Page 28 of Triplet Babies for the Billionaire
I stand up, pushing the nagging thoughts of Zack to the back of my mind. I won’t let him control me anymore.
Heading back inside, the smell of alcohol and the low hum of the bar hits me. But all I can think about is Zack.
I still feel nauseous, the nerves from my secrets and Zack getting to me, and for a moment I pause in the kitchen, leaning over the rolling, industrial trash can.
“Hey! If you’re going to do that, you need to go back outside. You can’t do that here in the kitchen!” Miguel shouts, a large knife in his hand as he cleans shrimp.
“Sorry!” I sputter, feeling good enough to go back to slinging drinks. “I’m good, I’m good…I think.”
Zack and I were a mess from the start, chaotic, unpredictable. Our relationship had always been volatile. In the beginning, I thought he was just misunderstood, too proud, too stubborn, buthe would grow out of it. I thought he just needed time.
We met when I was nineteen, and he was twenty-four, both of us working at a grocery store together. Zack was older, with a cocky attitude that masked the vulnerability I didn’t know existed beneath. He was charming, and I was naive enough to think we’d grow together.
Zack had hurt his knee during his college football years and lost his scholarship. He always told me his goal was to make enough money to go back to college. He had big dreams of going pro back then, but that injury ruined it all.
But anytime I asked if he was going to start returning to classes, he’d always make excuses, blow me off. Then the bitterness started to creep in. I didn’t realize it at first, but looking back, it was obvious.
I had dreams, too, of a better life, of escaping the small-town rut, but he couldn’t see it. He just kept drinking, complaining about the life that could’ve been. I remember the day I finally told him,“You need to grow up. Get a real job. Do something that matters.”
That was the beginning of the end. He couldn’t handle it. And now? After everything we went through? He’s calling me like nothing’s changed. But everythinghaschanged.
I pull myself from the memory, knowing that I’m better off.
I don’t need to go back to him.
I pull out my phone again, trying to distract myself from the turmoil of the day. But then I see a missed call and a voicemail notification.
For a moment, my heart stops.
Could it be him? Could it be Zack, calling again?
I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the screen.
It’s probably better to check.
I press play, and as the voicemail starts, I hear the voice of a potential bride,“Hi, Blossom, this is Emily. I’ve been going over your portfolio, and we’d love for you to photograph our wedding on the eighteenth of next month. We’re having a small ceremony, but a big reception, and we were hoping you could fit us in. We were hoping to offer five thousand for the day if that works for you. Let me know as soon as possible!”
The words hit me like a wave.Five thousand dollars.I can hardly believe it. This is the break I’ve been waiting for, the opportunity I’ve dreamed about.
I hitcall backimmediately, my pulse racing.
“Hi Emily, it’s Blossom, I’m returning your call. I’m available on the eighteenth, and I would love to photograph your wedding. I’m so excited! Thank you so much for considering me. I can’t wait to work with you.”
I hang up the phone, smiling from ear to ear. This is a huge opportunity, and it feels like everything I’ve worked for is finally coming together.
I return to the bar, my head buzzing with excitement from the wedding gig. Amy’s wiping down the counter, but the moment she sees me, she grins.
“So, did you get the job?” she asks, leaning in a little.
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “Yes! I got it! Five thousand for one day. Can you believe it?”
Amy’s eyes widen in surprise, and she gives me a playful shove. “That’s amazing, Bee! You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard. We need to celebrate!”
We finish our shift for the night, and as the bar clears out and we start to clean, I can’t help but hum a little tune. I’ve always loved singing, but I never really do so in front of other people.
As I finish cleaning a glass, I catch one of the cleaning crew members smiling at me from the corner. He’s an older guy,always there to help after hours, and tonight, he looks up from his broom.
“You have a beautiful voice,” he says with a warm smile. “You should sing more often.”
