The Proposition

Chapter 1

Norma walked into 'Hunters' a job recruitment agency, gave her name to the receptionist and was told to take a seat.

She slid her cell out from her coat pocket and messaged Norman to tell him not to worry and that she would be home soon with dinner.

'Ms Rey will see you now Mrs Bates. Just through there please,' she said pointing to the door on her left.

Norma was welcomed by a skinny, pretty young thing. 'Norma, how are you?'

'Miranda, thanks for seeing me. Appreciate it.'

Miranda nodded, took a seat and gestured for Norma to sit.

Norma reached into her purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to the other woman. 'My references. I have a good feeling about this one.'

She had been short-listed for a legal receptionist position for a local Firm.

Miranda pursed her lips. 'The position has been filled. I am so sorry Norma.'

Those few small words crushed her. 'How? You just called me yesterday.'

She was sick to death of applying for jobs. Everyone kept telling her that she had a lack of experience and apparently...a 'bad temper' - as her last boss had put it.

'They went with someone else. Lawyers,' she said flipping her hair back, 'ruthless people.'

Miranda was right. She was married to one. Norma had often seen Miranda and her husband at the local diner. Job probably went to one of her gal-pals.

What Miranda didn't know was that hubby was fucking one of the waitresses. Norma used to work nights in the kitchen. That had been her last job. She'd gone out back one night for a fag after work, and seen them doing it up against the wall in the alley. They thought everyone had left.

Ruthless indeed.

'So why did you call me in? You could have told me this over the phone,' Norma snapped, her temper getting the better of her. 'I do have things to do you know.'

'I just heard,' Miranda explained. 'The other candidate was very prompt with her references you see.'

'Okay. Right.' Norma pulled her bag over her shoulder, getting ready to go. 'Well, if that's all.'

Miranda ushered her to stay. 'I know you've been looking for work for a while now Norma, and well I want to help.'

She stood, walked to the water cooler and poured two tall glasses of water. 'I have a proposition for you,' she said, handing Norma a glass.

Intrigued, Norma sat back down again in silence.

'I don't know if you know, but I'm actually Columbian. My parents immigrated to this country when I was small.'

'That's nice and everything but I really don't see what that has to do with -'

Miranda cut her off with a small smile. 'Please Norma, let me explain'. Norma nodded and she continued. 'My uncle is not well and he needs a full-time carer.'

'O-kay. And you think that I could...'

'Well word around town is that you were an aged care worker? And you're so good with Norman.'

'I don't know what you've heard Miranda, but there's nothing wrong with my son.' She crossed her arms in defence. 'And I was a volunteer at a home for a short period. My mother was very ill, if you must know.'

'Sorry. I didn't mean to overstep. But, does that sort of work interest you?'

Norma crossed, then uncrossed her legs. This was not what she had expected. She didn't want to care for some old fuddy duddy. But, her situation was getting worse. She had waited until 5.30PM to get half price chicken.

'I'm not really in a situation to pick and choose,' she told her honestly.

'Even so. I wouldn't want you to do something that you would be uncomfortable with.'

'Why would I be uncomfortable?'

Miranda tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 'There's a tiny catch. You would need to marry him you see.'

Norma's eyes widened. Now That she had not expected. 'Sorry?'

'Well, it would only be a formality ofcourse.' She let out a big laugh. 'No strings attached!'

She might be a bit mad. Norma should really get up and leave. But, she stayed and listened. She was desperate.

'He needs to stay in the US. He'd move in with you, but you'd be his wife -only on paper. That's it.'

'And staying with you isn't an option?' Norma wrinkled her brow. 'Can't you get him one of those family-type visas?'

'He needs 24 hour care Norma. I don't have that sort of time on my hands,' she told her, pointing to the mountain of paper work on her desk and to the boxed piled up against the back wall. 'He needs a more permanent arrangement, so a visa wouldn't really work. He wants to come and live here so that he can be closer to his estranged daughter. The daughter is not well. She is in a rehabilitation facility.'

Miranda scribbled something down on a bit of paper, tore it off and passed it to Norma.

Norma unfolded it and glared down at the 7 figures. She was dumb-struck.

'What do you think? It's negotiable.'

Norma looked up slowly, then tilted her head to one side. 'Is this a joke Miranda? Because I have no time or patience for this.' She had been screwed around enough.

Miranda leaned forward. 'I do not joke,' she said in a low, serious voice.

'I want a contract,' Norma told her.

Miranda clasped her hands in front of her and looked down as though unsure. 'I will see what I can do.'

'I need something in writing Miranda,' she pressed.

'I think that can be arranged. I'll make some calls.'

Norma took a few big gulps of water, then said, 'Okay.'

'Yes?' Miranda beamed.

'Maybe...'

'Expect a call from a woman. Maria-Luisa.'

Just before Norma headed out the door, she asked, 'What's his name?'

'Alex. His name is Alex Romero.'