The beginning is a little Stephanie Plum and the story has a few elements of The Bounty Hunter. I've only seen bits and pieces of that movie, although I used to watch Dog when he was on the air years ago. Nor have I ever read any of the Janet Evanovich books, I have however seen "One for the Money" - the movie. This story is NOT a DE remake of either of those, the plot is very much my own.
There is one person that Elena's never been able to shake. Some guys have the innate ability to enter a girl's life and throw in an occasional monkey wrench. Damon Salvatore did this to her — not always but from time to time. They were both born and raised in the city of Clearwater, Florida. It's a great place to grow up - home to some of the best beaches in America. Damon and his family lived a few blocks over. He has a couple years on her; his brother, Stefan was one of her classmates.
"You should keep your distance from those Salvatore boys, especially the older one," her mother had repeatedly warned her, almost to the point of nagging. "I've heard stories..." she'd say.
"What kinds of stories?" Elena would ask.
"You don't want to know," her mother would reply, never elaborating any further. Never one to be scared off by her mother's theatrics, not two weeks later, she followed Damon into his father's garage with the promise of him learning a new game...
Giuseppe Salvatore's workshop sat on one corner of their large lot. Although now it's more of an eyesore, she's actually surprised the city hasn't served him with a notice to tear it down. Her recollection is different. She remembers it being lit by the sunlight filtering through the grimy windows. Their father - now retired - was an auto-mechanic, slash welder, slash jack of all trades. He fixed her bike when it got ran over one time.
She remembers the workshop well - stagnant air, smelling of musty basement, tire rubber, used motor oil and old metal advertising signs on the walls. Giuseppe sometimes used it to discipline his sons when they needed it, and Damon Salvatore took her, Elena Gilbert, to his workshop one afternoon to play show and tell...
Fifteen years later, Damon and Stefan's parents still live just a few blocks from hers. Damon - with eyes like blue fire - has a raven tattooed on his pec, a tight-assed, narrow-hipped swagger, and a reputation for having fast hands and skilled fingers.
Her best friend, Caroline Forbes, said his tongue is magic. When Elena asked her how she knew that, her silence spoke volumes.
"You kissed him?"
"Well yeah, he oozes sex. If he wants you, you're doomed. The guy is irresistible."
Elena had worked as a bartender in Clearwater. Through no fault of her own, she lost her job when her employer decided to retire. Not having a buyer for the pub, he closed it down for good. She's been out of work for a few weeks. In need of cash, she started doing temporary and day jobs while applying at every business in the area. Every night she eats a can of ravioli or chicken and stars soup while reading the want ads...
Her father forks another slab of pork roast onto his plate. He's a physician in Clearwater, and has had his practice for over 30 years.
"I saw Jeremy yesterday; he's looking for someone to help with filing and secretarial type work. You should give him a call."
"How much does he pay?" she asks, sticking a forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.
Grayson shrugs. "Minimum wage at the very least."
Wonderful. Just perfect for someone already in the doldrums. Rotten boss. Rotten job. Rotten pay. The possibilities of feeling sorry for herself are an already endless loop.
"Beggars can't be choosers dear," Miranda intones, stabbing at her bowl of lettuce.
Elena forces a smile knowing she'd rather poke a fork in her eye.
Sunlight slants through the crack in her bedroom curtains, the air-conditioning unit in the living room window drones ominously, and the digital display on her clock radio flashes blue numbers. Elena rolls out of bed and pads into the bathroom. When she's done, she shuffles into the kitchen and stands in front of the refrigerator. Opening the door, she stares at the empty shelves, noting that she really needs to make a trip to the grocery store.
There's a jar of mustard, half a loaf of wheat bread, a bottle of beer, a head of cabbage, she could make some coleslaw with. Shrugging, she reaches for the beer and wonders if it's too early to drink it. It's five o'clock somewhere...she rationalizes and twists off the cap. She takes a swallow, and pulls back the curtains, it's a beautiful day. The sun is shimmering off the Gulf waters, then her eyes drift to her beat up old VW. It was her first car and despite its rather lackluster appearance, she can't make herself part with it.
