Chapter Three | Kylee

The Hires

It’s no New Sydney, but it’ll have to do for now. At least that’s what Dad told me.

“It’s gonna happen,” she reminds me as the bitter chill engulfs the parking lot. “You think you’re up to it if the time comes?”

“You think I’m not?”

“No, I don’t doubt your abilities. But I’m guessing you think you’re not.”

“Ugh, whatever.”

To my left, Birdie brings the small coffee cup to her lips and takes a sip of her peppermint tea, her crimson eyes fixed on the white Seytara Strider rolling into the parking lot. It’s a slightly older car than the rest; I heard she blew all her money getting here.

“Teresa Dolton,” she guesses. “That makes thirty.”

“I’m surprised she even showed up. Heard she was a real nutjob.”

“Hey, give her some credit. She passed every last one of our background checks. That’s a start, isn’t it?”

But as a rather chubby-looking woman with two odd socks, white clogs, black jeans and a teal graphic T-shirt clambers out of the driver’s side, I can see Birdie’s cogs turning. It’s so easy to prove her wrong.

I don’t even have to be the one to do it.

“C’mon, Ky...” Birdie murmurs as she nudges me in the side with her elbow. “Be nice. You know you’re on thin ice after that incident with the last assistant.”

“Yeah, but let’s be real here. Her outfit’s gonna jut out like a sore thumb. I’ll be shocked if she makes it past orientation day.”

The woman pushes the car door shut and waddles her way around to the other side. Sure, take your time, lady.

Not like we’ve got a job to do or anything.

She quickly throws her pleathery black crossbody bag over her shoulder (clearly an attempt to appear somewhat ethically conscious), and pulls a manilla folder out from under the passenger seat that’s practically overflowing with papers (still no regard for the environment). She can’t even cram it shut properly, and opts to keep it tucked away underneath her arm. One floats free of its constricting prison and promptly wedges its way beneath her tire, to which she lets out a sigh and crouches down on her wobbly knees to pick it up (she somehow cheated our physical?). She finally grabs the runner and gets back up, waddling over in our direction. About time.

Her eyes dart up briefly to meet mine before they trail straight back to the ground again.

“Hello,” she says with a smile. “Is this 36 Wegara Way?”

“Sure is!” Birdie begins. “You must be Teresa Dolton.”

“Yes, you can just call me Tessa. Teresa’s too formal.”

Of course it is. I bet everything’s too formal for this self-proclaimed homebody.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Tessa.” Birdie reaches out for her hand, to which she awkwardly shakes it. “My name’s Birdena Cavaliere, but you, my dear...” She lets go. “You can call me Birdie.”

“Birdie, that’s such a lovely name.”

“Thank you! And this here—” She pauses as she gestures to me, “is my colleague, Kylee.”

Colleague?

Colleague?!

I’m offended she thinks that little of me!

“Kylee...oh! Did you know that Kylee translates into boomerang where I’m from?”

She’s still not making eye contact when she speaks. Is there something seriously wrong with her? What the hiring department saw in her, I’ll never know...

“You’ll never guess what her name translates to,” I grin as I nudge Birdie back. Tessa hides a giggle underneath her free hand. Huh...she’s not as weird as I first thought. At least she seems to understand what a joke is.

“I wonder...”

“We’d better get inside,” Birdie decides. “Your orientation starts pretty soon, and well, considering you are new here, it’ll take some time to get you all set up on the system.”

“Set up on the system. Yeah, no worries!”

As Birdie ushers her in through the double doors, she shoots me a glare.

“Hey, you’re the expert, Bird,” I whisper in her ear. “You think she was a parrot in her past life?”

“Don’t you dare,” she jeers back.

I said it out loud for Birdie’s entertainment, but if I’m being completely honest, the girl reminds me of someone. Someone who used to try a little too hard at pretending they didn’t care at all.

Someone who went through life adopting all kinds of faces that weren’t their own.

- - -

Strolling past the turquoise lounges scattered throughout the foyer, I approach the wooden reception desk and peer over the counter. Unsigned forms, incomplete incident reports...ugh, you’d think she’d be a bit more organised.

“Where’d Elysse hide it?” I mutter under my breath.

Shuffling around a few magazines, I find the smooth plastic of Tessa’s new ID card and pinch it between my fingers. I glance back over towards Birdie, who’s leaning up against the wall.

“Has she clocked off yet?” I ask her. “Her desk looks like a hurricane hit it!”

“Why would she? She’s pulling that double, remember?”

“Oh, right...she on break?”

“Been four hours since she last went, right?”

“Thought so. But where’s April? Wasn’t she supposed to be in tonight?”

“Called in. She’s got the flu, apparently.”

To Birdie’s right, Tessa starts picking at her cuticles. Her eyes are darting around from place to place, almost like she’s looking to bolt at the first chance she gets.

As she should.

Our work’s not for everyone, let alone the faint-hearted. Just because the job was out there, didn’t mean she had to apply. If she can’t handle the job she signed up for, she shouldn’t have applied for it in the first place.

Birdie places a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey.” She offers her a smile. “Don’t fret. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Thank you,” she stammers back. “I...I guess this is still pretty new to me.”

“A lot different to your last job, yeah?”

“Very.” She stifles a laugh, although she doesn’t seem to be amused.

Nervous, more like.

“Don’t worry,” I promise her as I hold out her ID card. She takes it in her hands and runs her index finger along the edge. “I’m sure you’ll settle in just fine.” I glance over at the time on my left arm. 9:58 PM. “C’mon, let’s get you to your orientation.”

“Am...am I the only one?”

“Of course not! We’ve got quite a few hires tonight. But...you will need to pass your probation if you wanna stick around.”

Birdie raises an eyebrow.

“I...I hope I pass. I really need this job.”

“Hey. There’s always next year...that is, if you’re lucky.”

At my words, Tessa starts to squirm. But she’s stubborn.

She stays put.

Good.