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As soon as I open the door and see Grams sitting in the recliner, my heart rate calms, and my hands stop shaking. She looks up at me, smiling while continuing to knit what looks like a scarf.
“Hi, pumpkin, hope you had a great day at school,” she greets me cheerfully, completely oblivious of the shitty day that I’ve had.
“Hi, Grams. I did,” I lie, the last thing I want to do right now is upset her. “How was your day?”
“Boring, but I kept myself busy with cleaning and knitting.” She looks at me, and her smile suddenly fades, her eyes grow big, and her eyebrows furrow. “What happened to your neck, Stella?”
My hands fly up to my throat, where my skin is already tender. “Oh, nothing.” I play it off. “I’m going to take a shower before I start dinner, okay?”
Grams opens her mouth to say something, but I’m already out of the room before she can finish. I speed walk to the bathroom and close the door behind me. As soon as I’m alone again, I sigh and look at my reflection in the mirror. My throat is already red and blue, outlines of each of Paul’s fingers decorate the skin. Shit, I’m going to have to cover them up with makeup. I can’t return to work like this… who am I kidding? I can’t go back to work there, not after what happened.
There are only two ways that things could’ve ended after I left. One, they killed Paul, which means the cops are going to come knocking on my door very soon, or two, they beat the crap out of him, which means I can’t go back because Paul will hate my guts and most likely fire me anyway.
Either scenario leaves me in the center of a shitstorm and without a job, which means I need to find work elsewhere, and I need to do so fast.
All I want to do is cry, but I can’t. I have to be strong, not only for me but most importantly, for Grams.
Things could always be worse.
I tell myself as I strip out of my clothing and turn the shower on. Maybe if I go to sleep, I can wake up in the morning and pretend that none of this happened.
Wishful thinking, huh?
Twenty-four hours have passed, and the police haven’t shown up. I checked the news, and there was no report of a body that’s been found or any other scandal surrounding Blackthorn. Thank god. That means Cameron and Easton didn’t kill Paul, which also means I can never show my face in Blackthorn again. Paul will probably kill me if he gets the chance, or worse now.
Maybe not going back there isn’t such a bad idea. If I don’t go back, maybe Cam and Easton will lose interest in me. Out of sight, out of mind. One can only hope.
Rifling through my closet, I find my best-looking outfit, consisting of black slack pants and a light pink blouse, and put them both on. I only have sneakers available, not flats or heels, but hopefully, they won’t look down at my feet when I ask for a job. I shake off the nervous feeling in my limbs and force a smile onto my face.
The bell above the door rings as I step into the diner. The hostess, a middle-aged lady with curly red hair, greets me with a wide smile. “Hey, sweetie pie. Coming in to dine with us?”
“Hi, ah… I’m actually here to see if you are hiring right now?”
“Oh, sweets. I’m not sure about that. Let me ask Amanda, our manager. You come and sit in the booth over here, and I’ll go get her for you.”
“Sure, thank you!” I tell her and take a seat in the booth she pointed to. A few moments later, the hostess returns with a woman in tow, which I’m guessing is Amanda.
“Hi there,” she greets, extending out her hand to me. I stand and take her hand, giving it a light shake.
“Hi. I’m sorry to come in unannounced, but I was just wondering if you are hiring?”
“Don’t worry about that.” She smiles before continuing, “We aren’t actively looking, but we usually always need some extra waitresses. What kind of experience do you have?”
“I worked as a nanny for a while, and I used to stock at the local grocery store. My most recent job was in the kitchen as a helping hand at Blackthorn University.”
“So, you don’t have any experience being a server?”
“No, just more like in the background. I’m not great with people.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize that I couldn’t have said anything dumber.
Apparently, Amanda thinks the same because she tips her head back and starts laughing.
“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head.
“Don’t be, I appreciate your honesty. However, I can’t help you out with a job. I’m looking for people with experience. I’m sorry.” She sounds genuinely sorry as she gives me a sad smile.
