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Olivia walked toward our table. My pulse quickened. Was this the moment my identity was revealed. Would she plaster my picture all over social media with #therealmeghangrace. I hid behind the menu.
“My friend and I were talking, and this is clearly tap water. Do I look like I drink water from the faucet? Bring us each a class of sparkling water.” I dropped my menu on the table, wide eyed at Rosie’s giant fake smile.
“Of course.” Olivia skipped away to follow orders.
Dinner and entertainment. This should be interesting.
When she came back, the real fun began.
“I’d like the Cobb Salad with almonds and cranberries, no corn. The roast beef, medium rare with extra carrots. I’d also love a side of French fries with ketchup and ranch.” Rosie stopped at nothing to make her order as complicated as possible. She sipped on her sparkling water before spitting it back into the cup.
I sucked in the laughter hanging on my lips.
“This water is too cold. I need exactly three ice cubes.” The complications continued.
A bead of sweet trailed Olivia’s hairline.
“I’ll have the same.” I lowered the pitch of my voice to remain hidden.
Olivia ran back and forth from the kitchen to our table about a hundred times. With each request fulfilled, Rosie demanded another and another.
“You know she’s going to spit in your food, right?” I finally let go of the laugh I’d been holding back.
Rosie shrugged. “It’s totally worth it!”
When Olivia brought the check and Rosie asked to speak to a manager, I had to bite my tongue. Rosie was the worst customer ever, and it made me the happiest girl in the world.
Chapter 7
Meghan
The next day, I awoke to the scent of bacon and the sound of Lucy singing in the kitchen. Lucy reminded me of Chase’s mom. Her sweet demeanor was almost identical, the type of women who would bend over backwards to light up a child’s face. Or, in my case, a young adult’s.
“Good morning.” She handed me a fresh cup of coffee. I knocked it back with no cream or sugar.
A bag from Buckle sat on the counter. Maybe Rosie forgot to take it to her room when we got home yesterday.
“Happy first year of college.” My one and only friend plopped onto the stool next to me and pushed the bag over.
I pulled out the blue lace blous I’d tried on in the store. “I can’t accept this.”
“You can and you will.” Lucy pointed a spatula in my face.
No.
Too much.
The pressure caved in.
“I can’t.” I shook my head. “Stop being so nice to me. You’re dong too much.” I ran to my room and quietly closed the door. They’d given me food and a place to stay. I couldn’t take another thing.
“Can I come in?” Rosie cracked the door open.
What’s the point of asking if you’re already practically in?
She walked in and sat at the foot of my bed.
“You’ve been through so much. We all want you to know that this isn’t your fault and you deserve better. Aunt Suzie gave me money to spend on you at the mall. She said you’re her best, and favorite, employee. She wished she could do more. I actually have a few more things planned. I was kind of hoping we could have a spa day to help get ready for our first day tomorrow.” She handed me a second bag filled with hair color, nail polish and lots of other girly shit.
