Audible Jobs Remote Reading Novels & Stories

She pushed the contract to me and gestured to me to read it. "Read it and if you agree to all the rules, the job is yours." She said and I looked down to the contract. I started to read it slowly and one by one. Apparently I can't say anything to anyone about my job. I can't even say what I'm working with. I can't even say a word about what I'm doing, what I'm seeing and what I heard in the ILLICIT HEADQUARTERS. I froze when I saw those two words. I looked up to my interviewer and she gave me a nod.

she said, her tone mirroring the dismissive coolness Gideon used when he shut down my attempts to talk about the bullying. She turned on her heel and left, the click of her sensible shoes sounding like a countdown. I waited until the sound faded before reopening my laptop. I didn't go back to the guest list. Instead, I opened my inbox. My heart hammered against my ribs as I saw a new message. The subject line read: Offer of Employment - Remote Research Analyst. I clicked it, my breath hitching. Dear Ms. Kline, we are pleased to offer you the position...

He stepped into the hallway near the restrooms, where the neon light flickered every few seconds. “Hello,” he said quietly. “Hey,” a man’s voice rasped on the other end. “Did you see my text?” Aiden pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, not yet. I was at work and—” “I don’t give a damn,” the voice snapped. “I sent you something. An ad. The Cranes just posted it. They’re hiring.” The words hit him like a shove to the chest. “Hiring?” “Yeah,” the man said, his tone suddenly sharp, business-cold. “They’re looking for a driver, a bodyguard, and a nanny. Three separate positions.”

I click on it and accept the job. Not having a phone or internet I use the libraries wifi to recieve the call at the dummy number I gave to the job. What I don't expect is the voice on the other end. His voice is deep and dreamy. I can't get over how much I want to jump his voice. As soon as I get over the urge to jump his voice, I clear my throat and start to talk, answering him. "I would love to accept the job." I can hear a chuckle in the background, just like his but maybe it's just an echo. "You don't even know us. Would you like to at least interview first?"

Maya read it over his shoulder, the words on the screen taking a moment to fully register even after she'd seen them plainly. Employment reference: Margaret Carter. Personal recommendation, direct sponsorship, HR file 2014-0447. "That's not distant approval," she said slowly. "That's direct. Personal."

I wasn’t even looking at job sites anymore, I was just scrolling aimlessly through old articles about books I had never read, half trying to distract myself, half trying not to think about how badly I wanted this job. suddenly a notification popped up on my G***l, I opened it and read the subject line "Offer of Employment - Marrow & Finch Publishing." At first, my brain didn’t connect the words to reality, I just stared at the screen, my eyes moving between the bold subject line and the little preview text beneath it. My heart gave one sharp, painful thud, like it was warning me not to get ahead of myself. I clicked the email, holding my breath. "Dear Ms. Ivana,

Meanwhile mine apparently had. I exhaled and looked back at the screen. School portal. Still inaccessible. Login failed. I stared at it, tried once more, got nothing, and closed it. I wasn't going to cry. Not over this. Not now. After a few seconds I opened another tab. If I couldn't study, maybe I could at least do something useful. Temporary jobs. Remote work. Internships. Anything. The search results loaded — customer service, data entry, administrative assistant — and then one listing caught my eye near the bottom.

"No. You can be my cane again. And I got our tickets online when I checked the itinerary." "You use the computer?" He mentioned that earlier but she hadn't had time to ask him about it. "Yes, all of the time. Actually, the computer is essential for my job." She led him into the entrance of the club and through a small crowding of people as he spoke. "I use a system called JAWS that reads the material for me. But most computers have an automatic text to voice program built in." "Ohhh, gotcha." "I have a little British woman that reads to me on a daily basis," he joked.

"She’s fine, Coop. Better than fine. She’s been busy. My guy flagged a fresh IP hit on a specialized corporate portal. She spent six hours yesterday blazing through an accelerated data entry certification. Then, she applied for a virtual position at CloudWorkers." "She’s looking for a job?" "She’s looking for a way to stay hidden," Gurner corrected. "Remote work means she never has to step into an office. Clever girl. Come by my office at eight on Monday morning. I’ll have the full file ready for you. Background, neighbors, the works." "I'll be there," I said, hanging up. **********

And to my amazement, I found one. I had been invited for an interview based on a recommendation. Jackpot. The job offer was exactly to my liking—remote, great pay, and plenty of incentives. Almost too good to be true. As I meticulously prepared for the interview, my mind wandered. Who had recommended me? Whoever it was had to be highly placed to put my name forward to such an outstanding company. The offer they made was top-notch. Whew. The prospect of a remote job thrilled me. It meant flexibility—being there for my kids while still working on the Conti case.