Authors: Britni Danielle
When it was time for my break, I retreated to the back room and grabbed my phone out of my locker. Usually, I kept it in my apron, but I was so in a rush after Scout dropped me off that I just threw everything in my locker and ran to check my assignment for the night. I pulled my phone out to scroll through Facebook and see if I had any text messages, and thankfully there was one from Scout.
“What are you smiling at?” Roxy asked when she walked into the small room. “New boyfriend?”
“Huh? No…you know I don’t date. It’s just something dumb on Facebook.” I lied. Roxy was a cool girl but she had a mean streak and seemed to take pleasure in knocking people down to size whenever she had a chance. I didn’t dare tell her, or anyone besides Tara, anything.
“Umm hmm,” she hummed, and then put two fingers to her lips. “Going out for a smoke.”
I nodded then turned my attention back to Scout’s message, and my heart swelled. Even though I must have looked like a crazy woman in his car, he didn’t make me feel like an idiot or like I was losing my mind. He was so warm and encouraging, I felt like it was okay to tell him just about anything.
That feeling, the warmth in my chest, felt familiar and scary. I’d been trying to figure out why I was both drawn to Scout and frightened of him ever since we met, but as I was sitting in the locker room grinning like a fool, it hit me: He reminded me of my father.
Before he died, my dad made me feel like the most important little girl in the world. Sure he was messed up at times, but he never took it out on me. Instead we’d stay up late into the night catching blinkies and listening to The Wailers when we were in Jamaica, and when we weren’t, he’d spend hours telling me about his childhood in Kingston. On any given day we’d do about 10 different things together and I’d be so sleepy at the end of it all I’d usually drop to sleep right over my dinner plate.
One night, when I was about eight, my dad snuck into my room and woke me up to watch the sunrise over the Caribbean Sea. When I complained and told him we could see it another time my dad shook his head and said, “Tomorrow’s not promised, princess. All we have is today, that’s why it’s called the present. It’s a gift.”
That morning the sun looked like a gigantic scoop of rainbow sherbet—orange, pink, and yellow all rolled up into one glorious ball. I never looked at the sky the same way again after that, and spent the next month waking up early with my dad to watch the sun dance its way into the day.
I didn’t understand it then, but it’s like my dad knew his time was limited and he wanted to squeeze as much into it as possible. I loved every minute of my ten years with my dad, but anything or anyone that made me feel
that
alive scared the shit out of me. I knew what happened when someone you loved wrung everything out of life and called it quits, and I didn’t want to feel that alone or lost ever again.
I glanced down at my phone, realizing I never read Scout’s message.
Scout: Hey beautiful, I hope work’s going well.
Beautiful.
I loved when he called me beautiful or baby or even said my name. It was like he actually meant it, and it wasn’t just some come on to get into my pants. My break was quickly evaporating, so I hit reply.
Nola: Hey! It’s so busy and I’m over it.
Before I could slip my phone into my apron, he’d written back. Another smile blossomed on my lips, and I felt the butterflies in my stomach flap their little wings. Damn. If he could affect me this much with a text message, I couldn’t imagine how I’d react if he actually kissed me.
Scout: Need me to rescue you?
Nola: I wish.
Scout: Just say the word and I’m there.
Nola: Word. :)
Scout: Okay, I’m on my way.
Nola: Wait! No. You’re not serious, right?
Scout: Very.
Nola: Can’t leave. Want to, but can’t. Gotta finish my shift.
Scout: Leave early. Say you’re not feeling well or something.
Nola: Can’t. I’m already covering for Tara. Gotta stay. Will be ok as long as I tune out the obnoxious guys.
Scout: Obnoxious guys?
Nola: Yup. Some game is on which means drunk jerks requesting everything—even stuff not on the menu.
Scout: Like?
Nola: My number, going home with them, just stupid & annoying things. I hate working game days. Tips are lower, too.
Scout: You’re gonna make me come down there.
Nola: Why?
Scout: Get rid of the jerks.
Nola: I can handle it :) Anyway, gotta get back to work. Have a good night, Scout.
Scout: Thanks, baby. You too. Holler if you need me. I’ll come down there. Seriously.
Nola: Thank you :)
I slid my phone in my pocket and made my way back toward the dining room. Before I could get on the floor, Ross spotted me and called me into his office.
“What are you grinning about?” he asked.
“What? I’m not grinning.”
“Your mouth says otherwise,” he said, motioning for me to sit down.
I certainly knew why I was smiling. but I wasn’t about to tell Ross that. Like most people at work, I held him at arm’s length, keeping our conversations short and solely about the job. Plus, Ross was a little creepy. A lot of the girls complained that he’d find ways to “accidently” bump into them while they picked up orders from the kitchen, and he’d even been stupid enough to ask a few out. Ross had never tried anything with me, but I caught him gawking at me a few times and licking his thin lips in a way that meant they weren’t just dry. However, as long as he never actually touched me I tried not to think too hard about it.
“I need you to pull two doubles this weekend,” Ross said, running his tongue over his lower lip.
I wanted to gag, but I kept my disgust in check. “Normally I’d be all over it, but I can’t, Ross.“
“Big plans?” he asked, leaning forward on his elbows. I noticed his eyes travel to my chest, so I crossed my arms to block his view.
“No. I have a
huge
paper due next week, so I can’t take the extra shifts this time.“
He waved me off. “Sorry to hear that, Nola, but I wasn’t asking.”
“Wait, what?” I looked at him like he was crazy. “You can’t just make me work a double shift two days in a row, Ross. I’m pretty sure that’s against the law.”
