Page 64 of Unbelonging
I glared at him. "This is total bullshit."
"You really do have a potty mouth, you know that?"
With an effort, I choked down the bile and a whole bunch of profanity. "C'mon," I said, "you know exactly what I meant when I said dinner."
"Sorry," he said, "I guess you should've been more specific, huh?" He stood. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some calls to make."
My fists were clenched, and my heart racing. That asshat of a weasel had tricked me. I didn't know who I was madder at – him for doing it, or me for not seeing the loophole. I wanted to slap the smug look right off his face, but that wouldn’t do any good, well, except make me feel better.
I closed my eyes. No. I wouldn’t feel better. Because then, I'd be fired right now for sure. The only thing that would make me feel better was money, and I wouldn't earn anything standing around arguing with this idiot. I snatched the paper out of his hand and turned to stalk out of the office.
And I'm proud to say that I didn't let any profanity fly – well, not until I was out of earshot. Then, I focused on the tables I still had, and tried to pick up additional ones whenever I had the chance.
The sun was rising by the time I walked out of the restaurant's back door with aching feet and a sore back. Sometime over the course of the night, a cold front had moved in, lending a bitter chill to the November air.
Still walking, I was fumbling for my car keys when I stopped short at the sight of my car, still a couple car-lengths away. I stared at the passenger's side window, or rather, where it used to be. I hustled toward the car for a closer look. What I saw only made me feel worse.
Sometime during my shift, the window had been busted to smithereens, leaving bits of broken glass littering the shabby gray upholstery.
What the hell? I glanced around the parking lot. I'd parked behind the restaurant, along with the rest of the staff. As far as I could tell, mine was the only car with any damage.
Immediately, my thoughts turned to Brittney. She didn't know what I drove. Did she?
Reluctantly, I trudged back into the nearly empty restaurant and gave the remaining staff a heads-up. Then I called the police, who suggested I come by the station in the morning to file a report.
Didn't they realize itwasmorning? I glanced at the clock in the back room. In four hours, I'd be signing paperwork for my new job. Not a moment too soon. And I had a choice to make. I could spend those four hours either at the police station, relaying suspicions I couldn't prove, or I could return to the Parkers' and get a couple hours of sleep.
It was no contest. I trudged back to my car, used the sleeve of my quilted coat to brush aside stray bits of broken glass from the driver's seat, climbed in, and pulled out of the parking lot, praying that on tonight of all nights, the car's heater would actually emit some heat.
It didn't.
By the time I reached the Parkers' house, my hands and face were numb from the icy wind, and my feet weren't much better. Even my teeth were sore, probably from all the chattering, and yeah, maybe a little cursing, but I figured I had a good reason.
Inside the big house, I took a long, hot bath, dried off, dressed in some ratty gym clothes. Then I took Chucky for the shortest walk I could manage, just around the yard, and only long enough for him to do his business and return inside.
Crouching down with him on the kitchen floor, I promised him a longer walk when I returned from my appointment. But first, I needed to sleep at least a couple hours, or I'd be no good when I got there. The last thing I needed was to lose the job before I even got it.
Lying in bed, I broke away from what had become a pattern. I didn't fantasize about Lawton Rastor, his glorious body, or the things I wanted to do to it. Instead, I fantasized about telling Keith, Brittney, and the whole lot of them to kiss my frozen ass.
By the time I fell asleep, Keith was on his knees, begging me to stay, telling me he was the best waitress the diner had. I knew it was a load of crap, but I didn't care. I drifted off smiling, and unlike the nights I'd fantasized about Lawton, that night my panties actually stayed on.
Chapter 36
It was a fifty-minute drive from the Parkers' house to the company I'd soon be working for. Getting dressed for the appointment, I tried not to think about the broken window. I'd already checked the weather, and it wasn't looking good.
During the couple hours I'd slept, the cold front had taken a firmer hold, making me just a little more miserable as I considered my damaged car. I'd need to repair it, and soon, before winter settled in for good. But I didn't have time, and I wasn't exactly sure I had the money.
Sure, I had my tips from last night, and maybe a little bit of breathing room on my credit card. But that was it. I tried not to dwell on the extent of the damage, or how much the repair might cost. First things first, I told myself. Sign the employment papers and then worry about all that other stuff later.
When I dashed out the front door, I stopped short at the sight of someone in the driveway. It was Lawton. He was standing next to my car, peering into it through the broken passenger's side window.
He looked up when he saw me. "What happened?" he asked.
I was moving again, walking fast, head up, acting like it was no big deal. "As if you don't know," I muttered.
Yeah, I was being unfair. In truth, I didn't even know. Not for sure, anyway. But I had a pretty good feeling about my guess.
His eyebrows furrowed. "How would I know?"