Raking her hand through her hair, her stomach turns slightly at what she has to do today, having promised her dad that she'd go talk to Jeremy.
She dumps what's left of the beer down the sink then drags herself into the shower and stumbles out a half hour later. After throwing on some jeans and a tee shirt, she's ready to go.
Elena locks up her apartment then climbs into her VW, and drives to Jer's business. She pulls into a parking space, extracts the key from the ignition, takes a deep breath and climbs out. The blue and white sign over the door reads Jeremy Gilbert Bail Bonds. In smaller letters it advertises twenty-four-hour nationwide service. Domestic disturbances, dis-orderlies, auto theft, DWI, and shoplifting etc., etc., etc.
The office is moderately sized, consisting of two rooms, a bathroom. The wallpaper is yellowing and the floor is covered in brown carpet with a couple of throw rugs. She wonders if maybe they're covering bald spots? A black faux-leather couch sits flush against one wall, a cheap looking desk with a phone and a computer occupies a far corner.
Jeremy's secretary sits behind the desk, her head bent in concentration, picking her way through a stack of files. "Did you need something?" she looks up.
"I'm Elena Gilbert, I'm here to see Jeremy."
"I'm Anna Zhu. I hope you're not here to make bail."
"No, my parents told me that Jeremy needs someone to do secretarial work."
"We just hired someone, and between you and me, you lucked out, it's a crummy job. Not only that but you have to spend all day on your knees. My feeling is, if you're going to spend that much time on your knees, there are jobs that pay better than your cousin does and you know what I mean?" she laughs and Elena can't help but laugh with her.
"Last time I was on my knees was two years ago. I was... well you know..."
Anna laughs again, "Listen, if you really need a job, why don't you get Jeremy to let you do a little skip chasing? The money's good."
"How much are we talking here?"
"You get ten percent of the bond." Anna pulls a file from her top drawer. "We just got this one in, he didn't show up for court so now there's a bench warrant out for him. Bail was set at $50,000, if you can find and bring him in, you'd get $5000."
Elena puts a hand to the desk to steady myself. "Five grand for finding one guy? Whew," she exclaims.
"Sometimes they don't want to be found, and they shoot at you. But that's not an everyday occurrence." Anna fingers through the file. "There's pictures and everything."
Elena's starting to get excited. The money is very tempting, and the job title has a certain je nes sais quoi. On the other hand, it's not without its flaws, and she's not really keen on getting shot or dead.
"My guess is, it shouldn't be too hard to find this guy," Anna starts, handing her the file. "If it gets dicey, we can always give the FTA to someone else."
"FTA?"
"Failure to appear," Anna clarifies.
"I'm not anxious to get shot at, what if he hits me?"
"You'll get used to it."
"Easy for you to say when you're sitting behind a desk. Although the five grand is damn appealing..." Elena's silent for a few moments as she mulls it over. "I'll do it."
"You'll have to get the okay from your cousin first, Anna swivels her chair, "Hey Jer," she yells.
He leans back in his chair so he can see through the door and rakes his eyes over Elena.
"Elena wants to try her hand at bounty hunting."
"No way. What do you know about it?"
"I'm a quick learner," she defends herself. "And with all this free time on my hands, I'll be able to catch up with April."
"You'd blackmail your own flesh and blood?"
"Desperate times and all," Elena shoots a look at him.
"You always were a pain in my ass..."
"Says the pot to the kettle," Elena retorts, raising an eyebrow. Knowing she's got the upper hand, she asks, "Who am I looking for?"
Jeremy hands her the file.
"Damon Salvatore."
I never expected to come back to FF honestly. I have been beyond frustrated with everything Covid-19 - I had to be tested after getting some symptoms, missing work but it was negative. And as equally frustrating as writing is for me right now too, I did somehow eek this out. This is a decent length story. Let me know what you think, I couldn't get the idea of bounty hunter Elena out of my head.
Thank you Eva for being there, letting me drop my frustrations on you, talking me down from the ledge.
Take care and have a wonderful day.