Page 8 of Obsession

I glance at the wall clock.

It’s close to midnight.

I wonder if that little bartender returned to work.

There’s a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I call out.

It’s Steve, the bitch ass manager I hired a little less than a year ago.

“Well?” I study him.

Steve looks ready to piss himself. “Megan called to let me know she’s coming in tonight.”

“I see.”

When he hesitates, I give him a cool look. “If you have something to say, spit it out.”

Steve is sweating like a pig at this point. “She’s a real good worker. All the customers like her, and she knows how to keep her head down. Also, she’s in college right now and –“

Irritation flares in me. “I didn’t call her back to work to flay her alive, but since you’re in such a chatty mood today, tell me about her.”

I don’t offer him a seat.

It amuses me to see him shake in his shoes.

I’ve never really liked Steve. He has this slimy feel to him, but the place has been running smoothly, so I can sacrifice my personal feelings.

“She, uh - She’s been here for six months now. It was a rough start, but she figured things out pretty quickly. She always opts for the night shift because it pays well.”

Steve is talking so quickly that his words are stumbling over each other.

“Why’d you fire her?”

He stares confused at me for a moment. “I didn’t fire her, but I suppose I should have?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“I can give you her employee file to look over, sir, but she’s a good worker.”

“You already said that.”

“Yeah,” Steve stammers and his face turns a shade of clammy grey. “She’s kind of indispensable.”

I arch a brow in a mild threat. “Since when do you decide whether someone is indispensable or not?”

If he throws up on my carpet, I’m going to wipe it with his face.

“No, no. I meant... I wasn’t trying to...“

“Give me her file and get out,” I tell him, beginning to get annoyed with the fearful look on his face.

Steve is quick to obey, and I lounge in my chair, looking through the brave little Megan Taylor’s file.

Her eyes have a captivating look to them. They are deep set, framed by long black lashes, and are so mesmerizing that one could be hypnotized by them. But they have a guarded look to them as well, and while she’s smiling in her resume photo, the smile doesn’t reach those unforgettable eyes.

“I wonder what you had to survive,” I murmur to myself. I’ve seen that look in people’s eyes before.

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