“Irrational?” Livvy jumped up and began pacing around the room. She stopped in front of her mother.
“Okay, Mom. Here’s the deal. If my new boss asks, I’ll tell her my old boss gives me the worst shifts because he’s sleeping with one ofthe other waitresses on the side. And also, the grill guy keeps sending me dick pics. I think she’ll understand.”
“Whaaat?” Shannon shrieked, clutching her chest. “What did you just say?”
“Eddie, the grill cook, has been sexting me. He just texted me a picture of his dick. Or somebody’s dick. He’s a shrimpy little guy, probably doesn’t weigh a hundred pounds, so I doubt that’s actually his real package. Anyway, he grabs my ass every time we’re alone in the kitchen, or tries to shove his tongue down my throat. So no, I’m not going to keep working there, no matter what you say.”
“Livvy!” Shannon exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say something? Have you told Mr. Godby? That’s… criminal. We’ll report him to the police.”
“Mommm,” Livvy said. “Drop it. No way Godby is going to fire Eddie. Experienced cooks are too hard to find. Tomorrow, I’ve got an interview for this new gig, and I’m super excited. Can’t you be excited for me?”
“Where is this new gig?” Shannon asked. “What’s the job? And how do you know they’re actually going to hire you? Have you considered what happens if this supposed sure thing falls through? How will you pay your tuition? And your car payment?”
“I’m going to work at the Saint,” Livvy said. “It’s a done deal. I waited on Traci Eddings today, and she was super impressed… offered me a job on the spot.”
“The Saint?” Tiny black spots floated in front of Shannon’s eyes and her pulse was racing. She would put a stop to this here and now.
She grasped her daughter by the shoulders. “No. Absolutely not. You’re not going anywhere near that place, and you’re not going to work for that family. Ever. Do you hear me?”
Livvy shook her off. “What is wrong with you? Why is this such a big deal?”
“Never mind. I won’t let you do this, Livvy. There are plenty of other places you can work around here. Like the hospital. They’re always looking for aides, and the pay’s decent. If not there, you could work for your uncle. Decent hours, and…”
“You’re not listening!” Livvy shouted. “I don’t want to work at your shitty hospital, or any other place, and I’m definitely not working at Uncle Joe’s boring insurance office. You can’t stop me. I’m almost twenty-one. I can make my own decisions.”
“No,” Shannon insisted. “You don’t know those people. They’re rich and charming on the surface, but the reality is that they’re rotten. All of them. I absolutely forbid this.”
“Forbid?” Livvy laughed. “This isn’t the eighteenth century, Mom. You don’t get to forbid me to do stuff. What are you going to do? Put me in time-out?”
“Is this funny to you? Because it’s not funny to me. I’m dead serious, Liv. Do not do this. These people—”
“These people what?” Livvy challenged her. “I’ll tell you what. These people are going to pay me a lot more than I’m making now. And they’re giving me a free place to live, on site. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a done deal.”
Shannon’s breathing went shallow; her mouth was dry. “So you’re moving out too, just like that?”
“As soon as the new dorm is ready, I’m out of here,” Livvy told her.
CHAPTER 5
FELICE
Deion was gone. The pickup was gone, and more importantly, Caribbean Soul had gone with him.
Stunned, Felice slumped down to the pavement in the motel parking lot, clutching her face in her hands, softly moaning and cursing, first in English, then French, then Creole.
Thirty minutes she’d been gone. That’s all. Just thirty minutes. She’d walked to the Shop and Go to buy coffee and sweet rolls, and by the time she returned, De had vanished.
At first, she’d had a fleeting thought. Maybe some redneck cop had run him off. No telling what her hotheaded fool of a boyfriend would say or do if challenged by a cop. He had a gun. A little pistol he hid rolled up in a pair of socks that he didn’t think she knew about. She tried calling De’s phone, but he wasn’t picking up.
But she knew; yeah, she knew. His stuff was gone from their room. All his clothes, his stash, and yeah, his kicks, ten fucking pairs of designer sneakers. Thousands of dollars’ worth of shoes. He wore them in rotation, and after every wearing, would sit down and lovingly clean them off with baby wipes.
Felice sleep-walked into the motel office, where a chubby white girl with stringy black hair, bad skin, and a worse attitude sat behind the desk.
Felice’s voice shook with a combination of anger and fear. “Our food truck? Have you seen it?”
The girl was watching something on her laptop computer. She didn’t even look up.
“You mean that fugly trailer with the pineapples and palm trees and shit painted all over it? I seen that dude light outta here earlier. Good thing, too. My daddy was gonna tell y’all to get that thing outta our parking lot. Y’all can’t be running some shady shit outta here.”
