His Reverie (Reverie #1)(4)
I’m working at the Hales’ summer home. Yeah, the guy is so rich he has multiple houses. And this house I’m working at is freaking amazing, there’s no other word for it. First day on the job and I’m being trained by Michael, a cool dude that’s worked for the Hales the last three summers. He’s a little older than me, I’d figure around twenty or twenty-one, and a college student home for the summer.
According to Michael, we’ll be cleaning up around the estate, doing mostly yard work, various odd jobs and setting up for the multiple parties and social events the family hosts throughout the summer.
And from what Michael’s told me, they party a lot.
Weird.
“It’s all about the social connections for the Hales,” Michael explains as we’re walking out toward the very edge of the property. He’s showing me everything he can today before we have to go back to the pool area and clean it up for the dinner event they’re having tonight. You know, just forty of their closest friends are coming over.
I don’t even have four friends, but whatever.
“Social connections?” I ask because I pretend I care.
“Sure. The more people he knows and makes direct connections with, the more money he can get out of their pockets.” Michael rolls his eyes. I like this guy. He’s tall with bright red hair and bright blue eyes, his face covered with freckles. “They have these sort of get-togethers here all the time.”
We’re out walking along the fence line, a thick grove of pine trees on the other side and I can smell the salt of the ocean in the air mingle with the forest scent. The house isn’t that far from the Pacific but it’s not what I would call beachfront. Still a badass house though. “This place is awesome. I can see why they’d want to show it off.”
“Yeah well, I think it’s kinda stupid if you ask me. Why use this place to brag about how much money they’re making? Won’t their donators wonder if it’s their money financing the parties and the out-of-control house?” Valid point. One I didn’t consider, but I’m too dazzled by the wealth I’m seeing. “Okay, see that?” Michael points toward a building not too far from where we stand. He’s already moving on to the next subject. I notice he does that a lot. “Over there are the horse stalls. We’ll need to clean ‘em up, not too often though, thank God.”
Gross. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“Wish I was, bro. They have stable staff but not full time. And the kids love riding horses, especially Hale’s daughter.”
Huh. Didn’t know Hale had kids, not that I know anything about this guy beyond what I’ve learned since they hired me. Probably spoiled, demanding brats who get whatever they want whenever they want it.
Lucky little bastards.
Michael takes me on a quick tour around the stables, which has four horses bordered inside.
He showed me what needs to be done and where the cleaning supplies were. Then the smug jerk left me there with the instructions I needed to clean the place from top to bottom.
“As the new guy, this is your job until you can prove to me you know what you’re doing. Consider it a sort of initiation.” Michael grinned at me then strode off whistling like he hadn’t a care in the world.
Muttering a few curses under my breath, I gather the supplies I need. It stank like hell and was damn hot in the mostly enclosed structure so I went to work, wanting to get it over with. Within ten minutes of hard-ass manual labor, I’m stripping off my shirt since I’m sweating like crazy. I leave it hanging over one of the stall’s doors then start digging into the pile of horseshit at the farthest corner of the stall.
What a freaking disgusting job. Not that I can’t hack it but man. The things I’d do for some cash in my pocket. I’m that desperate, something I can admit to myself but not anyone else. Michael told me the stable cleaning would only be about once a week since we mainly had to do it on the weekends. He also mentioned this was the worst part of the job. Otherwise, he reassured me, it was easy street. Like working at a country club or something, as if I have any idea what that’s like.
Country clubs are things I see on TV. I have no idea how that side of life really lives. I’m a broke joke, not a rich boy with money to waste. The building I’m in now is nicer than my apartment and this place houses the horses. I can’t imagine what the main house is like. I know what it looks like from the outside and it’s impressive. The house is huge, two stories and with giant windows. From what I can tell at least. Not that I’ve been inside or anything, but it looks pretty damn nice.
Almost too nice. I had no idea televangelists make so much money.
I work for a solid hour until the stables are practically gleaming they’re so clean. Working this hard, concentrating on doing a good job so they won’t fire me helps keep my mind off the heavy crap. The stuff that has been weighing on me since pretty much the moment I got out of jail.
I just want to forget, to lose myself in something mindless and push all the worry and the stress out of my head and my heart. I’m sick of it.
Pausing, I lean the shovel against the wall and glance around, one hand on my hip as I wipe at my damp-with-sweat forehead with the wrist of my other hand since I have gloves on. My throat feels like a desert, I’m so thirsty and the horses all watch me carefully, nodding their heads as if they like what I’ve done with the place.