“Sure, they all need help. But why are you interested in a place like that?” he questioned.
“Why not?” I shot back.
“I’ve checked out your school records,” he said.
“And what does that have to do with anything?” I countered.
“I think I might have a better opportunity for you,” he said with a smirk, causing me to raise an eyebrow in suspicion.
"And what’s that?" I asked, intrigued.
"Working for me," he answered.
"What?" I exclaimed, nearly spitting out the coffee I had just taken from my thermos.
"Working for me at the office in the packhouse. I need someone to help with paperwork and computer tasks, and I know you’re more than capable of handling it. So, what do you think?" he asked.
"Is that like a receptionist position?" I inquired.
"I suppose so. But it's better than waiting t
