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I do, however, know where they all end. My truth. My lies. And the dark place where I’ve buried all of my ugliest, most damning secrets.
“When are you going to tell him?”
My head snaps up at Tasha’s question. For a moment, I’m startled. Did I speak my fears out loud?
“Sooner or later, he’s going to find out you work here, Avery. If he’s got a problem with that, then he damn well doesn’t deserve you.”
I nod because I know she’s right.
I should tell him. I dodged a bullet last night with Kimmie, but just because she didn’t have the opportunity to out me to Nick in public doesn’t mean I should try to prolong my lie.
There is a chance he would forgive me for this small untruth I’ve told him. As for the rest of them—
“Avery.” Joel’s grating voice shakes me from my thoughts. He’s just arrived in the open doorway, his eyes cold on me, his thin lips compressed in a flat line. “My office. Now.” His glare lands on Tasha next. “Get out on the floor. I don’t pay you to stand around and shoot the shit with this one.”
She gives me an apologetic look before scurrying out of the coat room. I glance up at Joel, hating the way he seems to delight in making everyone cower.
Even though I should hustle to obey my boss’s orders, too, I remain seated on the chair. It’s strange, but just feeling the cushions surrounding me, supporting me, gives me a fortitude I can’t explain. Just a few weeks ago, I did things in this chair I never would’ve considered doing before I’d met Nick. And now, I feel a different kind of boldness building in me—one that can’t be bowed by an overbearing, abusive bastard like the one fuming across from me in the doorway.
I take my time putting my flats away in my bag, then I get up and carefully stow my things in my locker. I’m being spiteful and defiant, but at the moment I’m finding it hard to care.
Joel’s rising agitation is nearly palpable. He huffs out a sharp breath. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. I said, my office. Right fucking now.”
I shut the locker door with more force than necessary, then pivot to face him. “I heard you. But guess what? You don’t pay me to jump at your command. Unlike Kimmie, I’m not here to kiss your ass. I’m here to work. And I have been—six days a week without fail for the past year and a half.”
I’ve taken him aback, I can tell. But Joel’s a natural bully and he recovers quickly. “Maybe you should’ve considered that before you bailed on your job yesterday and left me in a lurch behind the bar. What am I supposed to do about that?”
“I haven’t missed a day since I started working here, Joel.”
He ignores me, his face going red. “And leave Kimmie out of this. At least she’s reliable.”
I snort, unable to hold it back. “Oh, she’s reliable, all right. How long did it take her before she told you we ran into each other last night? Did she wait until she got in today, or did she call you right from the hotel?”
Judging from his constipated expression, I’m guessing it was the latter.
“People who work for me only get one strike. After all this time, I’d have thought you knew that.” His mouth purses as he judges me now. “So, as of today, you’re off the night schedule.”
“What?”
I see the smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he’s taking great joy in doling out my punishment. “Since you obviously have better things to do, I’m putting you on days. You can begin with three shifts a week, just like anyone else starting fresh on the job.”
The bastard. “That’s going to cut my income in half, Joel. This is bullshit, and you know it.”
“You wanna lose this job?” He steps forward, his barrel chest puffed out as if he thinks he can intimidate me. “Frankly, you’ve always had a bit of an attitude, Avery. I gotta tell you, it’s pissing me off.”
Of course, it would. I know about men like him, men who equate control with oppression. Men who don’t think twice about grinding their heel on someone’s head to make them obey. Men who bully or beat or abuse the people around them.
I’ve known men far worse than Joel—my stepfather being one of them. But just because Joel is less of a monster doesn’t make him right. It doesn’t mean my hackles don’t rise in reaction as he moves in even closer to me, crowding me in the small room with no one else around.
His voice softens now, but I feel it as the threat it truly is. “In case I’m not being clear, let me help you understand something right here and now. You need to show me the respect I’m due. I’m a reasonable man, Avery, but I won’t tolerate insubordination.”
“How do you feel about complete and utter loathing?”
I can’t help it—the words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. And once they’re out, I don’t even want to try to take them back.
With anger fueling me, I turn away from him. Steeling myself to the weight of his glower, I go back to my locker and calmly collect my things. I can feel his eyes on me as I sling my purse over my shoulder. When I swivel around, I find him gaping, his jowly face corpulent with color, his upper lip beading with sweat.
I pause in front of him. “In case I’m not being clear, let me help you understanding something. I fucking quit.”
