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Chapter7
"What do you mean, he fired you?"
I really wished Becks would stop asking me that. I'd already been crying all night about it and didn't want to rehash it any more than I had to. "I-" Apparently one word was all I could get out before I had to take gasping breaths. Closing my eyes, I counted backwards from ten, trying to regain my composure. "He said the guy from last night," ten, nine, eight, "was too important," seven, six, five, "to upset," four, three, two, one, "and by turning him down I embarrassed him."
"Fucking Carlito," snapped Becks as she threw the plate of eggs on the coffee table, the sound clattering throughout the apartment.
The very thought of eating anything made my stomach clench, but Becks had insisted on cooking. I think it was the only think keeping her from going to the bar this moment and yelling at our boss herself.
Well, I guess it was just her boss now.
I still couldn't believe the voicemail I'd woken up to this morning. Carlito Jr. had been poking his head in and out of the bar all night, but it never occurred to me that he'd been so freaked out by Alek's presence that he'd fire me on the spot if I refused to even consider dating the stranger.
Heck, he hadn't actually asked me on a date. He asked me to make a deal with him. Which I hadn't technically agreed to even though he made me take the phone anyway.
"As soon as my shift starts today, I'm going to give that son of a bitch a piece of my mind."
The thought of exactly what pieces she was planning on giving him sent visions of terror through me. "You can't! It's bad enough that I'm out of a job. You need to be on good behavior."
She snorted. The idea of Becks exhibiting good behavior, even on a good day, was laughable. "He can't kick you out on your ass for not immediately rolling over and spreading your legs. That's not part of our job. We've worked there for years, and this has never been a thing."
Yeah, but we've never had a customer like Alek, I thought to myself. But Becks hadn't heard our conversation. When I'd talked to her on our way home, she told me Carlito Jr. had made her help him with busy work in the back.
Somehow Alek arranged for our talk to be private.
Everything had been planned. He'd known my name, my address and arranged everything ahead of time.
And now he'd gotten me fired from my highest paying job. The rent wasn't due for another three weeks. For some reason, Frankie hadn't collected last month’s rent yet. But I wasn't going to count on him staying away.
Frankie was a bottom feeder who would take advantage of us any way he could. He charged us as much as he could while knowing we couldn't get another place without jobs that didn't pay under the table.
There was no way I could get more hours at The Busy Bean. The part-time reception job I had at admissions in the university was so bureaucratic that it would take months for them to approve more hours. I'd been trying to get extra hours ever since I'd started and gotten nowhere. My only option was to try to get another server job.
"If you're gone, I'll take on more of your hours," said Becks as though she didn't already shoulder enough.
She wasn't just supporting herself. Half of her money had to go home to support her little sister. I couldn't be the reason Layla wasn't being taken care of.
I wanted to reassure Becks that I'd find another job and she wouldn't have to worry about anything, but I couldn't. Any extra cash we could get right now would be needed. "I have a shift at the daycare. You can come along and get some studying done. Maybe the kids will cheer you up."
Did Becks really think I was so fragile that I needed a babysitter? It would be hard to wallow in self-pity while surrounded by kids, but my introverted nature was desperate for some private wallowing time. I brought paper towel to my nose and blew loudly. “I’m not fit for public exposure today,” I said in a nasally, congested voice.
Becks pulled her blonde hair back in a ponytail as she put on what she called her "battle armor" for her daycare job—otherwise known as the cheapest leggings and t-shirt combo she could get at the department store. As she liked to say, the motto of the daycare was "kids are gross."
I retreated to my room so Becks wouldn't have to see my face and feel guilty for going off to live her life.
I had the morning off from The Busy Bean, but I was working a two-to-four shift at the university, so I only had a few hours to myself. It would've been a better idea to sleep in, but I don't think my body actually remembered how to sleep in anymore.
After finishing my eggs, I cleaned up the dishes and by then Becks was gone. As soon as the door shut behind her, a loud ding came from somewhere.
I turned off the sink and dried off my hands but didn't hear it again. My phone was on the coffee table where we'd eaten breakfast and didn't have any notifications. Had I imagined it?
Ding!
It came from my room.
My heart sank when I realized what it was. The new phone. That had to be it. I should’ve thrown the stupid thing out on the way home. What good would it have done me? If Alek Rishka wanted me to have a phone, he would've gotten me a phone one way or another.
And if I didn't respond to whatever those notifications were, one of his henchman was going to show up outside my door any minute now.
With that thought spurring me on, I crossed to my room where the phone was sitting on the worn dresser that had been in the apartment when we'd moved in.
Did anyone ever leave a guy like Alek on read? What was I thinking? It wasn't Alek messaging me. He probably had some lacky or whatever doing the small potatoes work for him. The only reason he'd given the phone to me last night was because he'd wanted a drink.
Not that he'd taken a drink of the whiskey. He didn't even get a drink and still managed to get me fired. What an entitled jerk.
The burst of anger gave me enough bravery to touch the screen on the phone. I didn't recognize the messaging app that was being used. The messages were from someone listed as "Sir" whose avatar picture was a black circle. Mine was "Angel" and my avatar circle was white feathers.
Alek had called me Angel last night. Not that I know what gave him that idea. There was nothing angelic about Carlito's.
Good morning, Angel. Did you think of me?
I wanted to tell him all the violent ways I'd thought of him after my call from Carlito Jr. last night but threatening a man like Alek Rishka wouldn't just get me out of a job, it would get me out of a heartbeat.
But politely saying no hadn't worked very well for me back at Carlito's. Perhaps short and direct would be best.
I'm not talking to you.
There. Now if he messaged back, I could ignore him and that would be that. I’d set down my limit and I was going to follow through. No ifs, ands or buts.
I flopped back on my bed and waited for his response. Was he going to be mad? Start threatening me?
The day was already getting warm, so I pulled off my sweatshirt and laid back in just my sleep shorts and tank top.
I understand Carlito overreacted to our conversation last night. I will handle him.
Hope blossomed in my chest, and I completely forgot about my resolve to not speak to him.
You're going to get me my job back?!
Of course not. You're far too good to work there.
I should throw this stupid phone across the room. Okay, now I wasn't going to talk to him. He was a crazy person, incapable of seeing reason.
But it only took thirty seconds before my anger overrode my resolve.
How am I supposed to pay rent if I don't have a job
You have two other jobs.
