Page 8 of See Me

I narrow my eyes, hand still outstretched full of cash. “Are you testing my integrity?”

He doubles over laughing. “Oh, Blaze. You’re a people pleaser, aren’t you?”

“Maybe. Probably. Will you think less of me if I keep it?”

“Yes.”

I chew the inside of my cheek, knowing this cash will feed me for a few days. “How much less?”

Enzo turns and grins. “Blaze, I’m fucking with you.”

“I’m just… having a tough time right now.”

He rubs a circle on my back. “Want some company? Maybe forget about some things?”

“What?” I shrug his arm off my shoulder. “Jeebus, Enzo. I met you yesterday. I tell you I'm struggling and immediately you want me to jump in bed with you? Does vulnerability turn you on?”

“Not as much as your smart fucking mouth.” He turns to leave and starts walking down the back hallway.

“Where are you going?”

“Full disclosure? To walk off this boner.”

I laugh, surprising even myself. If I hadn’t spent all day with him and saw his good nature, I might be more offended. He was kind, patient, and constructive today. He was probably just trying to lighten the mood and change the subject for my benefit. Unless he really has a boner. That thought makes me smile again. Although, I’m probably giving him too much credit remembering some of the conversations I overheard today with female customers. The man is a walking pick up line.

I shake my head as I walk back to the kitchen to give the cook his share.

“Hey, Omar. Here’s your tipout.” I hand it through the service window.

“Thank you…”

“Ella.”

“Thank you, Ella.” He hands me a takeout container. “I had some chicken left over so I made you a salad.”

“You’re a lifesaver. I’m starving.” I tear the box open and grab a fork off a nearby tray. I take a bite and moan deep in my throat.

He watches me dive into the salad with a sweet smile on his face. “You like it? It’s a secret recipe.”

I take another bite before swallowing the first, “It’s amazing,” I mutter around a mouthful, etiquette training be damned.

The smile fades off Omar’s face when Luca enters the kitchen from a side door. He eyes me through the window. I snap the container closed and wipe my face with the back of my hand. I’m not sure if I should have paid for this. I don’t want to get Omar in trouble.

He makes his way to the center of the kitchen and stands with his arms crossed over his chest. “Make sure all the trash is taken out tonight. There was some in the can this morning. We don’t need rodents.”

Omar drops his eyes to the floor, a clear sign of who’s boss around here. “Yes, sir.”

You would think that response would be enough, but he doesn’t budge. His eyes find mine and I swipe the salad out of the window and duck into the locker room. I don’t have a lock yet but Enzo gave me an open locker to keep an extra change of clothes in. Which will come in handy since I have a few more days at the dorm and no one knows I work here. I change quickly and stuff my jeans and t-shirt into the locker. I have an extra pair of sandals in the car so I won’t have to wear my heels home. I sit on the bench and rub my aching feet before grabbing my shoes and walking out the back barefoot. I glance in both directions of the dark alley before creeping to my car. There’s been no word of any new murder victims popping up, but I’m still cautious.

Thoughts of where I’m going to be parking when I become homeless has bile rising in my throat.

I have no one to blame but myself.

I’ve been scoping out apartments and have found a few but it’ll take me a couple months to save enough for the first month’s rent and a security deposit. I’m thankful this is California, but the temperature is still going to drop into the forties at night. I may have to steal a few extra blankets from the dorm when no one’s looking. I still don’t know how I’m going to convince my friends I have a place but they haven’t been invited to see it.

Why am I so stubborn?

Am I really going to live in my car instead of asking for help? I don’t want them to know I’ve been lying about my family this whole time. My family has made me feel like an outsider my entire life. I can’t stand the thought of my friends pushing me out too. I wouldn’t survive. Which begs the question why I kept this from them for four years.

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