material. It felt as good as it looked. Olivia zipped it open and went through all the inside pockets. “That’ll hold all your stuff, yeah?” She grinned and practically vibrated with excitement. “Briony’s going to be jealous she didn’t get one.”
Her head snapped up and she pushed the bag toward me. “She can have this one.”
My hand went to my heart. This kid was too considerate for words. She had something in her hands that she really wanted and she was willing to give it up. “Oh, sweetie, no. I was kidding. This bag’s perfect for you.” I glanced at Willa, who looked equally impressed with Olivia’s offer, and then we both looked away. I could feel tears prick my eyes.
“Yeah, that one’s yours,” Willa confirmed. “If Briony wants one, I might let her buy one off our site. But only if she’s good.”
“Thank you so much,” Olivia offered in an amazed voice, soliciting the same from the boys.
“Maybe I want a backpack,” Caleb joked as he made a move toward her bag.
“Keep your paws to yourself, punk,” Willa ordered and grabbed his shoulders, sliding him into a locking hold. Hank giggled as Caleb struggled to break the hold. He was getting a lot stronger, but that hold was pretty effective.
“C’mon, guys,” Terrance shouted as he passed by Willa’s office on the way out to the lobby workstations.
Willa let Caleb free and he and Hank sprinted after their friend. Olivia lingered, not as eager to get started.
“Is Helen here yet?” I asked of Willa’s chef sister, who usually came to town to prepare dinners for Willa’s staff right before they launched a game.
“Last night. She’s already whining about needing help in the kitchen. I should have checked Quinn’s schedule before deciding on a launch date. Normally they cook together.”
“You’re not going to do it, are you?” I kidded. My friend was a wonderful, generous person, who ran her business better than anyone I’d ever met, but she was a disaster in the kitchen.
“Ha-ha. I’m a pretty good prep chef. Just don’t let me cook anything.”
“Liv’s a great cook,” I bragged and Olivia startled next to me before a blush hit her cheeks. She helped in the kitchen all the time and really seemed to like it. I didn’t think Willa would mind if I angled for a different job.
“Really? Do you like it, Liv?” Willa asked her.
“Sure,” she admitted.
“My sister’s in town. She cooks for the crew during crunch time to ensure we get at least one healthy meal a day. She could use the help if you’re interested.”
Olivia looked at me first, asking permission. She did this for almost everything—yet another habit picked up by living in foster homes. I swallowed hard as memories came flooding back. I’d hated the foster homes I lived in and not just because of what happened to me in one of them. Nothing felt good about living under different rules in every house, tiptoeing around the parents, avoiding the permanent and temporary kids, and never, ever feeling at home. For Olivia, hers weren’t nearly as bad, but they had been overpopulated.
“I bet Helen would be grateful for the help,” I encouraged her.
“Sous chefs earn five dollars more an hour than testers, Liv,” Willa said, making me want to both smack her and thank her. The kids were already making double minimum wage testing the games.
“You’d pay me?” Olivia asked in wonder.
“Of course. Helen’s going to work you pretty hard.”
“She doesn’t mind having a kid around?”
Willa shook her head and smiled. “She digs kids. You guys will get along great. If M has time, let’s all go over to meet her and help out a bit. If you like it, the job’s yours. If not, you come back with me and continue testing.”
Olivia’s eyes pinged back to mine. “Do you have time?”
I had papers to grade and had been looking forward to a couple of quiet hours at home, but this was a good opportunity for Olivia. Technically a work situation,
Her head snapped up and she pushed the bag toward me. “She can have this one.”
My hand went to my heart. This kid was too considerate for words. She had something in her hands that she really wanted and she was willing to give it up. “Oh, sweetie, no. I was kidding. This bag’s perfect for you.” I glanced at Willa, who looked equally impressed with Olivia’s offer, and then we both looked away. I could feel tears prick my eyes.
“Yeah, that one’s yours,” Willa confirmed. “If Briony wants one, I might let her buy one off our site. But only if she’s good.”
“Thank you so much,” Olivia offered in an amazed voice, soliciting the same from the boys.
“Maybe I want a backpack,” Caleb joked as he made a move toward her bag.
“Keep your paws to yourself, punk,” Willa ordered and grabbed his shoulders, sliding him into a locking hold. Hank giggled as Caleb struggled to break the hold. He was getting a lot stronger, but that hold was pretty effective.
“C’mon, guys,” Terrance shouted as he passed by Willa’s office on the way out to the lobby workstations.
Willa let Caleb free and he and Hank sprinted after their friend. Olivia lingered, not as eager to get started.
“Is Helen here yet?” I asked of Willa’s chef sister, who usually came to town to prepare dinners for Willa’s staff right before they launched a game.
“Last night. She’s already whining about needing help in the kitchen. I should have checked Quinn’s schedule before deciding on a launch date. Normally they cook together.”
“You’re not going to do it, are you?” I kidded. My friend was a wonderful, generous person, who ran her business better than anyone I’d ever met, but she was a disaster in the kitchen.
“Ha-ha. I’m a pretty good prep chef. Just don’t let me cook anything.”
“Liv’s a great cook,” I bragged and Olivia startled next to me before a blush hit her cheeks. She helped in the kitchen all the time and really seemed to like it. I didn’t think Willa would mind if I angled for a different job.
“Really? Do you like it, Liv?” Willa asked her.
“Sure,” she admitted.
“My sister’s in town. She cooks for the crew during crunch time to ensure we get at least one healthy meal a day. She could use the help if you’re interested.”
Olivia looked at me first, asking permission. She did this for almost everything—yet another habit picked up by living in foster homes. I swallowed hard as memories came flooding back. I’d hated the foster homes I lived in and not just because of what happened to me in one of them. Nothing felt good about living under different rules in every house, tiptoeing around the parents, avoiding the permanent and temporary kids, and never, ever feeling at home. For Olivia, hers weren’t nearly as bad, but they had been overpopulated.
“I bet Helen would be grateful for the help,” I encouraged her.
“Sous chefs earn five dollars more an hour than testers, Liv,” Willa said, making me want to both smack her and thank her. The kids were already making double minimum wage testing the games.
“You’d pay me?” Olivia asked in wonder.
“Of course. Helen’s going to work you pretty hard.”
“She doesn’t mind having a kid around?”
Willa shook her head and smiled. “She digs kids. You guys will get along great. If M has time, let’s all go over to meet her and help out a bit. If you like it, the job’s yours. If not, you come back with me and continue testing.”
Olivia’s eyes pinged back to mine. “Do you have time?”
I had papers to grade and had been looking forward to a couple of quiet hours at home, but this was a good opportunity for Olivia. Technically a work situation,
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