Although I would probably die before I admitted that to him.
“Is this the dream job, then?” Mark asked after he’d just finished telling us about his life—his new corporate job and the upcoming adoption of his son.
I felt a little flustered. He was fifteen years older than me, but his life was so different from when I’d known him at Mickey’s. April’s too. She’d returned to school for her teaching degree and had just finished her third year as a full-time tenth-grade science teacher.
“It’s the dream job for right now,” I told them, resurrecting some of my walls. “I love being the GM. And I love this place specifically. But I’d also like not to live paycheck to paycheck. So we’ll see.”
Mark leaned in. “Honey, I’m going to tell you a secret about being an adult.” He dropped his voice like he was giving away something truly juicy. “Doesn’t matter how much you make, all us middle-class folks are living paycheck to paycheck.”
“Don’t tell me that,” I groaned. “I want to believe there’s a way for me to make enough money to pay rent, buy groceries, and spend my money frivolously. Maybe not all the time. But enough times that I stop thinking that spending money frivolously is the be-all and end-all of the human existence.”
Mark sighed. “Fine, I’ll keep my conspiracy theories and why I believe the government hates the middle class to myself.”
“Thank you,” I said primly.
“I imagine being GM of this place must mean you’re not looking for more work,” April said with a smile.Little did she know.
“Life’s definitely full here, but why do you ask?”
“Because I still waitress over the summer, and we could use some part-time help if you’re interested. Hours are a little wonky, but you can usually count on something like eleven to three.”
“That would actually be perfect,” I decided. I could still get enough hours of sleep after the bar closed and get off work just in time to haul my ass over here. “What’s the name of the place you work at?”
“Salt,” April said. “It hasn’t been open that long, but it’s seriously one of the best places I’ve ever eaten. And the atmosphere is so cool. You’ll love it. Plus, the owners are lovely.”
“Oh, I know that place. I actually kind of know the Quinns. My boss is friends with them, so I’ve been to a couple of things with them.” I liked this idea more and more. It was one thing to sign onto another Mickey’s experience, but I would happily work for Vera and Killian Quinn. Not only were they some of the best chefs in the country but they were also very nice people.
“I’ll text you the application link,” April promised.
“Thank you,” I said, meaning it. Would it be fun to work two jobs just to make ends meet? No. Would I do it anyway until I figured out a better solution? Yes. At least until the English siblings could pay me more.
We hung out for a bit longer, then they paid their bill—which was miraculously half of what they actually owed, thanks to Charlie—and took off with promises to keep in touch better. I doubted we would connect beyond the job link text, but I was happy to run into them occasionally.
We’d had a great time at Mickey’s, but they were old enough to be my parents. And their friendship bond was the kind that kept other people at a distance.
I sat at the bar, finishing my drink and mentally rearranging my life to accommodate another work schedule, when Charlie leaned across the bar and slid me another cocktail.
“Hey, thanks for taking care of my friends—”
“No,” he said sternly.
I had been in a bubbly, happy mood until his attitude showed up. What in the world? “Excuse me?”
“Ada, are you seriously thinking about taking another job?”
Had he been listening to our entire conversation? “And what business would it be of yours if I was?”
His eyes glinted dangerously, and a muscle in his jaw ticked. “You’re here all the time. You don’t have time to work anywhere else.” He inhaled slowly as if he was trying to collect himself. “I thought you were demanding a raise from us?”
“Charlie, there’s no guarantee I’m going to get one. And if I do, I don’t know if it’s going to be enough. I have to plan—”
“So fight for it to be enough, Ada. You have us by the balls. Why don’t you see that? We can’t function without you. Of course Will is going to give you what you want.”
The need to play defense crept up the back of my neck, and suddenly, I felt uncomfortably warm. “You don’t know that. You’re only guessing. I can’t just hope it all comes together, Charlie. I’ve got to take care of myself. I’m on my own.”
“No, you aren’t,” he argued without missing a beat. “Who told you that, Ada? Why do you always feel as though the rules are different for you? You take care of everyone else, but don’t let anyone stand up for you. Why is no one else allowed to take care of you?”
His question knocked the wind out of my sails. It was like conversation whiplash. “What?”
