What the hell was that about?
“Get your ass in here. I’ve still got shit to show you,” he beckons, and I follow like I’m not a grown man with my own free will.
For the next twenty minutes Tek doesn't let up. I'm lectured on how to scrub the sink, how to wipe down every surface with industrial disinfectant, and his correct alphabetical-order-way to store the ink bottles. Literally every last thing that I could ever need to know is spewed at me.
“Is there gonna be a quiz on this?”
“If there was, you'd already have failed.”
“Rude,” I say with a cheekiness to my tone. “But if most of it is cleaning, why don’t you just hire a maid?”
“Are you saying that cleaning is beneath you? Or that it’s women’s work?”
I match his expressionless face. “Not at all. But wouldn’t you rather look at a woman all day?”
“You say that like I plan on looking atyouall day.”
“It’s not that deep. All I’m saying is that Shawn did this job before. Surely she was more appealing to look at. Would you not prefer to have something more… pretty around?”
He considers it, or at least pretends to. “Something tells me you have better stamina. Maybe it’s because of the way you love running your mouth so much.”
“Is there much more to go through?” I ask, stretching until my back cracks. “I mean—and no offense, because I do get the importance of it all—but it’s quite basic. I can get this all done in three days a week tops.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You even said yourself that the deep cleans don’t need to be done every day. And you set up and sanitize your own station and equipment. Once I’ve dealt with all of Eden’s customers you won’t have room to make new bookings anyway, so I’ll set up a better answering machine message and handle those calls when I’m back in the next day.”
“Fine.” Tek’s response is abrupt, like he’s offended, and I want to scream. I practically begged him for this job, and all he’s done since I first walked through the damn door is talk to me like crap, so what the actual fuck is he playing at?
I exhale loudly as I lean forward on the reception desk and watch him spray, then wipe down the table at his station before wrapping it in plastic film.
“Why don't you set up another table?”
He looks at me without raising his head. It feels like a scowl, but I could care less.
“I’m serious. Bring one of the other tables out. Hell, set up a whole other station. Why not? The place feels empty with only your set up.”
“And what would be the point of—”
“Just shut up and let me finish.” I clap back at him. “You say I run my mouth, well you need to open your fucking ears.”
Tek glares at me, and there’s no mistaking it this time.
I round the front of the desk then lean back casually against it.
“Now, if you had another station set up, I could have it cleaned and prepped for your next client. Do you think you can still do your job three yards to the left?”
Tek opens his mouth but I push off the desk and hold my hand up as I walk past him to the front of the shop.
“I’m not going anywhere so you can save your breath telling me to fuck off,” I let him know as I watch the lights inside Watersons’ flicker on. “What did Shawn do here all week anyway if this is all the work she had to do?”
Tek mumbles his answer.
I look back at him. “Huh?”
He tosses the roll of plastic film into the metal draw of his trolley, and all but slams it shut. “I said, she fucked your brother in the break room, mostly.”
I snicker, “Calm your farm, old man,” and lean sideways against the front door so I can keep an eye on Watersons’ and Tek. “Are you jealous?”
