Chapter 4
My mouth fell open. "Brittney's taking my job? Here?"
"Yeah, sorry." Josie gave me a sympathetic look. "Freddie the cook heard them talking out back. Apparently, she starts next week. As soon as she's trained, you're outta here."
"That jerk!" I glanced across the dining room. I spotted Keith lounging against the hostess stand. When he saw me looking, he gave me a slow, toothy smile.
A sick feeling settled into my stomach.
But this didn't make any sense. I had that photo of him, with Brittney too. He couldn’t fire me. Not anymore. Josie's information had to be outdated. Right?
"So anyway," Josie said, "it's gonna take a lot more than the flu to save you this time."
Shit. She was right. Even if by some miracle, I was able to keep my job, I'd be working alongside the bimbo from hell. And that bimbo happened to be sleeping – or whatever – with my boss.
I felt like screaming. That was the best-case scenario. Worst case, I'd be gone. And she'd be taking my place. It wasn't like this was my dream job or anything, but until I found something better, this was the closest thing I had.
I was having a hard time catching my breath. Would Brittney be taking my place elsewhere too? In Lawton's bed? They'd been intimate before. With me out of the picture, would Brittney slide back in? I made a sound of disgust. More accurately, he'd be sliding back into her.
I squared my shoulders. Fine. Brittney could have him. In fact, they deserved each other. Totally.
So why did I feel like throwing up? An ugly image slithered into my brain. Lawton and Brittney, naked, together. I choked back a wave of nausea.
If I was lucky, it was just the volcanic flu.
"I'm really sorry," Josie was saying.
I gripped the counter. "Yeah, well, I'm not gone yet," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "And besides, if I had a dollar for every time I was supposed to be fired, I'd probably own this place."
"Well, you have been on a roll lately," she said.
I blinked hard as I stared down at the pathetic sundaes. Some might call it a roll. I'd call it a giant suck-fest of bad luck and worse choices. When I reached for the spoons, my hand was shaking. Was Keith going back on our deal? So soon?
"That a*shole," I muttered.
"Yeah," Josie said, glancing toward Keith. "He really does hate you, doesn't he?"
Well, if he didn't hate me before, he definitely did now.
I'd learned a few things tonight. One, it's hard for a guy to chase you when he's not wearing pants. Two, it's not any easier for a groupie in stiletto shoes. And three, I wasn't above blackmail when push came to shove.
In the end, Brittney broke a heel, Keith broke down and said I could keep my job, and as for me, I broke a nail hanging onto that cell phone like my life depended on it.
In a way, it did. One lost paycheck, and I'd be back on my Dad's basement couch, sucking up the smell of sour milk while the rest of the household slept on therapeutic mattresses with Egyptian sheets.
While dodging Brittney in the parking lot, I'd miraculously managed to text that picture to my best friend, Erika for safe-keeping. Two copies were better than one, right?
I should be ashamed of myself.
Except I wasn't.
Still, something was definitely off. In the parking lot, Keith had been panicked, scared even. I snuck a quick glance across the dining room. Now, he looked ready to strike. Something was very wrong. I turned back to Josie.
At the look on her face, I stopped short. She was studying my sundaes with an odd, vacant expression. I followed her gaze, and stifled a gasp. One of my bracelets had shifted forward, exposing the raw, angry skin for the whole world to see.
I looked up. Slowly, her eyes met mine.
Her voice was quiet. "What's that?"
I shoved the bracelet back in place. "Nothing." I felt my eyes water, just a little. Damn it. I gave a quick shake of my head. I wasn't going to do this. Not now.
I summoned up what I hoped was a smile. "Weird cooking accident." I gave a quick wave of my hand. "Long story, you don't want to know."
"Oh." She frowned. "Okay. Well, if you ever want to talk--"
"I don't. But thanks."
I picked up the tray too fast. The sundaes wobbled dangerously, clinking and slopping globs of fudge over the sides. This was just great. They now looked nothing like their menu picture. Talk about a mess. Me and the sundaes.
Before Josie could say anything else, I turned and plunged into the dining area.
On autopilot, I made my way through the maze of tables and booths. Cooking accident? Seriously? Was that really the best I could do? Maybe I was a ditz.
Silently I delivered the sundaes. No sass. No attitude. Probably no tip either. Leaving the table, my breath was coming too short and too fast. I tossed the empty tray on a dirty table and ducked into the crowded ladies room.
I dove for the farthest stall and locked the door behind me. I leaned against the cool tile wall and closed my eyes. I had three hours left. Damn it. I so needed the money. If I were smart, I'd make every hour count.
I wouldn't think about Keith. And I definitely wouldn’t think about Lawton.
It was Lawton's fault I'd been late for work. And it was his fault that Brittney was out to get me. Finally, it was his fault that I was having a hard time holding it together.
He'd stolen my heart, and then smashed it to pieces.
That f*cker.
I wrapped my arms tight around myself and made a solemn vow. For the rest of my shift, I wouldn't think about anything except my job, and making up for lost time.
I could do this. I had to do this. I took several deep breaths and thought happy thoughts – the feel of sunshine on a warm, spring day, the smell of an open campfire, the sound of Lawton screaming as I whacked him with a baseball bat.
In real life, I'm not prone to violence. And the odds of Lawton actually screaming were slim at best. But hey, they're called fantasies for a reason. When I ditched the bat for a tire iron, the screaming seemed a lot more genuine.
Ten minutes later, I left the stall just as shaky, but a lot more determined. Miraculously, the restroom had emptied, giving me more privacy than I had any right to expect.
I stood alone in front of the long mirror and made myself smile. It felt fake and foreign, and no matter how hard I tried, it never did quite reach my eyes.
But a stranger wouldn't know the difference, right? Besides, I didn't have to be cheerful, not exactly. I only had to be entertaining.
For once, I thanked Heaven and Earth that this wasn't your average waitressing job. If I had to be perky right about now, I'm pretty sure I'd end up killing someone.
With that stiff smile plastered in place, I left the restroom, grabbed a fresh tray from the waitress stand, and hustled to my next table. With an overblown sigh, I plopped down into an empty chair.
"So, how's the food here?" I asked. "Anyone got a menu?" I looked around. "I'm totally starving." I glanced at the woman's purse. "Hey, got anything to eat in there? Gum? Chocolate?" I leaned closer. "A pizza?"
This time, my intro was technically true. I really was starving. How many hours had it been since I'd eaten, anyway?
But the couple laughed, and eventually I took their order. Soon I was delivering their drinks. After that, it got a little easier. It got easier still when Keith disappeared into his office in the back. If I were lucky, I wouldn’t see that weasel – or his squid – for the rest of the night.
An hour later, I was finally getting into a groove. The place was swamped with the after-bar crowd, which was probably all for the best. Running from table to table and juggling too many things to count, I could almost forget my life was a walking disaster zone.
But then, Keith made his first move.