put these on.” Joe handed out orange safety vests.
Leesa looked around at the seven other women donning vests: four black, three Caucasian, and one Hispanic. Two wore ankle bracelets. Leesa remembered what Aaron said about her attitude and kept her mouth shut, making sure to follow instructions. She pulled on her rubber gloves and took the long stick with sharp end for trash pickup.
She headed for a pile of debris in the corner of the lot. A car drove by and honked. She jumped.
The muscular black woman, covered in tattoos and wearing an orange vest matching the streak in her hair, waved them off with her middle finger. “They act like they never done nothing wrong.” Then she laughed. “Or got caught. I’m Kayla.”
Leesa said nothing, stabbing a discarded paper cup and depositing it in her bright orange plastic bag. Her goal was to fill as many bags as possible. Aaron said to make a good impression. She bent over and gathered a bunch of newspapers, which filled her bag.
After less than fifteen minutes of such work, sweat poured from her forehead into her eyes. The warm California sun beat down on the crew. Leesa turned in her third filled bag.
Joe called the group to the van. “All right. This looks good. Let’s get on over to I-10 and get some roadside cleanup done. Everyone in, ankle bracelets in front.”
Leesa climbed into one of the back seats. The air conditioning kicked in after a few minutes, and she felt welcome relief from the heat of the day. She already smelled her own sweat and felt filthy.
Twenty minutes later, the van stopped on one side of the highway. Joe ordered everyone out, and the women scattered to pick up trash. Joe drove along the side, keeping pace with them. Leesa left her full trash bags along the road for later pickup, grabbing new ones off the back of the van when it stopped every now and then.
The van stopped once again. “Over here! Everyone take a break and get some water.” Joe nodded toward the large plastic container with white spout at the bottom at the back door of the van. “Here’s a paper cup. When you’re finished, put it in the recycle bag.” He picked up a blue bag to show them. “You got ten minutes to rest. Let’s get this done.”
Boy, am I going to be sore in the morning. Leesa kept working silently while Kayla, working beside her, kept talking all morning about why she shouldn’t be there and who was going to pay if she chipped one of her nails.
Near the end of the morning, Kayla turned on Leesa. “What’s wrong with you, girl? You think you better than the rest of us?”
Kayla stabbed the same piece of trash as Leesa. “You can’t talk, or you just a jerk?”
Leesa looked her in the eye. “I can’t afford to get into any more trouble. Please don’t make it any harder than it already is.”
Kayla threw her head back and laughed. “I’m trying to make it easier, girl.”
Leesa frowned. “How do you figure?”
Kayla smirked. “You just wait. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I hope not.
Joe motioned for all the women to get in the van. Back at the Los Angeles County Courthouse parking lot, he let them out to go home. Leesa waited until everyone left, walked to the corner, and called for the limo waiting nearby.
The limo pulled up, and she got in, thankful for the air conditioning going full blast. She couldn’t wait to get home and get clean. She lay back in the seat, exhausted and dreading the next day, when her orders were to meet the crew again early in the morning. She couldn’t wait to see what Cook had waiting for dinner.
Leesa dragged herself into the house, tired and dirty. She headed toward the stairs to shower.
Cook poked her head around from the kitchen. “Leesa, what would you like for dinner?”
Leesa’s stomach growled. She was hungry. “Pizza!”
***
Cook answered cheerfully, “Pizza it is, then. You get cleaned up, and it’ll be ready.”
She started pulling ingredients from the pantry and refrigerator. She could throw a pizza together in no time.
Poor thing. I don’t understand how she got so much community service for a traffic ticket. I still can’t believe Lawrence left everything to his grandson. At least Leesa has this estate and her bank account and investments. Lyza wants her to come back to work, but I don’t know if that will ever happen.
Leesa entered the kitchen as Cook took hot pizza from the oven.
She set it on the counter. “Here you go.”
Leesa grabbed a cold Diet Pepsi out of the refrigerator. “Oh, this is perfect.”
Cook’s heart went out her. “How did it go today?”
Leesa sat at the kitchen bar. “I don’t want to think about it. Two hundred hours of community service—that is forever!”
Cook served Leesa a slice of pizza. “But didn’t you say that after this week you might get a better community service assignment?”
Leesa took a long swig of Pepsi. “That’s what Aaron Stern said. I hope I can keep up the good work and not get in trouble. One of the girls wants to chit-chat. If I don’t talk to her, she thinks I’m a snob. You should see her, Cook. She’s scary, and I don’t want her for an enemy. But if I do talk to her, I might never get off trash duty.”
Cook sat on the stool across from her. “Is there any way you can work with someone else?”
Leesa lifted the hot pizza to her mouth. “I don’t know. I have to wait and see what happens tomorrow. I am so tired. I’m going to bed as soon as I’m done here.” She blew on the tip of the steaming pizza and took a bite.
Cook smiled. “Before you go, Lyza called.”
Leesa spoke with her mouth full. “Oh, great. What did she want? Because if she called to rub it in, forget it.”
Cook handed her a napkin. “No, she said she wanted to talk to you about taking back the Kramer’s Island project.”
Leesa froze. “Kramer’s Island? My Kramer’s Island? My dream project? She wants me to take my own project? How dare she! She took everything, and now it’s just like her to rub it in. I hate her. Oh, I’m too tired to get mad.” She pushed the half-eaten pizza away. “I’m going to bed.”
Chapter Four
Leesa rolled out of bed before sunrise. She rubbed her back. “Oh, oh! I hurt everywhere.”
She checked the time. I’ve got to get moving. I can’t be late. It took all her resolve to get up and showered for the day. The warm water beating on her back gave some relief.
She dressed in light sweats with a jacket she could remove when it got hot. Still dark, she made her way out to the limo, which dropped her off half an hour early—before anyone else arrived—a block from the building. She stood outside the building to wait for the white van. Forty-five minutes later, Joe ordered the crew to get in the van.
He drove past the spot they worked the day before and stopped. “Today we’re going to get a few more miles done on I-10. Everybody out. Fill those bags. Remember, no talking. Let’s get this done. It’s going to be a hot one.”
They stepped out of the air-conditioned van into the hot, humid morning.
Kayla made her way to Leesa. “Hot out here, isn’t it?’
“Yes.” Leesa kept her head down and concentrated on picking up trash.
“You look like your back hurts.”
Leesa put down the pole to rub her back. “Oh, yes, I guess I overdid it yesterday.”
Kayla moved closer. “I got something for that.” Leesa stepped