I stared at the black business card in my hand.

I’d been looking at it for minutes now but was still no closer to dialling the number listed. Jazz was, and had been from the start, my best shot. He already knew I had a criminal conviction, yet he’d offered me a job to work for him anyway. He’d also said he’d give me business tips, but I hadn’t even started to formulate the plans for my so-called business since he showed up that day and shook me up inside. Since then, I hadn’t exactly been in a productive mood. It would become very clear very quickly that I didn’t have a plan, and that would be more embarrassing than just surrendering defeat and working for him.

For now.

It would be temporary. I promised myself that. My goal would always be to work for myself in the end.

Shutting my eyes and rubbing a rough hand down my face, I unlocked my phone and forced my thumb to tap the numbers without thinking too hard about it. I hesitated over the green call button, but then made myself press that too. My heart kicked as I waited for Jazz to pick up. It was beating so loudly that I almost didn’t hear the quiet click as my call was answered.

“Hello?” a deep voice cut me out of my thoughts.

“Hi,” I replied, my voice equally as low.

There was a pause, and I could imagine Jazz trying to work out who I was. I was about to say, when he guessed correctly.

“Phoenix?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey,” his tone shifted a little. It became a bit brighter, as if I were a friend of his. “How are things?”

“Fine,” I answered automatically.

I probably should have asked him how he was too, but instead the silence stretched.

“Any luck with your business?” Jazz filled in the gap after a pause.

I clenched my jaw and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“No,” I replied, a moment later. “I was calling you about that. I haven’t got a business plan.”

They were extremely hard words to speak. Admitting such weakness was foreign to me, but I knew this was probably my only option. Or at least, the only option available to me right now. I couldn’t afford to wait around for several more weeks before something else came along.

“So, do you want my advice in starting one up?” Jazz asked slowly, probably unsure of what I was asking for.

I took a quick breath and got on with it, “You said you had an option for me to work in your business, that’s what I’m interested in.”

“Oh,” he sounded surprised. “Well, in that case, yeah the offer still stands.”

It was my turn to be surprised. A job offer without even an application or an interview? Did he think he knew me? I couldn’t come up with a reason for why he would trust me so much.

“What exactly would the job be?” I asked him.

Jazz chuckled lightly, making me frown. What was funny here?

“I can make a role for you,” he said to me. “So, you tell me what you’re good at, and what you’d want to do. It’s a fashion brand, I own a clothing store in the town centre.”

My frown deepened. Make a space just for me? If I were still involved in the gang business, I would have smelled a trap here. But I wasn’t. My ties with crime were cut, so Jazz couldn’t gain anything from me in that sense. And it may have sounded strange, but a small part of me trusted him as much as he was letting on that he trusted me.

“I’m good at leading,” I said simply. “Obviously, you’re not going to give me a managerial role straight away, but those are my strengths.”

“Okay,” he said. “And what are your experiences in leadership?”

I narrowed my eyes.

“Cut the crap, Jazz,” I hissed. “You know what I do – what I did – so you can guess that I have no legitimate experience that I can tell you about. You’re the one who offered this to me, so do I have it, or do I not?”

There was silence on the line as I waited for a response. My shoulders were tight and my brows remained creased.

“You’ve got it Phoenix, I just want to get an idea of what job I can give you,” Jazz eventually answered. “But I’ll tell you what, just come to the store today and we can do this in person.”

I blinked, not expecting that.

“Okay,” I answered lowly.

“I’ll text the address to the number you’re calling me from,” he said.

“Okay.”

“We close at six, so make sure you’re here before that,” Jazz told me.

I hardened my jaw at the instruction, but for once I had to swallow my pride and just accept it.

“Fine,” I replied. “Bye.”

“See you then.”

I ended the call and stared at my phone blankly. I wasn’t sure what to make of that conversation. Did I really have a job? Just like that? What would I be doing? And more importantly, how much would I be paid? I doubted Jazz’s business was big enough to pay me a salary that would be able to support this entire household. Landon would chip in. Hopefully he’d landed the job at the café. But even that would be small. Walter would get his inheritance money soon, and he and Coral would move out. Not only would Walter be able to manage financially on his own, but it would take the pressure off me too. If things went well, we could manage this. I had to manage this.