Page 6 of Puck with Karma
“My daughter did that a time or two. She always complained more about it on the next day.”
With that, he closes the door in my face and steps to the front to get in the driver’s seat.
“I was instructed to take you to your apartment by the arena,” John informs me. “Mr. Richmond organized for you to start tomorrow morning, first thing,” he continues, referring to the owner of the Minnesota Cats.
This is the first job I got on my own at the ripe age of twenty-four. No one put in a good word for me. In fact, I never told anyone back home that I was doing this until I got the news that I passed my interview with flying colors. It is only an internship position, but it could lead to a permanent one if I prove myself, which I fully intend to.
“That’s great,” I call to the front.
We continue having small talk until we make it to the apartment that was included in the internship package I received. Another perk is the fact that I am within walking distance from the arena. All in all, this is perfect, and it brings me one step closer to my dream job.
I’ve always dreamed of being a sports agent. Having an older brother who is a professional athlete has been the driving force behind this from day one. The fact that he hasn’t been in contact with me or anyone in the family did not stop me. I decided that I would be the best damn agent out there, at which point, my brother would beg me to represent him and make him a ton of money. And maybe I’d laugh in his face. I haven’t figured out that part yet.
“We’re here, miss,” John brings me back to the present. I look up and find that we are indeed in front of a high-rise building. When I glance across the busy street, I find myself looking at the massive logo of none other than the Minnesota Cats hockey team.
“Wow, that’s amazing.” I am talking to myself, but John hears me.
“It is very impressive,” he agrees. “And no excuse for being late for work.”
I let out a soft giggle. “So true. I love it!”
I gather my large crossbody bag, sliding it over my shoulder before getting out of the car. John already has my large suitcase out of the trunk.
“I’ll introduce you to the doorman. He is very nice, and everyone at the arena loves him.”
We start walking toward the main door to the building.
“Do a lot of the employees from the arena live here?”
John turns surprised eyes my way. “Employees? Well, yes, you could say that.”
I don’t have time to ask for more clarification because we are greeted by the doorman. Everything feels like a whirlwind after that. He hands me keys to my apartment, a list with useful phone numbers, along with instructions on where the laundry room is in the building, gym, convenience store around the corner, grocery store two blocks down, the works.
“Thank you so much, John. You didn’t have to walk me all the way to the door.” I am standing awkwardly in the doorway, almost nervous to walk into my apartment. It will be my home for the duration of my internship, which is six months.
“You have my number if you need anything else, miss.” John drops my suitcase inside the door. “And Burt downstairs is always a very good resource as well.”
I close the door after him and take a minute to lean against it. My eyes go in all directions at once, almost unable to take anything in.
“I can’t believe I’m here!” I do a little happy dance, giddy with excitement.
The apartment is nothing special, quite small in comparison to the luxuries I was accustomed to while at home. But I feel so lucky to have it. I love it. It is the first place ever that I am personally responsible for. I’ll have to keep up with the cleaning,cook for myself, do my own laundry. All the things that have always been done for me.
I burst into laughter when I check out the closet in the bedroom. It is only big enough to store the contents of my suitcase inside of it. I grab my phone and hit the video chat app on it. Within seconds, my screen comes to life, showing my two best friends.
“I was about to lose my mind waiting for you to call!” Hannah, as always, is the loud mouth of the two. “What took you so long?”
“Hannah,” Riley calls her name in a soft, albeit chastising tone. “You’re too dramatic sometimes.”
“I just wanted to make sure she was still alive,” Hannah deadpans, referring to me. I take that as my cue to start talking.
“I literally walked into my apartment five minutes ago,” I explain. “I wanted to show you, guys.”
“Yes! Show us!”
They are both excited as I move my phone around, making sure the camera catches every single detail.
“That closet is smaller than the pantry at your parents’ house,” Hannah cracks up when she sees it. “Your mother is going to lose her mind at seeing that!”
