Page 112 of Crimson Desires

“Aster, is that you?”

I smiled stiffly as I stepped up to the front podium at Greg’s bar. Kimmy was standing behind it. In the past four weeks, she hadn’t changed much, save for a haircut.

I don’t know why I expected her to look different in just a month’s time. Maybe because I had changed so drastically over the past month—it felt weird to realize that everyone else had probably stayed more or less the same.

“Hi, Kimmy. Is Greg in today?” I asked.

According to Melinda, Dad’s discharge wasn’t going to be until much later in the afternoon. After spending most of the previous night laying restless in my bed looking through my pictures and videos from the tour, I decided this morning that I needed to do something productive to get my mind off Wicked Crimson.

Something to help me accept that the adventure was over—and that real life was back in season.

That’s how I concluded that I needed to get my job back. Even though Greg had fired me, I was almost certain that he’d be willing to put me back on the payroll if I groveled enough. To nobody’s surprise, he tended to have a rotating cast of waitresses. Other than me, Kimmy was the longest that anyone had ever stayed working at the bar, and she’d only joined the staff seven months ago. And if the HIRING sign posted in the front windows was any indication, it didn’t seem that Greg was especially overwhelmed with applicants.

“Yes, he’s in. But first...” Kimmy skipped out from behind the podium and gave me a rib-crushing hug. “God, Aster, I’ve missed you so much! I’ve been seeing pictures of you everywhere online! I can’t believe you toured with Jack Maverick! I can’t believe you went on a date with Jack Maverick. And After Aster is so good. I’ve been listening to the recording from the Charlotte show like, nonstop.”

My heart squeezed. I didn’t have it in me to tell Kimmy the truth about Jack’s relationship with me.

“It’s been crazy,” I agreed.

Kimmy pulled away from me. “Go on back to Greg’s office. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

“That bad?”

“He’s gone through three girls in the past four weeks trying to replace you, Aster. You tell me.”

I grinned. Maybe I wouldn’t have to grovel that much after all.

I knocked on Greg’s office door.

“Come in,” Greg said gruffly.

I opened the door and stepped in. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw me. Greg scrambled to rise from his seat. He braced himself against his desk with his hands. “Aster. Jesus Christ, it’s you.”

“Let’s cut to the chase. I’m here for my job back.”

Greg composed himself slightly. He stood up straight and scowled at me. “I thought you were taking on a new career as a roadie. Did that not pan out?”

“It was a contract job,” I said simply. “Now, I know you fired me. But I also know that I’m the only waitress in Boston who’s willing to put up with your bullshit for more than two weeks. So, unless you want to keep hiring and training waitresses that refuse to stay, I would take me back.”

Greg looked like he would’ve killed me—if only I hadn’t made such a good argument. He took a deep, agitated breath. “When can you start?”

I smiled, victorious. “When’s your next open shift?”

“Four days from now. I’ll put you on the schedule for six.”

I thanked Greg, then left his office. I walked back to my car and sat in the driver’s seat. There was a strange hollowness in my chest. A cavity that could only be described with a four-letter word: loss.

I thought that after I returned from the tour, I’d be able to resume “life as normal” right from where I’d left off. I thought that I’d be relieved to return to the monotony and rhythm that came with the familiar. Instead, I felt more out of place than ever.

It almost felt like I’d grown out of my own life.

And like trying to fit into a too-tight shirt, the fabric could only stretch so much before it tore.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jack

I stared, slack-jawed, at the face on Ava’s tablet.

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