Page 3 of Flawless Foundations

She replies with a Jimmy Fallon GIF of him saying "maaaaybe." I chuckle and shove my phone back into my purse as I near Blush. With one last grumble, I pull open the heavy, frosted glass door and walk into hell. Plastering a fake smile on my face, I head toward the bar. I catch my manager Rick's eye and he doesn't hide his perusal down my body. His eyebrows knit together when he gets to my feet.

"Becca, you gotta be fucking kidding me right now. Those shoes gotta go, princess." There aren't many people in the place right now, but his words catch the attention of a few patrons, and they turn to look. I roll my eyes and sigh.

"Rick, enough with the nickname, already. And don't worry, I've got heels in my bag. I walked." I pass the bar as I reply and beeline it for to the backroom to change my footwear and store my bag. Did I mention Rick is a giant douche-bucket? He's newer... and well, he's a pompous ass and a constant thorn in my behind.

"You're one of those high-society princesses, Bex, why the hell are you walking and not using your driver?" Rick yells back, but I just ignore him and push through the swinging door to the kitchen and head down the hall to the small locker room.

"I walk because it's good for me, bish," I mutter under my breath. And for the record, I don't have myown driver... Ronald is our long-time family chauffeur.

I don't have time to tend to the gum situation before my shift starts, so instead of putting them in the small locker with my bag, I leave them on the floor. As I close the locker, my watch vibrates with a text. I look at it as I head back out front. It's from Marshal, asking about dinner tomorrow night. I've been seeing Marshal for a few months now. He’s six years older than me, he makes his money in acquisitions, I think. Honestly, I don't know exactly what he does. We don't talk much. This thing between us isn't complex, just a lot of expensive dinners and hot sex at his place afterward. It's more of a convenience thing, really. I write out a quick reply as I arrive back to the bar. Rick glances at my footwear but I ignore his snark and ask the two young women waiting at the bar what they're drinking tonight. I find that the less talking I do and the more I can focus on the drinks, the quicker the night goes.

By the end of the night, my grumpy mood has only progressed into something fierce. Not only was I hit on one too many times, which is par for the course, but I was propositioned multiple times by some forty-something sleazeball with a wedding ring on. Like, come on dude, take off the ring if you're trying to get laid by someone who isn't your poor wife. Ring or not, I'm not that kind of girl, so after politely declining, several times, I told him to get lost. Unfortunately, this particular exchange happened right in front of Rick, so I got a scolding about treating our customers right, and since we are an upscale establishment, we should try to make our customers feel comfortable. Whatever the fuck that means.

When I slide into the backseat of the Uber taking me home, I decide that it's time for me to figure out what the hell I want to do with life. Blush was great for the first few years, but damn, I'm over it. Being hit on by single and married men nightly, listening to rich people problems, and dealing with my slimy manager, it's wearing on me. I don't need this job, I don't have to keep showing up, but I like having a purpose, so maybe it's just time to figure out a new plan. This bartending gig is like the fucking wad of gum on my shoe. Clearly, it's time to move on.

Chapter 3

Becca

"You're living your best life right now, aren't you?" I drag my eyes from the television to the doorway of Emmy's bedroom. She must have just woken up as she's still clad in her pjs, and she's sporting some awesome bed head.

"You know it." I shove the last piece of chocolate-glazed donut into my mouth. I'm half sitting, half lying on the couch as I eat my Sunday morning breakfast. It's my weekend ritual. I set up a weekly delivery through my favorite donut shop and like clockwork, they deliver an assorted dozen to my door at 9 am every Sunday. I spread out on the couch and binge whatever show I'm hooked on. Right now, my guilty pleasure isThe Vampire Diaries.

"Oh, you saved me the strawberry one," Emmy says this like she didn't expect me to leave her favorite kind in the box. After pouring herself some milk, she brings her breakfast over to the living room and sits in the giant, overstuffed lounge chair.

