Chapter Five
“So how was it?” Britte asked from behind me.
“You’re late,” I whirled around with my arms full of plastic menus all shiny and clean from the the rag that was now tucked into the pocket of my hostess apron.
She shushed me with a meaningful glare and a quick glance around for our manager Ty. “I fell asleep on top of my laptop while writing a paper. Do I still have the imprint of the keyboard on my face?” She turned her head and sure enough there were faint little red boxes where her cheek had been smooshed against her keyboard. They went from chin to temple and broke up her flawless, tanned complexion with cute little reminders she was up way too late last night finishing homework.
“This isn’t some weird euphemism for sex is it?” I asked with a sly glance. “Did you finally hook up with your chem partner?”
She snorted and rubbed at her cheek again. “I wish.”
Britte reached behind me for the apron she kept stashed in the hostess stand. After we met last orientation and decided to become lifelong besties…. well after we decided we couldn’t be separated and the likelihood we would never find anyone we could tolerate better became clear…. we both applied for a job at Baileys, an Applebees type establishment with a happy hour designed for college students and a healthy kids menu that kept family’s coming back to the downtown restaurant. It wasn’t too far from school, and most of the employees were fellow students. Ty, our manager, worked easily around our school schedule and was really nice about last minute days off. It didn’t pay anything and tips were average on the best of days, but I got to work with Britte, my brothers avoided the place and there was a small hope that once I turned twenty-one in a month, I would be promoted from hostess to server and my take-home paycheck would drastically improve.
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?
