CLOVE

thirty-four

☘︎ clover ☘︎

The past week had been a rollercoaster of emotions for me. After everything that happened with Brennan, I was feeling lost and confused. But then, Atlas had offered me a place to stay in his beachside apartment, and it had been a godsend. The apartment was small but cozy, and it had a beautiful view of the ocean. Right now, we were sitting in the living room, my laptop open in front of me as I scoured job listings.

Atlas was sitting next to me, scrolling through his phone, but I could tell he was keeping an eye on me. He had been so kind and generous to let me stay with him, and he had been checking in on me constantly to make sure I was doing okay. I appreciated his concern, but I sometimes wished he would give me some space to breathe.

I had always been fiercely independent, and the thought of relying on Atlas for everything was a little uncomfortable. But at the same time, I was grateful for his support. Without him, I would have been homeless and jobless, struggling to make ends meet.

As I clicked on yet another job listing, I felt a pang of anxiety in my chest. The thought of starting over in a new job, in a new town, was daunting. But I knew I had to do something. I couldn't stay here indefinitely, mooching off Atlas's generosity.

I groaned in frustration as I closed yet another job listing. "Ugh, everything needs some sort of college degree," I said out loud. "And if it doesn't, the pay sucks."

I leaned back on the couch, feeling discouraged. I had never gone to college, so most of the higher paying jobs were off-limits to me. And the ones that didn't require a degree usually had terrible pay and terrible conditions.

"This is hopeless," I said, closing my laptop with a thud. "I'm never going to find a decent job without some sort of degree."

Atlas looked up from his phone and gave me a sympathetic look. "Hey, don't give up just yet," he said, putting his phone down. "There are other ways to make a decent living without a college degree. Maybe we just need to get a little creative."

I rolled my eyes, feeling a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Get creative? How am I supposed to do that? Sell drugs on the street corner?"

Atlas shrugged, a hint of a smile on his face. "You could always work for me," he said casually, as if it were the most obvious solution in the world.

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Work for you? What, like as your personal assistant or something?"

Atlas chuckled. "Exactly like that," he said, still wearing that same smug expression. "I've been thinking about hiring an assistant for a while now, and you'd be perfect for the job. You're organized, efficient, and you're good with people. Plus, you already know all my quirks and preferences."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious? You want me to be your assistant? But I have no experience as an assistant. I mean, I'm good at a lot of things, but being a personal assistant is not one of them."

Atlas shrugged again, his expression unfazed. "You don't need experience to be my assistant. I can teach you everything you need to know on the job. And besides, I think you underestimate yourself. You have all the qualities I'm looking for in an assistant. Plus, it would give you a steady income and a chance to build up your savings."

I hesitated, gnawing on my thumbnail as I considered his offer. On one hand, it seemed like the perfect solution to my current predicament. On the other hand, the thought of working for Atlas made me feel slightly uncomfortable. He had always been a little intimidating, a little too confident for his own good. I wasn't sure if I could handle working with him on a daily basis. But then again, beggars couldn't be choosers, right?