The Fourth Roommate

The Job

It was dang easy to find a job. I walked into a cute café with old fashioned booths, and a nice bar where a single man was cleaning out glasses.

He had shaggy brown hair, deep warm brown eyes and stubble. He looked like a nice guy; I found myself liking him instantly. He smiled a little at me and I walked to the bar, wondering what I was doing.

"Hi," I said.

"Hello," said the man.

"Can I have a job... please?" I asked politely.

He laughed a little. You didn't just ask for a job, I thought angrily, you were offered one. What if Superman applied for being Superman? Exactly, that didn't just happen. Or say Catwoman... she didn't want to be Catwoman, no some creepy cat breathed on her and she turned into Catwoman. So all I needed is some waitress to breathe on me and then... wait, what?! No waitress was going to breathe on me, I thought, shaking my head.

"Well... how old are you?" he asked, looking at me suspicously.

"Eighteen. I need a job to help pay rent, you know?" I chuckled nervously, my hands going clammy with nerves, "I can't mooch off my roomies."

"And do you have expierence?" he asked me, "A CV?"

"Well... not really. But I'm a fast learner," I said with a forced smile.

"Okay, what's your name?" said the man.

"Serena Jones," I told him, biting my lip and trying to see his reaction, "And yours?"

"Tom Stone," he said, "And well, call me crazy, I think you're hired."

"Are you serious!?" I exclaimed happily, a grin spreading across my face.

Tom nodded vehemently , laughing as I resisted the urge to spring into a happy dance. Oh god, oh god, this was the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I was certainly owed some good karma after 'him' and 'her', butt his was just incredulous...

I noticed as he brushed back his in-need-of-a-cut brown hairm that he had a strip of pale skin exposed, as if he had lost his wedding ring... or maybe they had split up? I looked closer at him and noticed the shadows under his eyes, the chewed down nails. This guy, Tom, had split up with his wife. Like I had, sort of, with 'him'.

I looked round, and I noticed some... familliar looking people. I frowned, and looked at Tom, who was looking at me very closely. And then it finally clicked into place; these were movie-stars and rockstars, eating muffins and sipping coffee. I gaped at Tom and then got myself together; obviously this café was a hide-out. No need to act like some crazed fan... and oh my gosh, did Johnny Depp just walk out?!

"These are our customers, I hope you'll be able to handle them?" asked Tom politely, raising his eyebrows.

I considered, I didn't want myself to turn out disappointing him - was I really going to be able to handle all these supermodels, actors and popstars? Yes, I thought, I would. It might take some effort, and especially might take down my ego a few notches, surronded by beautiful people, but I would be able to handle it.

I raised my chin to look him square in the eye, "Yes I would."

"Well then," he smiled, rubbing his hands, "Lets get you trained."

Around five in the afternoon, I was done and my arms were aching terribly. This job did not get enough credit, I thought, lifting up three trays loaded with coffee and armed with steaming herbal tea was dangerous. I manged to spill five trays, break twenty cups and almost got myself a third degree burn.

"You're a hard worker," said Tom, grinning as I moped the floor free of coffee.

"'Tell my mom that," I said, rolling my eyes as I scrubbed.

He laughed easily, "Where does she live?"

"Vermont," I admitted.

"Wow, a real out-doorsy place," he said, "Why New York?"

"An old friend actually asked me to join him, so I came. Spur of the moment thing," I shrugged.

"'Him' huh?" Tom said, laughing cheerfully.

I turned red, "Not just him. Other roommates too. I'm the fourth!"

He held up his hands in surrender and left, his shoulders shaking with laughter. I pursed my lips, as much as I liked Tom, I hated this instant thought of just because I moved in with a guy, I was in love with him. Love was for suckers and Justin Bieber, I thought angrily, putting the brush and mop away.

"Your free to go, come round tomorrow, and I'll give you your work schedule and your uniform," said Tom as I shrugged on my coat.

"Thanks," I called over my shoulder as I left.

But Tom had his back to me, and was holding up a photo. I squinted and could just about see a tall willowy woman wearing a creamy white wedding dress, cutting something which resembled cake. I bit my lip as Tom set down the picture, face down and walked out of sight. Poor guy, I thought to myself, he needed some Ben and Jerry's therapy.

***

As I entered the flat (I had been given the spare key by the guys), I saw them all gathered around wearing somber expressions.

Oh gosh no. Something terrible had happened; a cat was stuck up a tree and couldn't get out... someone had died on my favorite TV series... William and Kate were getting a divorce... my head reeled with the traumatic possiblities.

"What?" I demanded, my heart thudding.

"We have come to the conclusion," said Zac darkly.

"That you," continued Ace.

"Need a makeover!" finished Cam.

And then a blind fold was thrown over my head...

Karma was finally catching up with me, I thought, of course I couldn't have gotten that job Without any consequences.