“We was just lookin’ for a little fun,
that’s all. Didn’t mean no harm.”
“I
bet the lady thinks otherwise. “ Asher spun the knife around in his hand like a
ninja with nunchucks. It surprised me. Where had he learned to do that?
“You
owe her an apology.” He stepped toward the group. “Let’s hear it. Now.”
They
all mumbled some version of “sorry” and melted away into the night.
Marybeth
held me tightly. I think she was shaking just as much as I was. “Jesus Christ,
Chelsea, if you wouldn’t have gotten to the door... I need a fucking
cigarette.”
Asher
was suddenly in front of me. “Are you all right? They didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m
not hurt.” Scared out of my mind, pissing down my leg, but not really hurt.
With
both of them supporting me, we went back into the bar.
Of
all the reactions Scott Dreyfus could’ve had to my near-kidnapping, the one I
got blew me away.
The
next afternoon Scott pulled me into his office alone, shoved me into a chair,
and ranted and raved for ten minutes. I barely heard a word of it. It was only
when he started in on Asher that I lifted my gaze up to him, my own temper at
the boiling point.
“….and
then fucking Asher tries to play hero by pulling a fucking knife on
those guys! Patrons! Customers! Now they’ll never come back, and those bikers
drop some serious coin when they come in here!” Scott leaned over me, his
hands gripping the armrests of the chair I was sitting in. He was practically
purple, spitting all over me every time he opened his mouth.
“I
was almost kidnapped, you douchebag!” I glared right back at him. “If Asher
and Marybeth hadn’t heard me screaming, they’d be fishing my body out of the
Monongahela River right now! But that’s okay, isn’t it? As long as you’re
making money, it’s all good, right?”
“Don’t
you talk to me like that, you little cunt. I’ll fire you, Asher, and Marybeth if I have to. Tapestries has a reputation to protect.”
“What
reputation is that, Scott? That the owner’s son is a heartless asshole who
cares more about money than the safety of the female bar employees? You are so
full of shit I can smell you from here!”
He
drew in a sharp breath, and for one suspended heartbeat, I thought he was going
to hit me.
“What
the hell were you doing outside anyway?” He narrowed his eyes.
“Getting
a pair of shorts out of my car. Not that it’s any of your business.” I
crossed my arms in front of me and looked away.
He
stood, looking perplexed. “Shorts? For what?”
“I
was going to put them on under my skirt—a short skirt that you insist we
wear. I was tired of your precious customers putting their hands on my ass!
I don’t understand why we can’t just wear a pair of black shorts and a
Tapestries T-shirt when we’re serving. This is not the first time this has
happened to me. The other girls too. And you don’t seem to care.”
He
snickered. “Tits and ass sell more drinks. The customers like to look at the
girls’ asses when they drink. So do I. If you’d have stayed in the bar, this
wouldn’t have happened.”
That
was it. I was done. I shot up out of my chair, fists clenched. “How dare you
blame me for what happened, you misogynistic jackass! Tits and ass sell
drinks, do they? That sounds an awful lot like sexual harassment to me!”
The
son-of–a-bitch actually had the nerve to run his knuckles across my cheek.
“Why won’t you play nice with me, Chelsea? I’d let you wear anything you wanted
if you’d give me a little taste of that sweet slice you have between your
legs.”
I
drew back and hit him across the face as hard as I’ve ever hit anything in my
life. In fact, my fist was only half-closed when it met his cheekbone. My hand
hurt like hell. I was sure I’d broken a couple of fingers.
Unfortunately,
I’d pushed him to his own breaking point. He staggered back,
that’s all. Didn’t mean no harm.”
“I
bet the lady thinks otherwise. “ Asher spun the knife around in his hand like a
ninja with nunchucks. It surprised me. Where had he learned to do that?
“You
owe her an apology.” He stepped toward the group. “Let’s hear it. Now.”
They
all mumbled some version of “sorry” and melted away into the night.
Marybeth
held me tightly. I think she was shaking just as much as I was. “Jesus Christ,
Chelsea, if you wouldn’t have gotten to the door... I need a fucking
cigarette.”
Asher
was suddenly in front of me. “Are you all right? They didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m
not hurt.” Scared out of my mind, pissing down my leg, but not really hurt.
With
both of them supporting me, we went back into the bar.
Of
all the reactions Scott Dreyfus could’ve had to my near-kidnapping, the one I
got blew me away.
The
next afternoon Scott pulled me into his office alone, shoved me into a chair,
and ranted and raved for ten minutes. I barely heard a word of it. It was only
when he started in on Asher that I lifted my gaze up to him, my own temper at
the boiling point.
“….and
then fucking Asher tries to play hero by pulling a fucking knife on
those guys! Patrons! Customers! Now they’ll never come back, and those bikers
drop some serious coin when they come in here!” Scott leaned over me, his
hands gripping the armrests of the chair I was sitting in. He was practically
purple, spitting all over me every time he opened his mouth.
“I
was almost kidnapped, you douchebag!” I glared right back at him. “If Asher
and Marybeth hadn’t heard me screaming, they’d be fishing my body out of the
Monongahela River right now! But that’s okay, isn’t it? As long as you’re
making money, it’s all good, right?”
“Don’t
you talk to me like that, you little cunt. I’ll fire you, Asher, and Marybeth if I have to. Tapestries has a reputation to protect.”
“What
reputation is that, Scott? That the owner’s son is a heartless asshole who
cares more about money than the safety of the female bar employees? You are so
full of shit I can smell you from here!”
He
drew in a sharp breath, and for one suspended heartbeat, I thought he was going
to hit me.
“What
the hell were you doing outside anyway?” He narrowed his eyes.
“Getting
a pair of shorts out of my car. Not that it’s any of your business.” I
crossed my arms in front of me and looked away.
He
stood, looking perplexed. “Shorts? For what?”
“I
was going to put them on under my skirt—a short skirt that you insist we
wear. I was tired of your precious customers putting their hands on my ass!
I don’t understand why we can’t just wear a pair of black shorts and a
Tapestries T-shirt when we’re serving. This is not the first time this has
happened to me. The other girls too. And you don’t seem to care.”
He
snickered. “Tits and ass sell more drinks. The customers like to look at the
girls’ asses when they drink. So do I. If you’d have stayed in the bar, this
wouldn’t have happened.”
That
was it. I was done. I shot up out of my chair, fists clenched. “How dare you
blame me for what happened, you misogynistic jackass! Tits and ass sell
drinks, do they? That sounds an awful lot like sexual harassment to me!”
The
son-of–a-bitch actually had the nerve to run his knuckles across my cheek.
“Why won’t you play nice with me, Chelsea? I’d let you wear anything you wanted
if you’d give me a little taste of that sweet slice you have between your
legs.”
I
drew back and hit him across the face as hard as I’ve ever hit anything in my
life. In fact, my fist was only half-closed when it met his cheekbone. My hand
hurt like hell. I was sure I’d broken a couple of fingers.
Unfortunately,
I’d pushed him to his own breaking point. He staggered back,
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