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She looked down quickly, her throat working as she swallowed repeatedly, her claws tinkling against the stem of her wine glass as she fidgeted in her seat. She actually did look ashamed, but before either of us could say anything more, I heard Mani’s voice come from behind me.
“Everything okay here, Beryl?”
Fear tightened my stomach. Fuck.
“Everything’s fine.” My voice shook with suppressed anger. Even with my boss’s presence, I couldn’t bring myself to give Agma a polite smile. “Let me know if you need a top-up.”
Snatching up the card machine, I turned and walked quickly to the register to put it back. I tried counting backward from five in my head to calm down, but it didn’t work. Especially when I realised Mani had followed me.
“Hey.” She squeezed my shoulder, but it just made me even tenser. “Come with me.”
Fuck. I didn’t know what she’d heard, but it must have been clear that I was arguing with Agma. With a customer. God, I’d been so unprofessional. I should have just walked away when she’d made an attempt to end the conversation. What had I even gained from calling her out on what she’d done? I didn’t feel any better, and it wasn’t like it made a difference to Greid. She’d already made him feel self-conscious over what he liked. She’d already told people.
I didn’t say anything as I stiffly followed Mani toward the back office. But then she turned, heading down the corridor to the restrooms, and kept going to the door marked PRIVATE ENTRY at the end.
“Have I told you that Ron and I live above the bar?” she asked conversationally as she produced a key and unlocked the door.
“No. I don’t think so.” I fell silent again, wondering why she was taking me up to her apartment. Maybe to reprimand or fire me in private, without the risk of Gavin or Kayr wandering into the back office while she was doing it.
“It was a dump when we moved in, but Ron’s great at DIY. He fixed the place up beautifully.”
I followed her up the staircase to another locked door, my head throbbing with anger and tension as I waited for her to open it.
She stepped back after the door swung inward. “Come on in.”
I walked inside in silence, taking in the exposed brick walls and industrial-chic décor. The TV was on, showing a dropball game, and I realised Ron was drinking a beer on the couch when he peered back.
“Oh, hey, Beryl.”
“Hi.” I was strung too tight to say anymore.
“We’re going up to the roof, babe,” Mani told him as she opened the fridge in the tiny kitchen and pulled out two beer bottles.
“’Kay.” He looked at me again. “You alright, pipsqueak?”
“Difficult customer.” Mani answered for me as she clapped me on the shoulder and nodded at a staircase tucked into the corner of the open-plan room.
I followed her up it, feeling Ron’s concerned gaze on my back, and looked around in surprise when we emerged onto a rooftop terrace. A black metal table and chairs sat beneath trellising that was dripping with fairy lights, and plants of all shapes and sizes were crammed together along the entire length of the raised roof lip.
“Ron’s got a green thumb,” Mani told me with a chuckle as she pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. “I kill everything.”
I walked over to another chair and stiffly sat. “It’s lovely up here.”
“Thanks. He works hard on it.” She twisted off the beer caps and handed me a bottle. “So. Who was that?”
I tensed up again, running my thumb over the condensation on the dark glass. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re fine, Beryl. I just thought you might want to talk about it. Or at least take a break to cool off.” She chuckled. “You looked about ready to sock her in the mouth.”
I had been, even though Agma had seemed surprisingly contrite. She hadn’t sneered or been all that dismissive over hurting Greid, but I’d just been too angry.
“She’s Greid’s ex, but it wasn’t just… bitchy squabbling.” I wanted to make that clear. “She told her friends some personal stuff about Greid after they split up, and when I realised it was her, I just… I got really fucking mad.”
“I see.” Mani took a sip of her beer and waited for me to continue.
“It just made me really angry that she and her friends made him feel like shit for who he is,” I blurted, ripping at the label on my beer bottle. “Things he has no control over. Things he should never feel like shit for. It just… It feels like she couldn’t accept him for who he is, so she punished him for it. For not being who she wanted him to be.”
I was breathing hard, my eyes burning. I took a long gulp of beer, wrinkling my nose at the unfamiliar sour taste.
