I hate how short Sundays are. Is the only thing I think when I board the bus early morning the next day. I'm babysitting some kid today, a fourteen-year-old girl whose parents need a reliable person to guard their treasure for one afternoon. I swear that's what it said, some people just have the strangest combination of words.
I yawned into my hand before taking out my paperback novel. Historical romance was my thing, I like to lose myself in the old words, petticoats, and lords that fell head over heels with the maid or the wallflower. I eyed the streets, I was two stops from my destiny but traffic had made my travel time longer. I texted the mom not to worry, that I was on my way and she called me right away.
The house was huge, the couple magazine-like and the kid, well a brat. She w