"How was work last night? You've been working a lot of Saturdays recently, I thought you always got those off," she asks through a bite of donut.

Groaning, I sit up. "Yeah, new management doesn't seem to care about the requests and work schedules." Just thinking about work makes me salty.

"Ugh, that's stupid. You've been there for what, five years now? Don't you have some kind of pull?" Before I answer her question, I search around for the remote and press pause, I'm not about to miss some Salvatore brothers for a conversation about work.

"Things are getting rough. The new manager Joe, he's a giant douche."

"Do you think it's time to move on?" She's fishing, we've had this conversation before.

"Yes," I grumble.

She tries to hide her smile. "Do you think you'll find a new bar to tend or are you thinking it's time for a career change?"

Because she's my bestie and knows me better than anyone, I know she's the best person to hash this out with. "I'm thinking it's time for a change. A big one. I used to love my job, now I just hate it."

"What are you thinking? What about the blog? You love that, you're making a lot on ads still, right?" She's right. Glitz & Gloss is my passion project. I review makeup and hair products, and my videos on Facebook are starting to get quite a lot of views. I'm starting to get more and more free products to review. My blog is getting more hits with my top product lists and features.

"Yeah, it's doing really well, but unfortunately, it's not what you'd consider a real job. I'm not sure I'd be able to make a living off it. And you know my folks, they expect me to make my own money." I try my hardest not to roll my eyes.

Emmy doesn't hide her own eye roll. "Honestly, Bex, I think if you did decide to make Glitz & Gloss a full-time gig, you could totally make some money and it's such real-time job."

"I know, you're right. But I really love my little blog, and I don't want to risk hating it." Really, I just don't want to risk failing. Trying to make money off vlogging and blogging is tricky. Everyone and their brother are doing it these days, it's easy to get lost in the mix. Which leads me to my next question. "Em, is there anything at Envirogal open? I don't know, maybe in research and development? Or even the finance department? Maybe it's time to put my degrees to use?"

She pops out her bottom lip. "I really don't think we have any openings that would fit what you're looking for or would enjoy. But I will definitely talk to HR on Monday." I deflate a little at her response. Damn it. She was a great resource in the field I would want to work in since I clearly have to work.

"Oh, you should talk to Levi. King Cos is always hiring. They are just so much bigger than Envirogal. I'm sure he'd be able to find you a great job!" She's all excited about the prospect, she's also completely unaware of my distaste for her brother, Levi King.

Well, if she is aware, she does a great job of ignoring it. Just the thought of her tall, slender, dark-haired, brown-eyed brother makes me twitchy. Then of course, my next thought goes to the fact that he now lives just down the hall. Which means at any time, he could just show up. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that Emmy's relationship with her brother is stronger than ever. She deserves it since she has some of the worst parents, but I was as happy as a clam not seeing Levi on a regular basis.

I've known Levi King since I was a freckle-faced, braces-wearing preteen. We've always gotten along but were never friends. With him being two years older than us and seeing him being a nice big brother to Emmy, instead of an asshole like a lot of the other brothers in our social circle, I had it bad. My crush on him grew pretty quickly way back then. Unfortunately for me, that crush never really faded, but instead grew as the years went by. That is, until college.

It all ended one night in my Sophomore year. Emmy and I visited him at Harvard one weekend. He was a senior and surprisingly welcomed a visit from his sister. He took us out with a few of his friends to their local hang out and, well, let's just say I had a lot to drink. I decided with my liquid courage that I'd flirt a little. He flirted back, to my surprise and extreme excitement. Toward the end of the night, I thought I was actually getting somewhere. So, when I finally kissed him, I was in heaven. Until he pushed me away and told me I was drunk, and he'd never take advantage of a woman under the influence. Okay, so I can commend that. But drunk me just kept pushing until he delivered his final blow. "Becca, you're like a sister to me, nothing can ever happen between us."

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