Janet wrapped a towel around herself and walked out of the bathroom. A nice hot shower was always a good start to the day she thought as she picked her phone up from the nightstand and sat on the edge of her bed.
There was a text from her older brother Tyler.
"Free for lunch?"
"Sure."
"I'll pick you up at 12. Any luck."
"No"
"Sorry, but I might have something for you, tell you about it at lunch."
"OK, see you then."
She set the phone down and proceeded to get dressed. Putting on a pair of black shorts and a white tank top, then headed to the kitchen for breakfast. She pulled out her laptop, scrolling through various job boards as she ate her yogurt and English muffin.
Things had been going so well she thought. She had landed a job at an exciting start up fresh out of school. Even as the junior person on the small marketing team she had been making decisions and pitching ideas, a level of responsibility she would have had to wait years for at an established firm.
Then it all came crashing down. She still wasn't sure what had happened. Chicanery with the financing somehow, it damn sure didn't have anything to do with her or the marketing department. Yet here she was out of work for the last three months, and it seemed everyone who had worked with the firm was blackballed until the dust settled. No one seemed to want to take a chance on hiring someone who might be implicated in something. As if the 25-year-old Assistant Marketing Director could have somehow been the cause of it all.
She found a new listing, one she felt she was qualified for and set to work tweaking her resume, then researching the company a little more so she could write an appropriate cover letter. She was just getting ready to send it when her phone chimed.
"Be there in 10" the text from her brother read.
Deciding it was best not to rush she saved everything and closed the laptop. She put on a pair of sandals, checked her hair, grabbed her purse and headed out of her apartment. She was just at the bottom of steps when the black BMW 750 rolled to a stop in front of her. The window slid down and her brother smiled out at her.
"Hey stranger!"
She shook her head and laughed, "I still can't get over you and that car."
"Don't judge me," he said with light hearted defensiveness, "it's a company car, they make me drive it!"
"Yeah, sure they really twist your arm, don't they?"
She got into the car and as soon as she was buckled up, he was turning the car around and heading back out of the parking lot.
"Our clients have certain expectations; you have to look the part."
"You don't have to explain that to the marketing major Mr. MBA".
He laughed, "I know, but you always bring it up."
"I just never pictured you driving something like this. Still adjusting to my brother being the wolf of Wall Street."
"Hardly, so little of what I do has anything to do with finance, I'd have probably been better off with a marketing degree. Anyway, Chipotle, OK?"
"Wow, cheaping out on me?"
"Of course not, but I'm kind of in a hurry today. I've got a client meeting at one, but I really wanted to talk to you."
"What about?"
"A job, but let's wait until we can sit down and talk, OK?"
"Fine with me."
The Chipotle was just down the street and they were soon sitting in a booth with their burritos.
"So, job?" she asked waiting for Tyler to finish chewing.
"Look, this is going to sound a little weird at first, but stay with me, ok?"
"I'm not jumping out of a cake!"
He laughed, "Of course not, as short as you are I doubt you could!"
She threw a napkin at him, "5ft 2in is NOT that short."
"No," he reflected, "it isn't, for a Hobbit."
"But seriously," he resumed, "please hear me out, okay?"
"Of course."
"I was talking to one of my clients the other day, I obviously can't say who," he began.
Janet nodded, Tyler worked for a large financial firm in their private wealth group, managing clients' investments. The people he dealt with were very high net worth and the only thing they guarded more jealously than their money was their privacy.
"This gentleman always asks about the family, he's one of those old school types, he knows all his staff's spouses and children, makes sure the kids get gifts for their graduation, that sort of thing. Anyway, I had told him what happened with you, and he asked me if you were still looking for work. I said you were, and he asked if you would be interested in something a bit unusual with a carrot at the end."
"A carrot?" she asked, "and what pray tell do I have to do to earn a carrot?"
"He's looking for a security guard."
"Someone wants to hire a 5ft 2in 93lbs girl as a security guard? That's totally logical."
"Well, someone once told me 5ft 2in isn't that short..."
"For a Hobbit" she shot back.
"Like I said, hear me out, security guard probably isn't quite the right term, more night watchman, or possibly camera watcher?"
"Camera watcher?"
"Apparently the whole place has CCTV, he needs someone on the night shift to watch the cameras and occasionally take a stroll around the perimeter."
"Aren't there companies that do that? I hear their ads on the radio all the time."
"Yeah, but he has certain...standards and expectations that he isn't confident they could meet. He's intensely private, he doesn't want some rotating staff of people making minimum wage on the property, and that's what he'd get from one of those companies."
"And the carrot?"
"Well, it's a temporary job. The lady who usually does it is taking maternity leave, so they need someone to fill in until she gets back. Then he will find you a marketing job here in town that is at least as good as the position you had. Most likely with one of his companies, but he said if they don't have something he will make phone calls."
"Phone calls?" she asked.
"This guy is connected, there are probably a dozen companies in town that would hire you to do nothing just so they'd have a favor to call in. But don't worry, he knows you want a real job, a real opportunity."
"Pay?"
"$1200 a week, and you only work 70 hours every two weeks."
"How does that work?"
"You will work Sunday-Wednesday the first week, then the second week, Sunday to Tuesday. You alternate Wednesday with the other guard. 10-hour shifts, 8 at night until 6 the next morning. What do you think?"
"There is really a good job at the end of this?"
"Yeah, I've been working with him for almost 6 years now. He does what he says. The interactions I've had with his staff, well, they all seem to love him. I deal with a mixed bag, but he's one of my favorites. Good guy all the way around."
"When do I have to decide?"
"Well, he's actually who I'm meeting with at 1, I was hoping I could tell him one way or another, and it's TOTALLY cool if you say no."
She thought for a minute...what the hell, "I'll do it."
"Awesome, I really hope this works out."
"Me too."
He glanced at his watch, "but now, I have to get you home so I can get across town for my meeting and deliver the good news".
Back at her apartment Janet proofread the cover letter one last time and sent it off. No sense putting all her eggs in one basket after all. She was laying on the couch reading when her phone dinged at her to announce a text.
"Can you start this Sunday night?"
"Sure."
"When are you free to do all the paperwork?"
"Tomorrow afternoon, ok?"
"1pm?"
"ok"
"814 Webb Lane, it's in Bushwood Estates, the guard will be expecting you, Ty will meet you there, he's the security manager. Business casual. Let me know how it goes!"
She responded with a thumbs up, put the phone down, and returned to her book.
The next day she spent the morning at the gym, had a quick lunch then prepared for her first day back to work in months. She copied the address over into Google Maps and let it chart her course.
Bushwood Estates was the epitome of old money. All the houses were on at least 5 acres, some quite a bit more, and they were massive and beautiful. Even the guard shack at the gate could be on the cover of an architecture magazine she thought as she pulled to a stop in front of it.
"May I help you?" A very serious looking man in an immaculate uniform asked as she rolled the window down.