Page 3 of Crash and Burn
I'd thought about quitting half a dozen times in the last few months. I had bills to pay, and it was becoming harder to do that as time went on.
If it wasn’t for Grant…
It was stupid of me and I knew it. Staying at a dying job because of a boy? Ridiculous.
But every time I walked in, determined that today would be the day I quit, Grant would greet me with that soft smile. He'd ask about my day and sincerely listen to my answer. He would touch my fingers briefly when I got anxious about my future, or lay a comforting hand on my shoulder whenever I'd had a bad day.
And sometimes, when my attention was elsewhere, I could swear I felt his eyes burning into me.
Sometimes, when I caught him staring, he wouldn't flick his gaze away. He would simply flash me a smile.
It was enough to make my stomach flutter. To make my heart clench in my chest.
It was enough to keep me working here.
But I still hadn't worked up the courage to say anything to him.
Asking Grant out and having him look at me with that amused smile tinged with pity as he turned me down…
A lumpy mass of dread and humiliation swirled in my gut at the thought.
Grant turned his attention to a point over my shoulder and waved.
"Hey Manny," Grant said with a nod of his chin.
"Hey kids," Manny said as he walked in.
His usual easygoing nature was at odds with his dour expression. He came up to the bar, leaning heavily against the counter with a sigh.
"Lizzy, Grant, I hate to just lay this on you…" he shook his head sadly. "I've got some bad news."
My heart jumped to my throat as a terrible scenario filled my head. Was he cutting my hours? I could barely sustain myself as it was. It also meant I'd have less time to spend with Grant, which was almost as bad as the first thing.
But then Manny said something that froze the air in my lungs.
"I'm shutting down the bar."
* * *
"Another?"Grant offered with a shake of the vodka bottle.
I nodded miserably without words and held out my shot glass. He poured a generous amount into mine, then did the same with his.
We both sat on barstools side by side, leaning against the counter. He held up his glass in salute and I clinked mine to his before we both downed our respective drinks. I grimaced and shuddered. Grant didn't.
"Are you sure drinking our sorrows is the best way to go about this?" he asked after I'd recovered from the burn in my throat.
"We're losing our jobs." I tapped my glass impatiently, indicating I wanted another. "How else should we be dealing with this?"
The corners of his lips twitched upwards.
"By going home and updating our resumes," he said. "Hitting the pavement looking for new work."
"It's two in the morning," I pointed out. "We might as well enjoy the rest of our night, such as it is."
"We're not closing immediately," Grant said. "We've still got a few weeks."
A few weeks left to spend with Grant before we both moved on and never saw each other again.
