But my mom was right about one thing.
I need to figure out how the hell I’m going to make ends meet when I’m off on my monthlong luxury adventure.
I hop in my Kia Sportage that’s a decade old but still plenty reliable, and I head to one of my part-time jobs that helps me make those ends meet.
The vacation sounds great, but I’m being paid in resort credit, not in cash. And that’s the reality that has me all the way deflated as I walk into Renegade’s Bar and Grille at four in the afternoon to start my swing shift.
“Hey, Mills,” Mike Chipford, the bar manager, says.
“Hey, Chip.” Everyone at the bar calls him that. The only ones who ever call him Mike are his wife and maybe his mother.
“Why the long face?”
I can’t help a small laugh at our inside joke. Someone hung a picture of a horse in the break room, and one day Chip held his hand up at the photo, looked at me, and said in an overly formal voice, “Why the long face?” We always say it to each other, but today, it feels more appropriate than usual.
I let out a heavy sigh.
“That can’t be over your sidework duties,” he says.
I wrinkle my nose as my dark eyes meet his. “What did you put me on tonight?”
“Cleaning the soda gun nozzles.”
I groan. “Could you just…not?”
He chuckles. “Give me a good reason.”
I suppose sayingI got offered a month in the Bahamas totally freeisn’t the best excuse.I’m not sure I can take itseems a little more like it.
“Okay, okay,” he says, and he holds up both hands. “I’ll do it while you cut lemons and limes. But you have to tell me what’s going on.”
I rush into him to give him a hug. “You’re the best.”
“Now Iknowsomething’s wrong.”
We like to tease each other at work. It gets us through the long shifts along with visits from Chip’s wife, Jackie, who happens to be my best friend.
I laugh as I wash my hands, and once they’re dry, I pull out the bucket filled with lemons and limes and set to work.
“So what happened?” he asks.
“Don’t get mad at me.” I glance up, and he’s narrowing his eyes at me. I blow out a breath. “This resort called, and they want me to come stay at their property for a month. It’s totally free for me. All meals, entertainment, the works are included.”
“But…”
“But it’s in the Bahamas.” I wince as I say it, bracing for his reaction.
He whistles through his teeth. “Wow. That’s amazing, Mills. Are you taking it?”
“I want to, but I don’t know how I’ll make rent if I’m not working here all that time.”
“Could you sublet for a month?” he asks.
I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t particularly want someone else sleeping in my bed for an entire month, to be honest.”
He nods. “I get that. Okay, what if you pick up more shifts here for the next month and save up?”
“I’m working thirty hours a week here already, and I’m picking up another fifteen to twenty as a substitute teacher at a preschool. I fit in content creation between all that. I’m already stretched pretty thin.”
