Page 76 of Our Crooked Hearts
“Oh.You need a bullshitter.”
She grinned at me.
Briefly I turned my eyes to the pressed-tin ceiling. “I’m not wearing any pointy hats, Linh. Also I’m allergic to cats. I don’t own a single cape. You sure you want me?”
She laughed. “You’ve got that red hair, man. It’s, like,red.My grandmother would’ve chased you down the street to take your picture. Hundred bucks a gig, and you’re never there more than two and a half hours. Sometimes less than two.”
I unfolded my arms. “Hundred bucks?”
“That’s after my cut.”
“What’s agig? How many in a week?”
She only answered the second question. “Realistically, two. Sometimes three, though. Our busy time’s about to start—May through September. I’ve got one tonight, you can come with me. Decide after you’ve seen how it works.”
I’d already decided. I didn’t even ask what I’d be doing. I’d learn soon enough.
