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“It sure was. How is it out there tonight, Amber?” I ask her as I shove my keys and wallet into my locker, grabbing my apron and tying it around my waist.
“Not too bad. It hasn’t gotten too busy yet.”
“Well, I need it to get really busy. I need the tips.”
Her face softens when I look over at her. “Your step-mom asking for more money?”
“Not yet. Just the usual expenses right now.”
Amber sidles up next to me and throws her arms around my shoulders, crushing me into a side hug. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re on the schedule, lots.”
Laughing, I shrug her off. “Thanks, Amber. It helps that I’m the best bartender too, right?”
She chuckles, moving to the door that leads to the club and looking over her shoulder. “I didn’t say that it wouldn’t benefit me too. Now get your sexy ass out there.”
two
Ella
“Shit, my feet hurt,” I whine under my breath as I balance against the bar while I lift each foot up trying to relieve the pressure. I know better than this, I internally scold myself. These shoes can’t withstand hours at the bar on my feet. But I can’t help but wear them. These bad boys make my butt look really good. And god knows I need those tips.
Tonight the bar is packed. I love it when it’s busy. It stops me from thinking too much. Thinking about how my life is not what I expected it to be. How my dad is in the hospital on his deathbed and my step-mother and step-sisters still hate my guts. I drown myself in work so I can breathe.
A feeling of relief comes over me when I see the tip jar. My fingers twitch, wanting to count the money, wanting to reassure myself that everything is going to be okay at least in the short run. I hope it will be enough to pay the mortgage for the house this month. Since my father hasn’t officially given the house to my step-mother she refuses to pay, leaving the responsibility to me. I keep staring at the jar, hoping that the amount will ease the pressure in my chest.
I just want to count it right now, but I can’t. We don’t count until everyone finishes their duties. Bar rules since we share the tips.
Time to finish closing up the bar. Thinking about my checklist for tonight, I grab the wet rag and start wiping down the bar. Amber approaches with a grin “Hey, how did you do tonight?”
I look back over at the tip jar then return back to her. “We haven’t counted it yet, since we’re not done with closing duties. But it looks like I did pretty good.”
She goes and grabs the tip jar smiling, “Good thing I’m the manager and can count the tips myself.”
“You are ridiculous,” I tell her as I continue cleaning.
She lets out a screech of glee. “Ella, your cut from the tips is $1,000.”
“No way. That can’t be”
She hands me the pile of cash. I grab it cautiously, staring at it. Shit, this plus last night will be enough for the mortgage this month. Which means I can put my paycheck toward my savings to help me to buy the house.
Amber interrupts me by asking. “Will it be enough? Or do I need to put you on the schedule every night?”
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, I answer her “With these tips plus what I’ve already saved, it’s enough. Thank god. But you know I’m already here every night. If it wasn’t for you though, I wouldn’t have made this many tips. We’ve never had this many customers. I bet Max is happy that he hired you as manager.”
Amber ignores my comment about Max. For some reason they get along in a professional manner, but she refuses to speak about him. It's none of my business so I let it go.
Her eyes soften a bit as she leans over whispering to me “You know you can always strip. There’s no shame in doing whatever you need to do to get by.”
She points over to the other section of the bar and my eyes follow her finger. “Those girls make bank. You would be able to purchase your father’s house faster. Sometimes I even think about giving up my manager position and going back to stripping.”
Twiddling my fingers together, I answer, “I know, but if the step-witches found out, they’d humiliate me more than they already do. They would use it against me like stones to throw at a public shaming.”
She swallows so hard I can hear it over the music, “I guess in this situation, it pays not to have any family then, huh?”
Holding back tears, I say, “In some ways, I can see the appeal, but I wouldn’t trade the memories of my mom and dad for anything.”
Turning away from her so she doesn’t see how much her words affect me, I start straightening up the bottles of booze to give my hands something to do.
