car.
Once I’m parked in the lot I just sit in the vehicle for several moments and enjoy the new car smell that’s still lingering inside.
I really need to do whatever it takes to hold onto this job , I tell myself. I vow to work extra hard so Jackson sees my value and doesn’t add me to the apparently long list of assistants he’s canned.
As I hop out of the car I mentally go through the list of items I want to get while I’m here.
I’m one of those people who love office supplies. When I was a kid I used to look forward to back-to-school shopping when I’d get to pick out new notebooks, pens and folders. It felt exciting and hopeful. What could be better than starting a new year with a fresh notebook and brand new writing instruments? It always felt like starting over with a clean slate.
That’s sort of what this new job feels like as well. It’s a chance to start over and rebuild my life. And I can do it with all new office supplies.
I pick out several large filing cabinets and a few shorter ones that match. I also select a printer because I didn’t see one in the office. I thought it would be nice to send actual postal replies to Jackson’s fans who took the time to write him letters.
I get everything else that I think I might need: paper, envelopes, notepads, stapler and staples, and a selection of moderately expensive pens, just because I can. I even add a corkboard and pins that I can hang over the desk.
I’m a little nervous when I hand the clerk Jackson’s credit card. I’ve never used a credit card that wasn’t mine before. She doesn’t seem fazed at all.
“Delivery is extra,” she mutters.
“That’s fine,” I tell her.
“Tomorrow morning between ten and twelve,” she says.
“That’s great.” It’s getting late in the afternoon anyway. I’ll probably have just enough time to make room for the file cabinets when they are delivered.
The bill comes to almost 800 dollars. That’s more than I expected to spend. I hope Jackson is okay with it.
He and I never discussed how much he would be paying me. I know it’s something I probably should have asked, but I guess I was afraid. It’s not like I wasn’t going to take the job anyway, no matter what the wage was.
And I no longer have to pay for rent or utilities, or even food apparently, so my expenses will be minimal.
I guess I’ll find out when I get my first pay check.
I ask for most of the items to be delivered, and take a few pads of paper and pens home with me in a shopping bag.
As I pull out of the parking lot I know I should probably speed up a bit, but I can’t bring myself to really push down on the accelerator.
It’s possible I may be a little bit of a speed freak when I drive. After getting a very expensive speeding ticket that I had to borrow money from my mom to pay I’ve toned the speeding down a lot, but the urge is still there.
Of course I may be at the opposite extreme with Jackson’s car. A few drivers behind me are honking.
The last thing I want is to get pulled over in his car.
But that may be exactly what is happening! There are police lights flashing behind me.
My heart starts to race as I pull over to the side of the road and the police cruiser pulls up behind me.
Two officers approach the car. It takes me a moment to realize it’s Officers Navarro and Jackson again.
Are they the only two cops who work in Laguna Beach?
“License, registration and proof of insurance,” Officer Navarro recites as I roll down the window.
I’m so nervous my motor coordination seems to be completely failing me. My limbs aren’t working properly enough to actually remove my wallet from my purse and the registration and insurance cards from the glovebox.
“You’re the girl with the cat,” Officer Jackson observes.
His comment is met with a cold stare from Officer Navarro. “Did you just call her a girl ?”
No nods.
“ Woman is preferred, or you could just refer to her as the person with the cat .
Learning to Kill: Stories