Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
“I work for the Human Resources Administration. Most of my position is helping New York City residents apply for government assistance, like food stamps or cash assistance.”
Brax raises his eyebrows, his turn to be surprised I guess. “That has to be grueling,” he says thoughtfully.
I nod, thinking how my job can be more monotonous than difficult. “At times it’s demanding. And a little sad. Some days it’s really hard to see people down on their luck like that.” I lean in toward Brax, appreciating his presence as I reflect on the troubles of real life.
“I can imagine,” Brax says, his tone full of sympathy.
“But I also have duties that are much less stressful,” I tell him quickly, not wanting to drag our conversation down the sad road of government assistance.
“And?” he encourages. I take a deep breath.
“Well, I’m trying to be more involved in workforce development, which is exactly what it sounds like. We’re trying to build better workers for the city’s labor force. So sometimes I sit with people and coach them on jobs and job prospects. Like I’ll read resumes or edit cover letters. Match them up with government contractors who are looking to hire. I don’t get to do this kind of work a lot, but when I can, I like it the most.”
Brax weaves his fingers through mine, clearly moved. “Sounds like you enjoy that kind of work more than helping people access safety net programs,” he points out.
“I do,” I tell him, playing with his hand. “But it’s really the non-profits that do most of the heavy lifting when it comes to workforce development. We partner together, but HRA is pretty much second fiddle in that department.”
“Then go work for a non-profit,” Brax says easily.
“Maybe,” I nod slowly.
The thing is, I know that he’s right: I should be working for a non-profit. I not only enjoy the work, but I like the selfless attitude of non-profit employees. HRA is wrapped in red tape and drowning in paperwork, and sometimes, I think my colleagues add to the bureaucracy instead of helping people work their way through the tangle.
Unfortunately, the reality of my situation is that money is tight, and non-profits don’t pay much. I’ve seen the job postings, and those salaries wouldn’t cover my rent, much less make a dent in my student loans.
I bite my lip, not really sure how much I want to reveal to Brax about my finances because I’m not exactly a wealthy woman. But at the same time, I feel like I can be completely honest with him and he would never judge me for choosing money over a dream.
“Ideally, I’d work for one of those non-profits,” I say slowly. “But I can’t do that until I’ve paid off my student debt. College was expensive and non-profits don’t pay as well as city jobs. It’ll have to wait.”
I smile, trying to displace any awkwardness I might have caused in talking about money.
“I see,” Brax says quietly. “That’s a mature approach. Even if it’s the hard choice.”
I nod. “That’s life. It’s all about hard choices.”
He chuckles. “You’re young, Morgan. You’ll get there soon enough. Besides, it sounds like you’re doing incredible work where you are. They’re lucky to have you.”
I blush, flattered by his praise. “I feel like all things Morgan have been dominating this conversation, mister. You need to talk more about yourself otherwise this is going to be all about me!”
“What can I say, I like learning more about you.” Brax winks. “Why, what do you want to know?”
I tap my chin, pretending to be think hard. “What do you do all day? Are you a surfer? Businessman? Island ruler? Let me guess—you do hula dances for La Mirage guests as part of the entertainment package! Wearing a loincloth, of course.”
Brax laughs, a deep sound that echoes in the still evening air.
“I surf but I’m not a surfer or anything that kind of hobby might imply,” he says, cocking an eyebrow. “But I’ll admit to loving the sea because I’m pretty sure I was swimming long before I could crawl.”
I grin at the idea of a baby Brax, cruising the waves.
“Okay, but that's not an answer. Do you work or…?” I ask the question, thinking about his luxurious apartment and wondering how someone who lives on a remote island can afford a place like that.
He nods as he takes another sip of his drink. “I’m a fisherman.”
I blink a few times. “A fisherman?” I repeat. “Like, on a boat?”
Brax grins broadly. “Yes, on a boat. I catch for the local market primarily. It works for me—I enjoy the physical labor, and like I said, I always prefer to be next to or in the water.”
“But your home is so…fancy.”
“Ah,” he interrupts. “Well, I wasn’t kidding when I told you that we own the island. The council has several sources of income, of which one is La Mirage, actually.”