ago—the same time she’d last seen Marco before this week. She could picture the two of them so clearly in her mind, sitting at Mrs. Vieri’s dinner table. Their hair had been shorter than they’d kept it before, their skin more tanned, but they’d both seemed their old selves, joking around, telling stories, and eating everything that wasn’t nailed down.
Feeling a little rattled, she dropped her money on the table and headed for the bathroom. An idea sprang to mind and she about-faced and went to her car instead. She could freshen up here. Except for the overnight bag she’d been living out of the past few days, most of her clothes were squished into her trunk. She grabbed a hand towel, her toiletry bag, and a fresh set of clothes, concealed everything in her overnight bag, then made her way back inside and into the small single-toilet bathroom.
The door locked behind her, Alyssa dropped her bag to the floor. She laid a few paper towels on the tile in front of the sink to stand on, then toed off her Chucks and undressed. Racing against the inevitable knock on the door, Alyssa washed off at the sink, patted dry with the hand towel, and redressed as fast as she could. Once she was decent again, she relaxed. Teeth and hair brushed and makeup back on, she felt more like herself already.
Disaster averted!
Except, apparently, this wasn’t going to be her day.
With nowhere else to go, she wandered the mall until almost noon but got so sleepy she finally decided to spring the six bucks it cost to go to a matinee movie. She ended up sleeping through the film and the credits, which meant she had to race across town to make it to Whiskey’s on time. When she arrived, she realized she’d never clocked out the previous night, so she’d had to go to Pete and apologize for “forgetting.” She felt horrible about the half truth and making a bad impression so soon, but it wasn’t like she could admit why she’d forgotten.
From there, her day continued to go downhill. Marco called in sick to work—which he never did, according to the day’s running commentary. And, of course, he didn’t answer either of the calls she’d placed to check on him. Then, to top it off, she got paired with a different waitress for her last training shift. Unlike Kim, Tori was clearly unhappy to have Alyssa shadowing her. Instead, she alternated between ignoring her and bossing her around all night and never gave a thought about sharing any of her tips, despite the fact that Alyssa had handled two of the tables on her own.
When she’d finished her shift, Alyssa crashed on the ugly couch in the lounge. Anxiety had her shaking her crossed feet and wondering what the heck she should do. She’d expected to make a little more in tips tonight, but she never should’ve blown nearly twenty dollars on breakfast and a movie. She took a deep breath. It’ll work out. Somehow it will.
“Hey, you. Up for helping me again tonight?”
Alyssa forced her eyes open and found Eric standing in the doorway. Oh, the green room. She was so tired, but it hadn’t taken that long the night before. Might as well do it and make her check that much bigger. She was going to need every cent to get on her feet.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought—”
“No, no, it’s fine.” She pushed off the couch. “Sorry. Just had a bad day and I’m a little cranky.” She gave Eric a small smile.
“No worries. Besides, if you think that’s cranky, you should see Van when he’s in a bad mood. The whole kitchen staff braces to dodge flying butcher knives.”
Alyssa gaped. “That never happened. Did it?”
Eric snickered. “I heard a story once, but it’s probably an urban legend.”
“I’m so telling him you said that.” Eric’s expression froze, and Alyssa chuckled despite her bad mood. “Come on. Let’s get this done.”
“Okay.” They stepped out of the lounge and Eric grabbed a cart that would carry the chafing dishes
Feeling a little rattled, she dropped her money on the table and headed for the bathroom. An idea sprang to mind and she about-faced and went to her car instead. She could freshen up here. Except for the overnight bag she’d been living out of the past few days, most of her clothes were squished into her trunk. She grabbed a hand towel, her toiletry bag, and a fresh set of clothes, concealed everything in her overnight bag, then made her way back inside and into the small single-toilet bathroom.
The door locked behind her, Alyssa dropped her bag to the floor. She laid a few paper towels on the tile in front of the sink to stand on, then toed off her Chucks and undressed. Racing against the inevitable knock on the door, Alyssa washed off at the sink, patted dry with the hand towel, and redressed as fast as she could. Once she was decent again, she relaxed. Teeth and hair brushed and makeup back on, she felt more like herself already.
Disaster averted!
Except, apparently, this wasn’t going to be her day.
With nowhere else to go, she wandered the mall until almost noon but got so sleepy she finally decided to spring the six bucks it cost to go to a matinee movie. She ended up sleeping through the film and the credits, which meant she had to race across town to make it to Whiskey’s on time. When she arrived, she realized she’d never clocked out the previous night, so she’d had to go to Pete and apologize for “forgetting.” She felt horrible about the half truth and making a bad impression so soon, but it wasn’t like she could admit why she’d forgotten.
From there, her day continued to go downhill. Marco called in sick to work—which he never did, according to the day’s running commentary. And, of course, he didn’t answer either of the calls she’d placed to check on him. Then, to top it off, she got paired with a different waitress for her last training shift. Unlike Kim, Tori was clearly unhappy to have Alyssa shadowing her. Instead, she alternated between ignoring her and bossing her around all night and never gave a thought about sharing any of her tips, despite the fact that Alyssa had handled two of the tables on her own.
When she’d finished her shift, Alyssa crashed on the ugly couch in the lounge. Anxiety had her shaking her crossed feet and wondering what the heck she should do. She’d expected to make a little more in tips tonight, but she never should’ve blown nearly twenty dollars on breakfast and a movie. She took a deep breath. It’ll work out. Somehow it will.
“Hey, you. Up for helping me again tonight?”
Alyssa forced her eyes open and found Eric standing in the doorway. Oh, the green room. She was so tired, but it hadn’t taken that long the night before. Might as well do it and make her check that much bigger. She was going to need every cent to get on her feet.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought—”
“No, no, it’s fine.” She pushed off the couch. “Sorry. Just had a bad day and I’m a little cranky.” She gave Eric a small smile.
“No worries. Besides, if you think that’s cranky, you should see Van when he’s in a bad mood. The whole kitchen staff braces to dodge flying butcher knives.”
Alyssa gaped. “That never happened. Did it?”
Eric snickered. “I heard a story once, but it’s probably an urban legend.”
“I’m so telling him you said that.” Eric’s expression froze, and Alyssa chuckled despite her bad mood. “Come on. Let’s get this done.”
“Okay.” They stepped out of the lounge and Eric grabbed a cart that would carry the chafing dishes
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