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“Please stop, Gracie. I don’t need your shit right now,” I snapped.
I rarely snapped at Gracie, but she was right, and I hated that. I was getting exactly what I deserved. I would never drink again. Never again.
After throwing up everything I had eaten in the past twenty-four hours and taking the hottest shower my skin could stand, I used Gracie’s phone to call and check on Sadie. She was home safe and had no idea how she had gotten there.
“Let’s not do that again,” I said, tossing a painkiller into my mouth and taking a swig from my water.
“Agreed.” She moaned.
After we hung up, I took a nap, and when it was time to wake up for work, I still felt like crap. I skipped work because I knew I would puke if I got near the food. There was no way I would handle a day of cooking. My head throbbed, and I felt terrible. I had never called in before, but I had no other choice. I was sick.
THE FOLLOWING WEEK WAS LONG, and the tips were aplenty, so for the first time ever, I turned down extra hours when Milly offered overtime. To say Milly and Sadie were shocked would be an understatement.
After that day, things kept going wrong. The morning after, I missed the bus. I was late, and Milly was pissed at me even though it was the first time I had ever been late. I missed the bus a second time and had to walk, showing up thirty minutes late again.
I screwed up a customer’s order and received a complaint. I closed out the cash register twenty bucks short. It was strange that things took such an abrupt turn. One day, I was getting an abundance of tips and working and getting ahead, and the next, everything was crazy.
When Milly fired me for calling in sick two days in a row, I wasn’t shocked by her decision. Well, maybe a little since I had worked my ass off for her over the past year. It was weird since I hadn’t gotten sick since I was seventeen, yet suddenly, I had the flu.
Still, as soon as I was back on my feet, I went straight into job search mode. I could fall behind just as quickly as I got ahead. Thanks to my excellent tips over the past few weeks, I had some savings, but that didn’t mean I had any time to relax. I needed a job as soon as possible.
After searching for two days, I was offered a job at the Waffle House down the road from The Huddle. I took it on the spot, and since I knew the ropes, I started the following day. Unfortunately, they had someone running the grill already, so I was stuck waiting tables. I wasn’t a people person, but Waffle House was like The Huddle. Everyone worked together to do everything.
The good news was working with the people would keep the tips reasonable. I didn’t know what to expect since these weren’t my regulars, but still, as I worked the day, I fell into a flow and even found myself laughing with a few of the girls I worked with.
I cleaned a table and got it set for the next customer when I heard a familiar voice behind me.
“Since when do you work at Waffle House?” Koah asked.
I turned, taking in his dark T-shirt and loose jeans. His cologne reached out and tickled my nose, and after a day of smelling burnt grease and coffee, it was welcomed. He wasn’t alone. Beside him, Joker seethed in my direction, and behind Joker, the mountain named Crow stared back at me with soulless black eyes.
“Since now,” I said. “You guys can sit here.”
I tossed three menus on the table and walked away. I only hoped they didn’t come in often because seeing Koah more often wasn’t something I looked forward to. At least at The Strip, the place was enormous, and I could keep my distance, but Waffle House was small. The kitchen was open to the dining, so there was no hiding anywhere.
“Do you know the boys?” Charlie, the main cook, asked when I stepped behind the counter.
“Not really,” I answered.
And that was the truth. I didn’t know Koah anymore. He wasn’t the same young boy who lived with my family all those years ago. He was a category 5 hurricane, touching down on the coast of my life and bringing complete destruction with him.
“Do they come here a lot?” I asked as I turned away and pretended to organize a pile of napkins.
“Oh yeah. At least three times a week, but mostly late.”
I sighed. Just great. Of course, I would get a job where I was guaranteed to see Koah at least three days a week, depending on which days I worked.
After ignoring the guys long enough to review the menu, I returned to their table with my notebook and pen.
“What can I get for you?” I asked, careful not to make eye contact.
“How about a different server?” Joker asked with a malicious grin.
His icy eyes dug into me, making my skin feel cold and sending shivers down my arms.
“Sure. Let me get that for you,” I said sarcastically.
I rolled my eyes and stuffed my notebook in my apron as I walked away from the group. I didn’t want to wait on them any more than they wanted me to. As far as I was concerned, I would continue to look for another job. There was no way I would deal with seeing these guys three times a week. Screw that.
