Kiss and Tell 3 Read Online Free PDF Page A

to let him down if I didn’t get it. Letting myself down was hard enough. The more people who become involved, the harder it gets—and, I already knew there were was at least one other person who had to be involved.
    I had to tell Mom that Dessert Oasis called. I simply had to. She was the one who’d sent me on this wild goose chase of a job hunt, and she was the one I lied to and told I was looking for a job when, really, I was out and about wasting my time. She’d be pleased to learn I landed an interview, and telling her about Michelle’s call would be far more pleasant and bearable than telling her about anything else that recently happened.
    But, before I could call anyone or tell anyone anything, I had to get back into my house first. I was still standing outside as I was going over all of this in my head, and the professional pool guy who was working next door—Luke—was starting to look at me suspiciously again. I wondered if he had any idea what was going on. In his line of work, I’m sure he’d seen a lot in his day, but had he seen anything like the shit that just went down in London’s pool house? Granted, he hadn’t seen that either, but, still, I wondered.
    I smiled at look and nodded in his direction as I made my way to my kitchen door. He kind of just held the pool skimmer and looked at me before tossing his own smile back and getting on with his work.
    Once I was back inside my house, I searched the fridge for something tasty to eat. Much to my dismay, Mom had thrown away most of the leftovers from the party already—but not because they were getting old and still. They were just too decadent and too tempting.
    I found a container of cheese that Dad must have hidden, pulled it out, and tossed a hunk into my mouth. I grabbed a pen a piece of paper from the utility drawer, then sat down at the table. I pressed “Send” on my cell phone and waited as it dialed Dessert Oasis’ number.
    “Dessert Oasis,” the woman who answered sang out.
    “Hi,” I greeted. “May I please talk to Michelle Robins?”
    “Can I ask who’s calling?” the woman asked.
    “Kirby Miller,” I replied. “I’m returning her call. She called me earlier today, to set up an interview.”
    “Just a minute,” the woman responded. Her voice was soft and sweet, much like the desserts at Dessert Oasis. If I was hired there, would I be expected to talk like that?
    I picked up my pen and started doodling on the sheet of paper while I waited for Michelle to come on the line. About a minute later, I finally heard her voice.
    “Hi Kirby,” she said, just as pleasantly as the woman who’d spoken to me before her. “It’s Michelle… Can you come in Wednesday afternoon for an interview?”
    She had cut right to the chase. I liked that.
    “Sure,” I said, without pause. I didn’t have to think long about my schedule. I knew I was free all day Wednesday, and all day every other day, for that matter.
    “What time’s good for you?” Michelle asked.
    “My schedule is pretty clear that day,” I said, trying to be both modest and accommodating.
    “How about 3 p.m. then?” Michelle asked. “That’s actually a slow time for us—right before the evening rush—and we should have plenty of time to talk then… How does that sound?”
    “Sounds perfect,” I answered.
    I wrote down the day and time of my interview on the piece of paper in front of me, closed the conversation with Michelle politely, then smiled contently. I couldn’t believe how excited I was to be called in for an interview at a dessert shop. It was as if I’d won the lottery or something.
    I folded the piece of paper and took it with me to my room, where I set it on my nightstand, next to my charging tablet. I was home alone now, and it would still be a few more hours until my parents got back home. I thought about returning Mom’s call and telling her about my upcoming interview with Dessert Oasis, but I ultimately decided against it. I’d have