A smirk crossed his lips and he shrugged. “Maybe, but no one else can take them. Besides, you’re always on my ass about giving you more hours, so you’re on. You’ll be working from Noon to 12 on Saturday
and
Sunday. Don’t be late.”
He scooted over to his computer, began typing, and ignored me. It was clear he thought our chat was over and he wanted me to leave, but there was no way I could pull two double shifts
and
get my paper done. I could use the extra money, but I needed to pass Professor St. James’ class even more.
“Ross, you know I would totally work the whole thing if I could, but I
really
need to get an A on this paper and I don’t have a lot of time to work on it. If I don’t pass this class I’ll lose my partial scholarship, and—“
He held up his hand again, quieting me. “Nola. I understand you’re between a rock and hard place, but so am I.”
“Maybe Roxy can—“
He knitted his brows and drew his lips into a tight line. “Not a chance.”
“Okay, maybe Nancy? Or Janie? Or Isabella? Or—”
“Look, you’re in a jam. I get it, so am I. But you’re working, and that’s that.”
“But I can’t,” I shrieked, louder than I wanted, causing his head to jerk toward me. I swallowed hard and softened my tone. “I mean, I was planning to spend the weekend researching and—“
“Listen Nola. You’re already on thin ice with the lateness and the backtalk.”
“Backtalk? What do you even mean?”
He gestured toward me. “This…this attitude. You may get away with it with your little college boyfriends, but you can’t have it your way around here.”
My eyes grew wide. “My what?”
“You heard me,” he glared at me, like I was some kind of insufferable fool.
“This isn’t fair. Ross!” my voice rose again. “I always work my shifts and I never take a day off or anything. I just can’t work any extra hours this weekend.”
“You mean you won’t. You
can
, but you won’t. Correct?”
“Yes. I mean, no,” I stammered. “It’s not like that. I have to work on this paper, or else—”
“I sympathize with you, I do. But if you’re not here at noon on Saturday don’t bother coming in at all. I’m sick of bending over backward for you, Nola.”
I gasped. “What?”
Ross had clearly lost his mind. I had never asked him for any special favors, never complained, and certainly didn’t require any special accommodations. Excusing the times I was five or ten minutes late certainly could not be described as “bending over backward,” especially when I usually stayed way past my shift was over just to help out. It was official; he’d lost it.
“You heard me,” he said. “You think you can waltz in here whenever you want…”
“Whenever I want? You make it sound like I’m late everyday. Sure, I’ve been a few minutes behind a few times, but it’s not because I don’t care. I take the bus, Ross. You know that.”
“And?”
“And I don’t ‘waltz in,’” I said using air quotes. “I run in and get straight to work.”
Ross shrugged again like he was bored. “Whatever. See you at noon.”
“Ross—“
“Noon or not at all. Your choice, Nola.”
“Some damn choice,” I mumbled under my breath.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all, Ross.”
I stumbled out into the hallway and took several deep breaths. I could feel the tears gathering behind my eyes again, but refused to let Ross break me down. I’d done enough crying for one day, anyway.
I needed a plan. I had to figure out how the hell I was going to write a 20-page research paper that would wow Professor St. James
and
work
two
back-to-back double shifts.
Just thinking about what I was up against felt impossible; I needed some reassurance I could actually pull it off. I fished my phone out of my pocket and fired off a quick text to Scout.
Nola: Still down to help me with my paper?
Before I could slip it back into my apron he’d replied.
Scout: Yup, I’ll bring the coffee.
Nola: Good! But we’re going to need something a lot stronger than coffee.
Scout: Uh oh, what happened?
Nola: I’ll explain later, ok? Thanks, Scout :)
Scout: Anything for you, baby.
Anything, huh? I wondered if he actually meant it.
11
Scout
I checked my phone for what was probably the millionth time to see if Nola had sent me another message. Unfortunately she hadn’t. Compared to the boring-ass business dinner I had been subjected to, Nola’s texts felt like notes straight from heaven.
She had me worried, though. I knew Nola was exhausted when I dropped her off at work, but hearing she also had to take orders from drunk, obnoxious, assholes who were hoping to convince her to sleep with them made my blood boil. Nola was fucking gorgeous in a way that she didn’t even realize, and it drove me absolutely nuts. Hell, it probably drove most guys nuts, which is why I kept glancing at my phone every couple of minutes.
“Hey man, do you have somewhere you need to be?” Ethan asked from across the table. He was another tech nerd turned millionaire, but unlike me, he’d had a Waspy, middle-class childhood and dropped out of Stanford to start his first company.
“Why do you say that?”
“Dude, you’ve been looking at your phone all night. What’s up? Hooking up with that model again?”
“Who?” I asked, looking at my phone trying to decide if I should send Nola another text.
“The hot blonde you hooked up with at AREA a little while ago.”
I thought back to the night Ethan dragged me to the ultra trendy West Hollywood club. We were trying to woo a potential investor, but instead I ended up making out with a girl I’d met in VIP.
She looked like your typical L.A. girl—perfect tan, expensive dye job, pricey stilettos, and super skinny with artificially huge breasts. When Ethan introduced us I wasn’t all that interested because I had been with countless girls just like her. They were fun for a time, but about as deep as a kiddie pool and were only interested in what they could get from a guy like me. I had no plans to take her home, but when she offered to give me head in the back of my Range Rover, I didn’t turn it down.
When she was done, the girl put her number in my phone and teetered back inside the club to keep partying with her friends. I left and never called.
I shook my head, I hadn’t even thought about her until Ethan brought her up. “Nah, man, not her. Hanging with someone else. She gets off at midnight, so we need to wrap this up,” I said, stealing a look at my watch.