“Lady?” I cut him off. “I’m thirty-three. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.”
Another eye roll. “Fine.Younglady,” he emphasizes. “I already told you. I don’t have coffee here. This is a bar. You want liquor, beer, seltzer—I got you. But you can send as many spitballs my way as you want, and it still won’t change that.”
I’m one purse caught on a door handle away from losing it.
That may be true, but there’s one thing he forgot. I, however, smelled it the second I almost walked past the secluded bar. The fresh ground smell is exactly what caught my attention.
“Explain her espresso martini to me then.” I point to the lady diagonal from me, sipping her creamy brown martini with mini beans floating at the top.
I wouldn’t call it color that drains from his face because that would be overzealous, but I definitely caught him off guard.
“We use espresso for martinis, yes. But we don’t sell espresso by itself. Again, for the hundredth time, there’s a barista counter just around the corner.”
“I have a wet mud stain on my ass and don’t exactly feel like parading around the airport right now.”
He chuckles, and it’s not because he feels like entertaining me. The dude is lucky I don’t reach across the counter and give him something to laugh about. I may be small, but I can handle myself.
Am I seriously preparing to throw down with a lumberjack?
“Sounds like a personal problem,” he comments, pride in his tone.
Oh, funny guy.
I exhale and it feels like I’m learning to breathe for the first time. I feel the air choking up in my chest. In all honesty, I don’t have the energy to keep defending myself anymore. I just want this day to be over and go to sleep. But seeing as how that’s not an option right now, it looks like an espresso martini at ten in the morning will have to do.
“Fine,” I sigh. “I’ll take one and keep ’em comin’.”
My agreement earns me a smile. “Now, was that so hard?” he asks me, arrogance riding high.
“Today is not the day to fuck with me, burly bartender. I’m running on four hours of sleep and a handful of shitty circumstances. You have no idea the damage those two things alone can do to a woman’s patience and confidence. So, go be a guy and fetch that drink for me.” My glare seems to be enough to keep him quiet.
Look at me…fighting with the bartender on this beautiful Monday morning. Sitting in the Nashville airport without a plan is not how I pictured my long weekend ending.
No, because I should be celebrating a successful training conference with my team. Relishing in the new fundamentals future fitness instructors have learned, mechanics they’ve perfected, and every nutritional track they’ve met to help their clients succeed for long-term results.
Because I’m a kick-ass instructor myself, and who better to learn from than me?
Seems my boss thought so too, after she used my skills to cover her ass through the conference, then fired me on the spot. Not sure the bitterness from that sting will ever go away.
Zero warning. Zero appreciation for everything I’ve done to help grow her business.
I’ve got no choice but to shove it under the rug and trudge forward. It’s their loss, right? I’m a Meadows girl, and we don’t let small people win.
I’ll figure this out. I could go back home and try to reset before job hunting again? But goodness, I’m not sure if I can take being home right now. I love my sister, Capri, but if I have to taste test one more piece of fruit-filled cake while she’s home for wedding planning or try on another maid of honor dress, I may explode.
The wedding is in a couple of months. We have time.
I just need a break. If only I knew what that looked like.
Right now, this espresso martini is the only company I need. The only plan I need.
I’ve suddenly got a freed-up schedule, and a check for five grand tempting me to blow it on pointless shit just for the hell of it.
I guess I have no choice but to do what I always do.
Figure it out.
3
