Page 71 of The Second Chance Year

The clown.The clown is standing in front of me, his too-wide painted-on eyes only inches from my face. I freeze as terror envelops me.Anything but the clown.His creepy gloved hands wiggle in my direction, and I back up, right into a table. I’m pinned. Trapped.

Again.

And then, like a trapeze artist sailing in, I remember who I am. I am Sadie Thatcher, and I don’t take shit from anyone. I am loud, and opinionated, and yeah, maybe somepeople would call me abrasive, but those are words they use for women who won’t go down without a fight.

And I’ll own them.

“Leave me alone!”I yell, rushing the clown like a defensive end and smacking my palms squarely into his shoulders. The clown teeters on his ridiculously large shoes, his arms windmilling in slow motion before he sails backward and lands on his padded clown-butt.

He stares up at me from his place on the floor, a stunned expression on his face, red gloves raised in surrender. I brush off my hands, take my time stepping over him, and then slowly walk out of the warehouse.

Chapter 38

Iride the subway back to my neighborhood, and, once again, I find myself swimming upstream through crowds of revelers carrying New Year’s party hats, noise blowers, and bottles of champagne. Out on the street, the buildings create a wind tunnel, but this time, instead of a flimsy bolero jacket and minidress, I’m in jeans and my warm winter coat, and the cold December gale doesn’t faze me. I should head to Higher Grounds; it’s after nine and the party will be in full swing by now. But I have one more thing to take care of, so instead, my feet turn right instead of left down Bedford Avenue.

Ten minutes later, I slip into the kitchen door at Xavier’s. The staff bustles around me, plating dishes and calling out orders, deep in the chaos of the New Year’s Eve service. A few people give me odd looks as I cross the kitchen toward the hallway leading to the office, or nudge each other and gesture in my direction, but nobody tries to stop me.

As I leave the safety of the crowded kitchen behind me and draw nearer to seeing Xavier for the first time since I rejected his advances and he gave my job to someone else, I start to sweat in my heavy coat. I still have dreams about that night in the pantry, still wake up shaking and wondering what I could have done differently. I haven’t really thought through whatI’ll do when I find Xavier, but I’ll never put that night behind me until I face him again, on my terms.

And then, before I can spend any more time going over it in my head, I turn the corner and run into him right there in the hallway.

His eyes widen and he takes a step backward, almost as if he’s afraid I’ll give him another shove like the one in the pantry. And believe me, I’m tempted. He wouldn’t be the first clown I knocked on his ass tonight. But I’m not here to assault him, as much as he deserves it. So instead, I say in a cool voice, “Hello, Xavier.”

He’s silent for a moment, looking me up and down, and then he huffs in disgust. “So, you’re slinking back here to beg for your job back,” Xavier sneers. “You think you can just walk out on one of the busiest holidays of the year and then show up like nothing happened?”

I should be angry at the nerve, the ego of this man, thinking I’d ever beg for this job back. Except that a year ago, Ididbeg for it back. I went and changed my entire life, relived an entire year, because I thought this man’s job, his recognition of me mattered more than my own pride and self-respect. I’ve come a long way since then. And as my friend the fortune teller says,I’ll never make that mistake again.

And with that, the tension leaves my body. I don’t need this confrontation. I don’t need to tell Xavier off, to make a speech, to make a point that he’s not evolved enough to understand anyway. This isn’t about him. It’s about me realizing I deserve better than this.

But before I can spin on my heel and walk away, he keeps talking. “Well, it’s your lucky day because we’reshort-staffed, and Rob Thurmond is here with a large party. For some reason, he seems to like you—” He follows that with another huff of disgust. “So, if you get changed and get your ass out there, I might not have you blackballed from every respectable restaurant in the city. And maybe if you do avery good job, I’ll let you come back to work.”

My skin crawls at the innuendo invery good job. And the absolute last thing I ever want to see again in my life is Rob’s florid face and beady little eyes.

But then I think of Rob’s hand on my leg and Xavier’s lips coming toward me. Of Kasumi enduring the same thing in silence. Of all the women out there in the dining room right now, serving Rob’s party or needing to stay late after work. I’m not special. If I walk out of here, it will be someone else who leans over to pour a glass of water and ends up with a hand on their ass. Or who goes in the pantry to refill the saltshakers and ends up cornered.

It turns out that a little confrontation isn’t looking so bad after all.

“Of course, sir,” I say with a smile. “I’d absolutely love to.”

An hour later, I’m in my server’s blouse, circling Rob’s table with a pitcher of water. I splash some into each glass and not a single person thanks me. I don’t think anyone even notices I’m there. It’s like their glasses magically filled themselves.

Rob is the exception. “Over here,” he demands with a wave of his hand. I approach cautiously, like he’s a burned pie I left in the oven, and quickly fill his glass. I can feel his eyes on me,sizing me up, and I brace for what he’s about to do, tightening my hand on the water pitcher in case I need a weapon. But then someone across the table calls to him, and he turns away to respond. I head to the bar to pick up a drink for one of the other diners.

As I stand at the bar waiting for the bartender to mix up my drink order, someone walks up behind me and grips my ass with a firm hand. “Hey, sweetheart.” Rob’s hot breath blows in my ear. “Get me a martini, will you?”

My entire body tenses, and I whirl around to face him. He’s standing so close I have to back up against the bar to keep his crotch from pressing up against my stomach. Rob rests one arm on the bar so I’d have to duck under it to escape. And even though I’ve been in this position before, even though I was expecting it this time, I’m horrified that it’s actually happening. I’m in shock that a man would have the audacity to treat a woman like this in a room full of servers, restaurant guests, and his friends. But he believes his power allows him to behave like this.

A sense of calm comes over me. I take a deep, cleansing breath and let it out slowly. “Did you say you wanted a martini?” I ask sweetly. I reach for the cocktail the bartender has just placed on the counter. “Here you go.” And then I pick up the glass, and I dump the contents all over his head.

And who would have guessed, but that’s all it takes to get his crotch out of my navel and his garlicky breath out of my face. He staggers backward, sputtering, right into a two-top where a couple is celebrating their first anniversary. The table tips backward, taking Rob down with it, and he lands with a crash in a pile of plates and glasses and three-tiered lemon raspberrycake. The anniversary couple spring to their feet as the entire dining room goes silent, all eyes on Rob flailing on the floor like an upended turtle in a puddle of lemon curd.

“Help me,” Rob croaks at the anniversary couple, holding out a sticky hand to the man towering over him in shock and awe. The man reaches out to help Rob to his feet as I approach.

“If you ever eventhinkof groping me or anyone else at this restaurant again,” I say, my voice rising sharply. “I’ll have you arrested.”

The anniversary man’s wide eyes fly from Rob to my angry face. And then his gaze darkens as it swings back to Rob. In the next second, the man opens his hand and lets Rob go crashing back down to the floor. I’m delighted to see his ass land right on a dessert fork.

At this point, Xavier has come running into the dining room. “Sadie,” he hisses. “I should have known you’d be involved in this. What do you think you’re doing?”

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