Authors: Rachel Higginson
Just in time to sign every last cent of it over to Fin.
“Are we closing together?” Britte asked sounding as hopeful as I would if I were in her position.
“Nope, sorry. I have dinner tonight with the fam.”
She groaned, throwing her head back dramatically.
“That’s exactly how I feel,” I grumbled. “Everyone’s going to be there tonight. It’s a welcome home dinner for Lennox. I would much rather be closing here with you.”
“No you wouldn’t,” she laughed. “You love your family.”
I made a noncommittal sound and she pushed my shoulder.
“Fine, let’s trade places. I’ll go eat dinner with all three of your lickalicious brothers, and you stay and close for me with….” she checked the time sheet that was taped to the inside of the hostess stand and then whined, “Creep-O Steve-O?”
I laughed at her nickname for the flirtatious high school student that was convinced he could get any girl he wanted whenever he wanted. He was cute enough for a seventeen year old Star Wars nerd that still had his mom drop him off at work, but still definitely a creeper.
“Lickalicious? B, that’s so gross.”
“But so true,” she winked at me. “But seriously, I have no patience to deal with horny high schoolers tonight. If he pulls out his wallet condom again and offers to give me a lesson in how to please a man, you owe me a million dollars!”
“I’m kind of already in the hole, so how about an ice cream cone from McDonalds?” I countered.
“Fine, deal,” she rolled her eyes at me. “But no pocket change. If you’re buying me ice cream, I want to be treated like a real lady with dollar bills and everything.”
“You’re so crazy,” I laughed at her.
“Ladies,” Ty’s condescending voice demanded from one of the server stations a few feet away. Ty was once a sergeant in the army and even in his late thirties still sported his bulky muscles, crew cut and preference to shouting commands over polite suggestions. He was gentle at heart, or at least we chose to believe that, but mainly he ran this restaurant like a battalion. We both whirled around to face our tanned, god-of-a-man-but-way-too-old-for-us manager. “Enough fraternizing. Get to work.”
He scowled at us, clearly meaning business. We just smiled back and at the same time he did, we chimed in with “Those tables aren’t going to bus themselves,” in our best and most sarcastic tough-guy voice.
Which of course only earned us another scowl. Britte and I were definitely rule followers. She maybe not as much as me, but being pre-med still made her driven and focused. And I was worse than her with my devotion to doing everything by the rules. Unless we were together. Then even Ty, the military-man couldn’t scare us.
Still, we separated, giggling and shooting each other laughing glances every chance we got.
Once I got to work my thoughts started drifting, and I was disturbed by their direction. On the forefront of every thought train was Fin and my stupid near kiss, mine because if there was any kissing involved it was obviously going to be one-sided. Or Fin and how adamantly he hated Colton, even though he was probably just a good guy that hated how bad guys gave only-marginally-bad guys like him a bad/worse name. Or something, not that I overthought it at all.
My thoughts also flowed to the seven people I was investigating for Fin’s upcoming game. Out of ten I already ruled out three, deeming them untrustworthy and lazy. Lazy people didn’t pay out debts because lazy people rarely had jobs to give them money. They also didn’t win very often, or that’s what Fin said.
I was unwillingly flattered by that statement since he apparently hadn’t thought I was lazy when he let my identity-thieving roommate enter his game. I actually learned he had rather a high opinion of me to let me in one of his bigger games. While most of the games that went on constantly under his aggressive supervision were played for small amounts, the winners coming out with only a couple hundred bucks at best, he held higher stakes tournaments every two months. It was in one of the bigger games that Tara lost all the money.
Apparently the most money ever lost in one of his games.
Why wouldn’t it happen to me?
I was really worried about the winner of the game, after he explained to me that usually transactions are made online, but I/Tara closed my/her account immediately following my/her colossal loss, therefore leaving the winner high and dry.
And even though Fin promised me the winner technically had no idea who I was, since the game survived because of its anonymity, I had still been worried. One super scary man coming to my door was enough. What if the next guy wasn’t as nice as Fin?
And that was assuming I could call Fin “nice.”
But then he told me that the money went through him, so he already paid the winner and the money was actually due him, outright.
Which somehow made me feel worse for the debt. Even though it wasn’t mine to owe. I felt all itchy and uncomfortable thinking about Fin paying all that money when he might not ever get paid back. Especially from me.
“That bad huh?” Britte asked from the other side of an empty table. She pushed in the chairs I was neglecting and righted the salt and pepper shaker, double checking the lids for pranks we deemed outdated, but the general middle school population still found hilarious.
“What do you mean?” I looked up at her so jealous that even flushed from busing tables and in her greasy black polo uniform she was gorgeous and poised. The dull black of the Bailey’s uniform only seemed to intensify the shiny glow of her glossy hair. Today her eyeliner was neon green and only worked to set off her bright emerald eyes. I loved her, she was my best friend. But honestly, how pretty she was just didn’t seem fair to the rest of us mere mortals.
