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So that I don’t have to think about it, the question that keeps returning to me as persistent as an itch: What the fuck is wrong with me?
Chapter 24
Sierra
Kill. Me. Now.
“Hi, how can I help you?” I say instead to an approaching blonde couple that look like they want to be here as little as I do.
“Sierra, Sierra, Sierra,” Raymond says, escorting me off to the side with a very unnecessary hairy hand on my shoulder, while Jina takes over from me to take their orders. “What did we say about enthusiasm? We want people to want to order here. Not to scare them away.”
Since I’m in no mood to smile, I focus my energies on at least not outright glaring at him.
Even though I despise everything about him, from his wispy mustache to his watery eyes to his mayonnaise breath.
To think I forgot how much I hated working here. Hated Raymond himself. I’ve been here all of two hours, and he’s already managed to be creepy half a dozen times.
But the bills won’t pay themselves, I remind myself firmly.
After giving all the money I made on the Nolan job to my mom to help pay for fixing her house, I’m pretty much back to square one. A few weeks of desperately shooting out my resume, with no response, has left me here.
Maybe one day I can break into the journalism field. Just not today.
“Oh, look who it is?” a horribly familiar voice says.
Oh no. Oh please God no.
“You know her?” Raymond says, smiling at me like he’s doing me a favor. “You can help her if you like.”
“No, I’d really rather not,” I say. “Actually, come to think of it, I have to go to the bathroom and—”
“We’re not paying you to go to the bathroom,” Raymond says with a firm shove that sends me staggering to the counter.
And then, here I am, behind the counter and facing down Peyton. My sister. AKA the last person I want to be seeing right now.
“What a surprise,” Peyton coos, clearly delighted. “When Mom mentioned it, I knew I just had to stop by.”
She leans in with a thrilled concern on her perfectly made-up face. “Of course, it’s not quite as nice as those journalism jobs you had, but then again, don’t we all need a little bit of humbling now and then?”
“What do you want, Peyton?” I say in a flat monotone.
I’m not sure of Pancake House’s exact employee guidelines, but I’m pretty sure chucking a pancake into your bitchy sister’s face isn’t allowed.
“Oh, not to order anything here.” Tight smile. “Wouldn’t want to waste my calories. Oh, and I heard about your breakup—so sad. I mean, ensnaring a guy that good and then just losing him…”
That’s it.
I lean forward to hiss, “Eat shit.”
Peyton steps back, hand flying to her mouth. “What did you say?”
I bear my teeth into a smile as my hand jerks up in a wave. “Have a nice day!”
She pauses, clearly unsure whether it would be worse for me to lose my shit job or be stuck here. Finally, apparently deciding the latter, she storms out.
“Huh,” Raymond says, fleshy mouth lolling. “That your sister, eh?”
“Yep,” I say. “That’s her.”
After another few minutes of useless chitchat and unnecessary shoulder maneuvering, Raymond finds something to do in the back and leaves me alone. Just in time, too—the twins show up.
“Thank God,” I say, coming to the counter.
Josie makes a sympathetic face. “That bad, eh? I told you, if you just wait a few weeks, I could probably get you in at the nursery when Sheila goes on maternity leave.”
“I don’t have a few weeks,” I remind her. “Rent is due next week, and last time Yurk sent me a nice little letter saying one more late payment and he’s throwing my stuff on the curb.”
“Fucking Yurk,” Wynona mutters with a shake of her head.
“Is it really that bad?” Josie says, clearly trying to ease her conscience.
“Well, let’s see,” I say. “So far, Raymond has been a creep, Peyton has visited and rubbed this job and me and Nolan breaking up in my face, and I had one customer berate me and call me a ‘menace to society’ because our in-store price is different from our online one. So, let’s just say that I’ve had better days.”
“Well,” Josie says, trying to smile. “At least you only have… two more hours left?”
“Small blessings,” I agree, nodding fervently.
“About Nolan,” Wynona says through her frown. “Still no word from him?”
“Nope,” I say. “Not that I expected any. If you guys had been there at the park, you would’ve gotten it. It was like he wasn’t even the same person at all.”
“Jesus,” Josie says. “And you didn’t even write that article.”
“I know,” I say. “I think he had trust issues anyway, and that thing didn’t help. I just…”
