Page 42 of My Soul for Sale

"Yeah, that might be it," I confirm.

"Average height, could stand to lose a few pounds? Was it a night shift? She's the night girl."

As she describes Sloane, a surge of protectiveness and anger builds within me. Sloane's perfect the way she is. Atlas growls beside me, and I shoot him a warning glare.

"Yeah, that must be her. Can you tell me when she works next?" I ask, hoping for a helpful response.

There's a moment of silence on the line, and I fear this half-assed plan isn’t going to work. "Why you wanna know? She give you shitty service and you wanna yell at her?" the voice asks, excitement evident in her tone. "Or you forgot to tip and wanna bring it in? If so, you don't need to wait till she's here. Bring it anytime, ask for Trina, and I'll make sure she gets it."

I can sense this woman's hostility toward Sloane, and that she’s a con artist. No way will a tip ever be given to Sloane if someone gave it to this bitch. "Yeah, she was rather rude, and I'd like to come in and speak to her about manners," I respond.

"She doesn't work tonight or tomorrow, but she'll be in the next night at six. Anything else?" the woman asks tersely.

"No, that's it. Thank you so much," I reply, faking a smile even though she can’t see me.

"Yeah, whatever. Just make sure you teach her better customer service. Then maybe she won't kill the mood and the rest of us’s tips," the woman retorts before abruptly ending the call.

I exchange a bewildered glance with Atlas, wondering what kind of establishment Sloane works at.

“Did she just say us’s instead of ours? What the hell? Also, she seems like she might need a lesson in customer service.” Atlas quirks an eyebrow at me.

“I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Well, now we have plans in a couple of days. We’re going to the Iced Rose and I’m going to win my girl back. Hopefully, our girl.”

“Atla—” I growl.

“Ookay, okay. I’ll leave it alone. But I still want to know why she left Sunday. What was so important she couldn’t stay?”

“Fuck,” I murmur.

I forgot he still doesn’t know what I do. I was so wrapped up in waiting for the text from Edward and surviving this work week with Atlas’ mood swings, I totally blanked.

Idiot.

Telling him could have helped his mood.

Dad fail.

And yes, even as parents to adults, we can fuck up.

“What?” Atlas tilts his head to the side, looking at me.

“When Edward called me, he told me some news that could change your thoughts on Sloane leaving.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that there would have been no money if Sloane didn’t return. They aren’t paid until Sunday night. So she had to go back for her half a million or she would have forfeited it.”

Atlas hits himself in the forehead. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Why? What happened?”

“She pretty much told me that. I heard her, but wasn’t really taking it in. She told me she needed the money. I should have put two and two together—that if she didn’t return, there would be no money.”

“Well, you add that to your apology, then, I guess.” I shrug.

“I have even more to apologize for now.” He falls back in his bed, moving an arm over his eyes. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

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