Chapter 5
I was at the waitress station, processing a credit card payment when Keith emerged from the back office. "Alright," he announced, "time to send one of you girls home."
Next to me, Josie's jaw dropped. Mine too. Outside, the line was scary long. Inside, every table was taken, either with actual customers or stacks of dirty dishes as the lone busboy struggled to keep up.
"What?" I stared at him. "Why?"
"Because we're overstaffed, that's why."
"You've got to be kidding," I said.
His gaze narrowed. "You think I'm out here for the fun of it, is that it?"
I snorted. "I'm surprised you're out here at all."
"Hey!" he said. "You wanna compare jobs?" He looked down at my skimpy uniform. "Well mine's a little harder than dropping off food and shaking my ass."
As someone who'd actually seen his ass, I sincerely hoped he wouldn't be shaking that thing at anyone.
Next to me, Josie pointed toward the dining area. "But we're totally slammed," she said. "Look at this place."
He gave the dining room a cursory glance. "Not according to sales figures," he said. "Do I need to remind you girls? It's calculated by receipts, not customers."
I glared at him. "So?"
"So," he said, "if you wanna justify the manpower –" he smirked "– or should I say girl power, then maybe you should work a little harder at suggestive selling, huh? "
"Hey!" Josie said. "I suggest the shit out of stuff."
His jaw clenched. "What'd you just say to me?"
Josie rolled her eyes. "Fine. Crap. I suggest the crap out of stuff. It's not my fault if people don't go for it."
"Yeah," I said. "And besides, we can barely keep up as it is."
He turned to smile at me. "Then you'll be happy to know that you're the girl who's going home."
My mouth fell open. "What? Me? But I just got here."
Was this his way of firing me without firing me? I'd dealt with him before. Agreement or not, he always found a loophole.
I felt my jaw clench. I still had that photo of him with Brittney. Maybe I needed to find a loophole, too, like a billboard off I-75.
Next to me, Josie spoke up. "Alright. Fine. Whatever. But if someone needs to go home—"
"It'll be Chloe," Keith snapped. "Not you."
Josie was glaring at him now too. "I was going to say Sonya."
"Oh, so you're making these decisions now?" Keith said. "Last time I checked, I was the manager, not you."
"But have you seen Sonya?" Josie said. "She's not looking too good."
"Nice try," Keith said, "but I think your little friend can speak for herself."
"What little friend?" I asked. "Me? Or Sonya?"
"Doesn't matter," he said. "You're the one leaving. First in, first out. Just like the manual says."
"But I was here last," I said.
"Only because you were late."
"But Sonya's been here since noon."
"That's the day shift," he said. "Not my problem."
"But—"
"No buts. You," he said, pointing at me. "I'm clocking you out as of now." He pointed at Josie. "You. Cover her tables."
Josie gave him a desperate look. "But I can't even cover my own."
"Again, not my problem," he said.
"Hey," I said, "You can clock me out all you want, but I'm staying 'til my tables are finished."
"Why? So you can turn around and sue the restaurant later?" he said. "Tell them how I forced you to work for free?" He puffed out his chest. "Not gonna happen. Not on my watch."
And with that, he turned and stalked back toward his office.
I stared after him. "So he's gonna clock me out?" I said. "Is that even legal?"
Josie rolled her eyes. "I dunno. Check the f*cking employee manual. God, what a turd." She picked up her tray and turned toward the dining area. I watched her go. And that's when I saw them.
The flashing red and blue of police lights.