Page 4 of Come Around
The Summit is busy tonight, even for a Thursday. Rent is due in ten days. My car insurance payment comes out automatically next Wednesday. Then there’s groceries, utilities, and the student loan payment I can’t defer again.
Eight hundred and forty-three dollars. That’s what stands between me and homelessness.
I’ve been in Fit Mountain for three months now, and I’m still just barely treading water. Not exactly what I pictured when I left Connecticut and my parents’ suffocating expectationsbehind. The dream was to build a music career, not serve drinks to handsy men at a glorified adult playground.
But tips have been decent, which means I might actually make rent this month if I pick up an extra weekend shift. Not that I have much choice, considering my landlord just informed me yesterday that my rent is increasing next month. Apparently, living without hot water for four days straight justifies a price hike.
“Sami, I need three Macallan 18s for table twelve.” Clay leans over the bar and slides a handful of black gaming chips into the lockbox beneath the register.
As head of security, Clay runs a tight ship on all three floors of The Summit. I like him. He’s one of the few men here who’s never once looked at me like I’m on the menu.
“Coming right up.” I reach for the top-shelf whiskey, noting the black chips. “Big spenders tonight?”
Clay nods. “Oil guys from Texas. Just moved to the second-floor tables.”
The second floor. Where the serious gambling happens. Where cocktail waitresses wear even less than we do on the first floor. Where the tips are bigger, but so are the wandering hands.
I’ve turned down three offers to work upstairs since I started. The money is tempting, but I have limits. Serving drinks in a low-cut top is one thing. Doing it while men slip chips into your cleavage is another.
And the third floor? I don’t even want to think about what goes on up there.
I arrange the whiskeys on a tray and hand it to Clay.
“Here you go. Tell them to enjoy their overpriced alcohol.”
He almost smiles. “Will do.” Then he gives me a concerned look. “You okay tonight? You seem tense.”
“Just tired.” I roll my shoulders, trying to work out the knots. “Why?”
“You keep looking over your shoulder. And you nearly jumped out of your skin when that glass broke earlier.”
I sigh, wiping down the bar top with a damp rag. “My hot water’s been out for four days. Landlord says he’ll get to it ‘when he can.’ I’ve been taking ice-cold showers at 4 AM.”
“That’s rough.” Clay frowns. “You know, Ruby and I have a spare bedroom. You’re welcome to crash with us until it’s fixed.”
His kindness catches me off guard. I’ve met his wife Ruby a few times when she’s come to pick him up. They’re sickeningly in love in a way that should be annoying but is actually kind of sweet.
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. It’s just a few more days. Hopefully.”
Clay hesitates, still studying my face. “Is there something else bothering you?”
I debate whether to mention it, but Clay is head of security, and if anyone should know, it’s him.
“I think someone might have followed me to work today,” I admit quietly. “A black truck. It stayed a few cars behind me after I left the diner, then circled the parking lot twice before leaving.”
Clay’s expression immediately shifts to professional concern. “Did you get a license plate? Make of the truck?”
“No. Just that it was big and black with tinted windows. I lost them when I took that back road behind the grocery store.” I shrug, trying to look more casual than I feel. “It’s probably nothing.”
At least, I hope it’s nothing. The last thing I need right now is a stalker
“I’ll keep an eye out,” Clay promises. “And I’ll walk you to your car tonight.”
“Thanks.” I give him a grateful smile. As he walks away, I glance at the old-fashioned clock above the bar.
Three more hours until closing. Three more hours, and I can go home to my freezing cold shower in my overpriced apartment.
The front door swings open, letting in a blast of cool mountain air. I don’t look up immediately. I’m too focused on not spilling expensive vodka all over myself. But something shifts in the room, a sudden change in energy that makes the hair on my arms stand up.
