Page 1 of Boss Daddy
Tilly
Sitting on the floor in the center of my living room, I count through the cash left in my savings jar. $42.15.Great. If I didn’t need that damn car to get to work, I’d set it on fire. I’ll never get ahead at this rate.
I let out a sigh, stretching my legs out in front of me. “I am never going to college.”
Dropping the money back into the jar beside me, I let my head fall back against the couch. It’s old and worn, and it’s seen better days—just like everything else in my life.
“Get used to it, Tilly,” I say to myself. “This is obviously as good as it gets for you.”
Once upon a time, I had goals, dreams,aspirations. But that was before I found out that the college fund my grandparents had set up for me as a baby was emptier than the jar on my floor—thanks, Mom. When graduation came, the only hope I had to better myself was to get a job and save toward paying for community college myself. But two years later, we can see how that’s going…
“What’re you doing on the floor?” my mother grunts as she shuffles toward the kitchen, obviously hungover, cigarette dangling from her mouth, and an empty coffee cup in her hand.
I hide the jar beneath the couch and stand. If she sees me with money, she’ll take it. “I didn’t realize you were home.”
“Boss cut my shifts again,” she says, her back facing me as she mutters, “Why is there never any fuckin’ coffee made when I need it?”Probably because you’re the one who drank it…
I keep my job to myself, knowing it won’t get me anywhere anyway and try to keep on topic. “Why did he cut your shifts?”
She scoffs, sucking hard on her cigarette as she sets up the coffee machine to percolate. “A customer reckons I shortchanged him. And the customer is always right.” She rolls her eyes, blowing out a lungful of smoke as she puts the cigarette out in the sink and leaves it there. “What areyoudoing here?”
“My shift doesn’t start for another hour. I was just about to get ready.”
She nods, pulling out a fresh cigarette. “Rent’s due. Gonna need you to cover my half this month, or the landlord’s gonna kick us out. You know what he’s like.”
“Sure,” I say, eyes down.That’s my paycheck gone.I’ll be lucky if I can afford ramen after this, but it won’t be the first time. My mother has a habit of pissing people off. Hence why my college fund was empty by the time I needed it. She can’t hold down a job to save herself—or me. She has sticky fingers and a quick temper, two qualities most employers don’t tolerate for long. I’m surprised she hasn’t been arrested yet.At least that’s something…
I know I could leave. I know I could go somewhere else and start again, but where am I going to go? I have no money, no extended family; my car barely runs well enough to get me anywhere far, and even if I did leave, Mom would still hit me up for money… And I can’t say no to her. She’s family.
“You hear that bar on Main Street is hirin’ at the moment?” She clicks her lighter, the flash deepening the dark lines around her eyes, showing her age. “They need new girls.”
“Isn’t that one of those places where they dance on the bar?”
She nods. “Reckon you’d do real well swinging what God gave you up there.” With the fingers that grip her cigarette extended, she points to my breast and hip area, indicating my abundance of curves.
“I don’t want to get up and dance, Mama,” I say. “I don’t have the coordination.”
“Sure you do. And the tips will be a hell of a lot better than you get at that dive you’re working at now. You should apply.”
“I’m fine working at that dive.”
“Apply,” she insists, cupping my face in her hands. “Use what you have to your advantage while you’re still young enough to make money off it.”
“I would like to use my brain.”
She laughs, but it turns into a cough. And she steps back, angling away from me. I pat her back until it subsides, wishing she’d quit the smokes already.
“Sweetheart,” she says when she’s caught her breath. “I know you wanted better than this. Maybe this job is how you get it? Doesn’t hurt to try, right?”
“Fine.” I roll my eyes. “I’ll go down there and check it out. No promises, though.”
Mom smiles. “Good. Because electric is due in two weeks, and I doubt I’ll have the money to pay it.” She pulls the bill off the top of the microwave and hands it to me before she pours her coffee and leaves the room.
I look at the bill and sigh. Just like that, I know I don’t have much of a choice. I’m getting a new job.
