I let out a long breath. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. But if this costs me my restaurant job?—”
“I won’t charge you rent for the next six months.”
I blink. “Seriously?”
Clark chuckles.
“Deal.”
We hang up, and that’s when it hits me—this is a bigger deal than I thought. Clark isn’t a bad landlord, but he’s a stickler. Six months of rent-free living doesn’t come lightly.
“Hey, Aliana,” I say, approaching my manager. “You told me I could work every day this week.”
“I did.”
“This is actually my second shift today, and I’m scheduled for the next three days too.”
She gives me a look like I’m still in high school trying to get away with something illegal, which I’mnot. I’m just trying to go to a hockey game, apparently.
“I was an idiot and didn’t turn on my notifications for the lacrosse group chat. They have a marketing event tonight, and my captain is stressing that I’m not there already. Is there a chance I can leave now? I’ll be back tomorrow.”
She glances around the restaurant and then looks back at me. “It’s Saturday night, Burton. We have many customers already, and it’s still before the traditional rush.”
“I know. I apologize, but I rarely ask for favors. This one time and then I’ll be in for all my other shifts without complaint.” I’m shaking my clasped hands together in front of her. Then I wonder why I’m so worried about going. I could just say I can’t make it.
But that would let the team down.
Every marketing opportunity for the lacrosse club is opening our sport as a possibility for kids. Giving that visibility that some kids need for their future. To not go when asked by my captain is like betraying his trust.
I renew my pleading and give her a sad face.
After a moment, she sighs. “Fine. I’ll cover. But you’re here on every other shift.”
I clap my hands together and grin. “Thank you, boss.”
I ditch my apron, grab my things, and head out the door.
From the messages pouring in now, the guys have already left the house and are meeting at the arena. That means I’ll have to find parking in the city, but it also saves time.
I park a few blocks away in a free area and walk toward the arena, but once I get there, I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go. I call Clark again.
No answer.
I try Stack. Same thing.
“Is this some kind of prank?” I mutter, dragging a hand over my face. Not that being here is a bad thing, but I was counting on tips from the next few days to get me through the start of the season.
Clark finally calls back. “Where are you?”
“I’m in front of the arena,” I snap. “Where areyou?”
“Southeast side. Walk toward the mountains and around the building to the back entrance.”
At least he knows me well enough to understand that directions are not my forte. I need landmarks—things I can actually see—not a mental map that goes nowhere.
I round the building and spot the guys through the glass windows. They’re all wearing different jerseys of players on the Utah hockey team. It takes aminute to get through the security line before I make it to the other five.
“Glad you could join us,” Jackson says, patting me on the back.
