments:

I would like to thank my fellow writers for their suggestions and guidance along the way. You guys are the best group of authors I’ve ever met. Thank you!

To my family: Thanks for putting up with me when I was lost in my own world.

And most importantly: Thank you to all the readers who make being an author such a joy. I appreciate your feedback and
that each and every one of you has taken the time to read my work. It still blows my mind! I couldn’t do it without you.