“Fin Hunter,” she whispered dramatically. “You’ve been staring at the same spot on this table for six entire minutes. Your face is all puckered and your eyebrows are actually pointing downward. Was he mean to you?”
“No, he wasn’t mean,” I admitted even while I wondered why he wasn’t.
“Did he really expect sexual favors?” Britte gasped. “Because I will castrate him if he did. Or not, if you um, liked them.”
I blushed. “Britte!”
“So, that’s a no then. Just as frustrated as always?” She gave me a smirk and moved on to the next table forcing me to follow her so I could defend myself.
“He really just made me work for him. Nothing weird happened.” Except I almost attacked his mouth with my mouth. But even to my best friend I couldn’t admit that out loud.
“So what does that mean?” she pressed.
“Mostly he has me research potential gamblers. I have to make sure their credible just in time for them to destroy their credit. It’s complicated, you wouldn’t understand,” I explained dryly.
“Oooh,” she gushed. “So you get to spy on them? Are they all people we know?”
“Or have heard of.”
Britte made a squeal of delight, or intrigue since this whole fiasco was feeding her gossip obsession too. “I need names.”
“No way,” I shook my head. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
“Yes, fine. But those things never include best friends. And it turns out that I am your best friend. You must include me.”
“Seriously, B, I can’t. You know at least half of these people, or have heard of them. And Fin would kill me if I told. Well, first he will kill me for the money I never intend on paying him back and then he’ll raise me from the dead, just in time to kill me again. I can’t do it. I value my life too much. Or my…. reincarnated sEcond life too much.”
Britte paused to think that over and with a curt nod of her head, turned back over her shoulder to say, “I understand that.”
“Oh, good,” surprised by her easy concession I went back to work.
“I understand that you can’t tell me their names. But if I guess them, that’s a whole new thing, right?” she smirked at me and then skipped, yes literally skipped, off to gather menus from the different server stations.
I stared after her until Ty shouted from across the room for me to get back to work. Really, I was not this negligent of an employee, but today did not seem to be my day. Although the same could have been said about this week…. month…. year.
Gah! Stop feeling sorry for yourself.
I wandered back to the host stand to greet an elderly couple. They were holding hands and smiling at each other and I had to physically hold back the “aw” I wanted to sigh. I took them to their seat wondering about that kind of love. My parents seemed to be in love, although they could be intense at times. This couple seemed to be the llifelong-googly-eyed kind of love and who knew how long they had put up with each other.
A pit of despair settled in my stomach and I couldn’t understand it. I wasn’t exactly on the hunt for love, or for a relationship. My last boyfriend ended in disaster and maybe Fin was right, maybe there wasn’t even a future for us if he hadn’t been the cheating bastard he turned out to be.
So why did I hold on to him for three years?
I didn’t feel desperate, or needy or clingy…. But could those words be used to describe me if I stayed in an unhealthy relationship for that long?
And with someone as skeevy as Colton?
Back at the host stand I threw my head dramatically into the crook of my elbow and leaned down on the high podium to groan against my skin.
“Was I pathetic to stay with Colton for so long?” I winced out loud when I felt another presence looming over me.
“Nah girl, Colton’s a fine piece of man. But a playa has needs, you hear? Although, you with me, and I would forever be faithful. Word?”
Oh no. Not Britte. Creep-O Steve-O.
He peered at me from under a mess of shaggy blonde hair that was supposed to be stylish but somehow managed to look frizzy and greasy at the same time. His face was be-pimpled from his love affair with mountain dew and energy drinks and his skinny little body was more starving child than muscular man. He had a smattering of freckles across the high plains of his face that would one day, one day far, far, far in the future, be one of his most attractive features, and he had lips that again, would one day be fantastic. But as of right now were pursed and provocative and just gross.
“Steve, that was meant for Britte,” I whispered, too mortified to explain further.
“Mmm, I figured. But I also figured I had some sage advice for you, woman,” Steve looked over me, his eyes trailing from my head to my waist, and back up; a signature move that earned him his nickname.
“Real sage,” I drawled.
“You heed that now,” he winked at me.
I shuddered.
“And let me offer my services yet again if you continue to feel down on yourself.” His smile turned lascivious before he added, “Give me five minutes, I can make you feel the opposite of pathetic.”
“Oh, god,” I gasped. “You’re seventeen.”
“But my soul is old.” He took a step forward, resting his palms on the host stand and bouncing up and down.
“Ty!”
I shouted, panicked and amused all at the same time. “Ty! Stevie is hitting on me again!”
Steve took a fast step back and shot me a killing glance. I tucked in my lips to hide my
triumphant smile but when Ty came storming over immediately I couldn’t stop myself from grinning.
“Steve, do you want to do dishes tonight?” Ty demanded in a voice that reminded me of a drill sergeant.