"No worries." She holds up a bag. "We brought lunch. And..." She moves aside so her boyfriend can step beside her. "Cake!"
"Why do you have cake?" I shove my hair out of my face. "It's not my birthday."
"To celebrate you working at the bar again. Not to mention your promotion."
Word travels fast. "It barely happened a few hours ago. How do you already know?"
"Please," she waves my question away. "I knew before they even met with you this morning. They asked me if I thought you'd be interested."
That figures. Ugh, I forgot how uncomfortable it is sleeping on this sofa. My feet hit the ground with a thud and I stand, stretching my arms over my head.
"How did you know I'd say yes?"
"You like a challenge. I had no doubt you'd accept." She starts toward the small kitchen. "Now come eat lunch so we can cut into this cake."
She never ceases to amaze me. She makes the biggest deal out of the smallest things. I'm pretty sure this is something her parents did for her and Devin.
Jealousy slices through me. I never had that. Hell, I barely had any sort of acknowledgement for my birthday. I never knew my dad, and my mom treated me like a nuisance more than a child. But Delilah isn't my mom. She cares fiercely about her friends, and I'm lucky to call her one of mine.
I join them in the kitchen and pull out a chair. The cake is one that is already made in the store. You just grab it and go. It must be fate because it's my favorite, red velvet.
Bryce pulls containers out of the bag, checking the contents before setting it in front of us.
I pop open the container and my favorite pasta is inside. "Thank you both so much."
"Hold on," Bryce says. "That's not all."
He pulls a smaller container out of the bag and opens it before giving it to me. Its fries covered in cheese, bacon, and jalapeños. One of my all-time favorite appetizers. "You really didn't have to do all this."
"Nonsense," Delilah scoffs. "It's not every day your best friend comes home and gets a job. I want to do this for you."
She is the reason I have faith in people. "Thank you so much."
"Anytime." She takes a bite of her chicken strips. "So, when do you start?"
"Tomorrow afternoon." I say between bites. "I'll still be working the host stand, and filling in wherever they need me, until I'm certified to serve."
"Awesome. We'll at least be working together for a bit." She finishes her lunch and closes the container. "You better get your rest tonight."
"Why is that?" I know the bar was busy last night, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle.
"Because it gets bananas when we have live music."
I almost forgot about that aspect. Curiosity pokes out its head about who the band will be. I'm not going to ask, though. Hopefully, it's a new artist I can get hooked on.
4
Devin
This isthe first night I'll be performing at Out of the Ashes on a regular basis. If I'm being honest, I'm scared. I know most of the town showed up for the New Year's Eve bash. They applauded me and kept me going. But let's be honest, everyone was having a good time. I'm sure anyone would have gotten a standing ovation. Tonight, though...that could make or break how I continue this journey.
I park on the side of the building. Ideally, I'd walk through the front door. Not tonight. The back door in the alley is the direction my feet lead me. If the crowd in there hates me, I'll have a quick escape. Hopefully I won't need that. My hand on is on the handle, but it doesn't budge when I push it down. It's locked. Of course, it is. I'm not sure if this is Eric's idea of a joke, or if Angie forgot to let him know it needed to be unlocked. Either way...I'm not amused.
Setting my guitar case on the dirty pavement, I grab my phone from my back pocket. I unlock it and go directly to my messages. Maybe if I text Angie, she'll get this sorted out. My fingers hover over the screen. No. I'm not going to complain to her about this minor inconvenience. It's not like I'm some huge start and can demand things.
Let's be real, this is about me being scared to perform on my own for an entire night. Normally I have friends with me, playing their instruments, but they can't do Friday nights for various reasons. I can't fault them for that. It was my decision to play on my own tonight. And that is why I'm nervous. There aren't any drums or other guitars to back me up.
It's just me, my acoustic guitar, a stool, and a microphone. If I want to do this as a career, I need to get over myself and walk inside. I can do this.
