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Then I remembered the shutoff notices, the missing bill money, and all those nights I'd spent worrying about shit she should've been handling herself. And finally, Montae. That usually did it.
“I'm tired, Ash,” I admitted, slipping a ring onto my finger.
Her expression softened even more. “I know, girl.”
“No, I'm really tired.” I stared at myself in the mirror, struggling to explain something I'd been feeling for years. “I spent all that time making sure everybody else was straight, and neither one of them gave a damn when I wasn't.”
Ashlynn was quiet for a moment before nodding toward my phone. “Then let their asses figure it out.”
I turned toward her, lifting an eyebrow. “That's your comforting advice?”
“That was very comforting,” she answered seriously, making me laugh despite myself.
“You're terrible.”
“And yet you moved across the country with me,” she replied, shrugging like she'd made some profound point.
“City, Ashlynn. I moved across the damn city.”
“Same shit.”
I shook my head, smiling as I grabbed my structured black bag. Ashlynn finally got up from the bed and walked over, giving me a slow once-over before letting out a whistle.
“Okay, manager,” she said, circling one finger to make me turn around.
“Don't start,” I warned, although I gave her half a spin anyway.
“Nah, bitch. You look good. That corset is everything.”
“It better be. You talked me into buying it,” I reminded her, smoothing my hands over my waist.
“And was I wrong?” she asked, her grin widening when I didn't answer.
I rolled my eyes, but she knew she wasn't. I looked good. Underneath all that confidence, though, my stomach was doing a little something. Ashlynn must've noticed because she stopped admiring my outfit and tilted her head.
“You nervous?” she asked.
“A little,” I lied, looking away.
Her expression told me she wasn't buying it. I sighed, dropping my shoulders. “Fine. Yes, I'm nervous.”
That got a laugh out of her, but she reached over and squeezed my arm. Malachi had called a few days after my interview and offered me the position managing Vice's floor staff and bar. I'd made him repeat the salary twice because I was sure I'd heard his ass wrong. I hadn't.
I knew bars. I knew customers, drunk people, irritated people, entitled people, and people who suddenly forgot how money worked after ordering shit they couldn't afford. But this was bigger than anything I'd done before. For the first time, the money I earned didn't already belong to somebody else. I could save, make plans, and eventually get my own place. Hell, I could finally breathe.
Ashlynn grabbed her purse and headed toward the door. “You ready? 'Cause I'm trying to drink for free tonight.”
I stopped behind her, giving her a look. “You're paying.”
She opened the bedroom door without turning around. “Girl, bye.”
I laughed and followed her out.
***
Vice looked completely different with the lights down and the doors finally open. For weeks, I'd watched pieces of it come together. Furniture arriving, staff training, liquor deliveries, and contractors finishing last-minute shit while Malachi walked around looking like he was two seconds from firing everybody.
The one person I hadn't seen was Ezra. Not once.
