only need paint brushes and...”
“Painting the ceiling in here to look like the sky isn’t a great idea.” Kyle crossed his arms over his chest. He’d given Iris free rein to design the bathrooms and hang her own artwork in the elevator. The arcade, he intended to leave alone. The family basement never had a ceiling painted to look like the sky. He didn’t need that now.
“With the right lighting in here, it’d look incredible.” Iris adjusted her purse on her shoulder and stared up at the ceiling. “You have no imagination.”
He used to have one that helped him create endless ideas. He wasn’t sure where his imagination had fled to or how to find it. “I don’t need an imagination to recognize when something is a waste of time and money.”
“Art is never a waste of time.” Her voice was confident, her tone defiant. “But I don’t expect you to understand.”
He understood his sister needed a job with a regular paycheck. “I’ll pick you up at seven tonight.”
“Any other orders?”
He couldn’t resist the urge to bait her. “Get a class calendar from the yoga studio. When you start working full-time again, you won’t be able to attend a late-morning yoga session with Roland.”
Iris glared at him and yanked open the door. She exited without a goodbye. He shouldn’t have baited her. Yet when she was riled, she lost her fragility and vulnerability. Whenever Iris was riled, he saw a glimpse of his older sister—the one with the backbone and spirit that had come to his defense more than once. The one he’d grown up wanting to be like. Was it wrong that he wanted the sister he once knew?
AVA RUBBED HER eyes and looked out the passenger window of the ambulance, idling in their usual curbside spot on the street. Three hours ago, the clock had chimed for Cinderellas everywhere to return home before the magic disappeared. Now Dan and Ava were stuck in the middle, between midnight and sunrise, with four hours left on their work shift.
The darkest hour of the night might’ve already passed, but the city only ever went completely dark in a rare power outage. Tonight was no different with the stoplight lighting the intersection and the surrounding buildings lit in awkward checkerboard patterns.
Tourists knew the city for its landmarks: Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz and Lombard Street with its eight hairpin turns. Ava marked the city by patients and victims, especially the ones that had left the deepest mark inside her. Six blocks ahead on the left was the cardiac plaza. Chest pains and shortness of breath were the main reasons for 9-1-1 calls from that particular office building. Four blocks to her right was her first hit-and-run intersection. Every time she passed the corner of Cliff Street and Gate Street, the anguish of a mother’s cries over her stillborn baby echoed through her.
Ava stared out the window, searching for a less morbid memory. Only gloom overtook her. That was her own fault for inviting her financial problems inside the ambulance. She should’ve stuck to the cute puppy and kitten videos she usually watched between emergency calls and not opened the help-wanted website on her phone.
But watching endless videos wasn’t going to pay the rent or cover the cost of her mom’s prescriptions. Neither was her paramedic’s salary. She had to supplement her income.
She scrolled through the job ads on her phone and groaned.
“Nothing promising?” Dan asked between bites of his cheeseburger.
“It’s a toss-up between airplane repo man, exotic personal assistant or nude housekeeper.” Ava dropped her phone on her lap.
Dan choked on his bite of french fry.
Ava handed Dan his bottle of water. “In all fairness, the nude part ends when the guy’s wife returns from her vacation. Then it’s just regular housekeeping.”
Dan wiped a napkin over his mouth and muted the laughter in his voice. “How much does the housekeeper get paid?”
“Not nearly enough.” The housekeeping would barely cover the expense of her mom’s daily medications. That left rent, electric and food.
“For the fast, easy payout, you should enter Kyle’s contest. You get to keep your clothes on, unless of course your invention involves being naked.” Dan crumpled the empty foil wrapper from his cheeseburger along with the tease from his tone. “Although that doesn’t seem like the kind of X-rated idea Kyle wants in his contest.”
“How do you know what Kyle wants?” She wanted to see Kyle again. But only in the can-I-play-Skee-Ball kind of way. Nothing more. She had no time for a man in her life.
Even if she did, Kyle wouldn’t make the cut. Anyone who could fund a random contest with fifty thousand dollars in less than a week, on a whim no less, played on a different field than she did. One that was no doubt carefree, worry-free and extra green from his money. Her field consisted of financial debt and possible job burnout—not exactly greener pastures or enticing.
“Ben and I checked out Kyle’s website.” Dan polished off the last of his french fries. “We’re trying to come up with a winning invention.”
That money, along with the potential bonus, would allow Ava to go to school and pay for her mom’s care. No naked housekeeping required. Temptation swirled through her. But she had to come up with an idea better than mood-changing hair dye. She’d need a serious, workable idea. One worth twenty-five grand. “Surely you guys have something on your list of wins from our You-Know-What-We-Need game.”
“Nothing worthy of fifty grand,” Dan said.
“Then it’s not such an easy, quick payout.” Like everything in life. Life was never that easy or simple. Ever.
“You just need one idea.” Dan held up his index finger. “One.”
“One really good idea that hasn’t been thought of already.” Ava stretched her legs out and flexed her toes inside her boots, rolled her ankles. Nothing smoothed out the sudden restlessness inside her. “An invention that can also be made into a prototype.”
Dan scrunched up his napkin and threw it at her. “You looked into the contest, too. What is your idea?”
“I talked to Kyle about the contest when we were there.” She’d considered the contest in a the-sky-is-always-pink-in-that-world kind of way. Putting her energy into a fantasy made her selfish like her father. She had to do what was right for her family, not only herself. Believing she could win a contest was a risk she couldn’t afford. She tapped on her phone screen to search for more job ads. “My only idea is to find a legal, non-nude, part-time job that pays well.”
Dan tapped the steering wheel. “You have better odds with the contest or the lottery.”
She refused to believe that. She had to be thoughtful and methodical in her job search. Entering a contest and wishing on stars wasn’t practical. “I just have to search the right job-ad website.”
Dispatch interrupted the conversation. Codes. Location. And more details rattled over the speaker, focusing Ava.
Who was she kidding? She wasn’t an inventor or a forward thinker. She was a paramedic who’d served her country and now took care of her mother. She tended to the wounded and sick—that was what she knew how to do. What she excelled at. Ava buckled her seat belt and left her ridiculous thoughts about inventions outside, in the gutter.
“Time to roll.” Dan buckled his seat belt. “Told you that you should’ve eaten while we had the chance.”
Stress had stolen her appetite. With each block closer to the victim’s location, she crammed the stress deep inside her, where it wouldn’t distract her. She couldn’t rescue her struggling finances, but she could help save another life.
* * *
FORTY-EIGHT