Part Time

~Alexie Ivanov~

The tension in the air struck me as amusing, even though the girl beside me on the passenger seat wore a sullen expression. I absentmindedly licked my lips again, savoring the lingering sensation of her warm lips on the cup. This girl was undeniably getting under my skin. A groan from her snapped me back to reality, and I sternly reminded myself to stay focused. She was my responsibility, entrusted to me by my mentor. Entertaining such thoughts was... risky.

I observed as she slowly straightened up, her cloudy judgment seemingly cooled by the surrounding air. She glanced at me, noting my stoic expression. Were her plum lips tempting? Undoubtedly. Did I feel the urge to give in to desire? Absolutely. Yet, I would never confess to such impulses. With anyone else, I might have taken control, indulging in a myriad of pleasures until satisfaction was reached. But Nari was different; she was not mine to claim, ever.

Rubbing her temples, she retrieved her phone, staring intently at the maps displayed on the screen. I discerned her intentions; days of her search history unfolded before me, a result of my access to all online searches made through the house's internet connection. I was well aware of her destination and the thoughts occupying her mind. Internally, I sighed disapprovingly. This generation seemed readily enslaved to the woes of the internet and the masters who wielded control over the plethora of information it offered. It was disconcerting how easily one could delve into a person's mind, gaining access and, subsequently, control.

"Um... can we make a pit stop somewhere before heading to the house?" she asked.

"Yes, sure," I responded, well aware of her intended destination.

"I had to..." she stammered slightly, avoiding eye contact. "Get some books... there's a library cafe nearby. Can we stop by?" she lied. My eyes caught the blatant untruth; there was much for the girl to learn.

Nodding, I encouraged her, "Sure, just input the coordinates into the information system."

Slowly, her fingers fidgeted with the touch screen as she input the coordinates for "Lingua Libra," located just 1 mile ahead. I took note and drove towards this new destination. I had observed the girl's searches for this place, strategically positioned between her college and the house. Additionally, the cafe-library had a part-time job opening. For her safety, I had conducted my own research on the establishment, and my intel suggested that the place was reputable.

Situated in a reliable location, the library cafe was owned by a retired elementary school teacher named Carlos Martinez, aged 45. My investigation revealed no current criminal records, and he had been a Mexican immigrant in the country for twenty-eight years. Having dedicated his life to teaching immigrant kids, his wife had tragically passed away six years ago due to a drunk driving accident. Since then, he had devoted his life to something they both loved: food and books. The place seemed well-suited to Nari, aligning with her keen interests. The pay was good, and the elderly man was reputed to be considerate and well-behaved.

Regarding his staff, most were immigrants themselves or former individuals with criminal records who had remained off the police radar for years. The establishment appeared clean but not overly so, a positive sign indicating authenticity.

Turning on the indicator, I changed lanes to exit at the intersection, parking the car in front of the "Lingua Libra" logo. After killing the engine, I observed the girl hopping out. Sliding out myself, I went to the passenger seat to retrieve her crutches. A ding on the doorbell, and we were greeted by "Rosela Todd," the front door worker. If Nari were to work here, this girl had high chances of being her closest co-worker.

Similar to Nari, Rosela was a student at TechNova Engineering Institute, studying robotics and AI. As she greeted us, a flash of blush rose in her cheeks when her eyes met mine. Flashing her an appreciative smile, I thanked her as we walked in, earning a skeptical look from Nari.

Gruffly, Nari walked ahead of me, one hand slipped into mine, clenched around what I anticipated was her job application. The store was divided into two sections. The first, right in front of the entrance, was established as the library. Patrons had the option to turn right from the entrance, either to explore the library or proceed to the cafe section, where they could read their borrowed or purchased books.

I observed Nari's fingers skimming through titles, a bubble of nervousness palpable in the air around her. It was evident she was stalling as her gaze repeatedly traveled to the door that displayed "Manager."

Sighing, I came beside her and whispered, "You can stand here for hours, staring at the door, maybe hoping some poor fool would notice and approach you, but it's highly likely that won't happen. Or," I continued, looking directly at her as I watched her eyes widen, "you can go like the overqualified and confident young lady that you are and approach the situation yourself." I shrugged, observing her gaping like a fish. Walking away from her, I went to skim my own fingers over some books that caught my interest.

Sure enough, after what seemed like a long bout of mental self-encouragement, I saw her gathering her courage and walking to the door, knocking on it. Giving her one last glance, I nodded at her newfound confidence, and she slipped inside.

A proud smile blooms on my lips as I peek at my wristwatch. "Fifteen minutes, that's it. If she's not out by then, I'm going in," I think, making a mental note of the time—11:49 am. I station myself near the door on the stairs that lead to the storage right next to the manager's door. This obviously earns me some glares from the staff in both sections, but I'm not in an approachable mood, as clearly visible by my features.

One man, "Antonio Rodriguez," has the gall to approach me. His demeanor, oppressive and dominating, doesn't intimidate me at all as I lazily watch him approach, calculating ways to defuse him in case he poses a potential threat. The man has had numerous encounters with the authorities previously, making him an easy target to claim any possible confrontation as "self-defense."

The door abruptly opened before we could reach that point, and I watched a bubbly Nari emerge, her head bowing in appreciation as she repeated, "Thank you." As her gaze met mine, she hopped towards me, her curls bouncing around her, and she chimed happily, "Alexie, I got the job!"

My eyes widened; I hated the way my name rolled off others' tongues. The name, specifically bestowed upon me by my ever-enduring mother on her deathbed, held a special meaning carved into my soul by my father. So whenever those I dealt with said it so easily, I won't lie that I didn't have the urge to snap a knife through their vocal cords. However, when she said it, it sounded like the angels themselves were calling me. I knew she had built a steel of courage, and I had built a dam of confidence in her heart for her to reach this level of casualness with me. A snippet of thought in my mischievous heart wondered, "If it sounds so good casually, I wonder how it will sound when she screams it in pleasure."

Snapping my mischievous thought, I intently focused on the old man walking out from the office. Nari introduced us, "Mr. Martinez, this is my guardian, Alexie Ivanov, and Alexie, this is Carlos Martinez, the store owner and manager." Despite knowing that, I pretended to meet him for the first time and extended my hand in a diplomatic manner. My leather-clad palm met his in a handshake as I said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Martinez, and I hope," tightening my hold on the wrinkled hand, "you take care of my Nariya." A flash of recognition crossed the man's features for a second as he returned my masked smile with a genuine one. "I sure will!"

After taking care of the formalities, we exited the store. Nari's shift would start after her exams were over and her injured leg had completely healed.