Page 3 of Tiebreaker

“Don’t forget to pick that name you dropped up on the way out, we have a strict rule about cleaning up your own garbage,” I snap, because how dare he smile at me. He is so… rude! I turn away as his eyes flicker with amusement. Everyone is staring at me. He is too, that stupid look on his face, like he’s laughing at my insults.

Like they, likeI, haven’t even phased him.

I execute my escape. I disappear behind the curtain and try not to hyperventilate.

“Let me at least tip her,” I can hear him saying to Mariah as I lean over the sink and choke silently on air. “She’s funny.”

This is the reason I came to L.A. to begin with. I mean not really. Not… not to be yelling at rockstars or anything like that. I came because I wanted to make art and meet artists and be immersed in beautiful things. I wanted to be down on the beach every day and watch the sun melt over the water.

Instead, I’m stuck making minimum wage at a coffee shop. And now, I'm about to be unemployed because I can’t even hold my damn temper when I encounter an asshole. There’s a strange silence I don’t expect to hear. I peek out from behind the curtain.

Kai’s leaning in, smiling at my boss, saying words that I'm not even computing, and that's when I seeit. The $100 bill that he forks over.

She grins up at him, putting on her best charm and then he’s out the door, coffee in hand, the bell jingling behind him as he leaves. My spirits lift.

A hundred dollars! That is a lot of groceries. I could even pay my phone bill and prevent my service from being disconnected.

The curtain yanks aside and I step back. Her face is a storm cloud. I see it, that bill twisting between her fingers. As I reach for it, she yanks it back.

“Oh, I don't think so,” she says. “You have reports to do.” She gives me a smile. “And by the way, I’m keeping this and you should thank me because it's the only reason I'm not firing your sorry ass right now.”

She turns on her heel and walks away, every step sinking my heart lower and lower in my chest until it hits rock bottom. The computer beeps and I glance over at it as the printer starts to crunch and churn and run underneath the counter. Paper starts spitting out way too many copies of a week’s report and I realize that she didn’t just print one copy — she printed about a hundred.

One hundred seems to be like… my cursed number, or something. That’s a thing, right?

I turn back to the computer. It wasn't my hundred to begin with anyway. I wasn't even polite to him. But, for a split second, I'd had a sliver of hope.

Oh, well.That’s just my life, isn’t it?

I'm that girl who has everything for a split second, and then has it all taken back again. The universe giveth and the universeyeetethaway.

I gulp down my disappointment like a sour beverage, and reach for the reports. Maybe if I do them she’ll split the tip with me. Maybe.

Two

Kai

I’m not usedto being up at this fucking time of day. The coffee in my hand is hot and I have to admit that the barista made me laugh a bit, but it's the only thing that I got going that’s good for me. At least, for the next hour.

I can’t believe I’m back here again… I stare up at the tower, its glossy windows sparkling in the early morning sun like molten crystal shards jabbing at the sky.

Anyone passing by would think it's just another tower, just another skyscraper, just another company. An office building filled with people typing on computers, fucking in the copy room, getting on with business. But for me, it's like going back to prison. And maybe that’s because, for a short period of a time, this is where I lived. I won’t call it a home. It was the furthest thing from it.

It’s a pretty crystalline prison, and the top ten floors are an ode to masculine ego, with minimalist apartments outfitted with expensive fittings and furnishings for each of us…the heirs.

Ugh.

I walk toward the front door, and it's already open for me before I get within ten feet. Of course, they know me on sight. I’m a returning prince, a fallen knight, a prodigal son, and I’m coming back to the castle after doing battle. The doorman nods, pulling at his hat.

I make a face.

“Doesn’t that uniform get sweaty?” I ask as I walk by, breezing right into the lobby.

The doorman shakes his head but I can see that he’s stifling a laugh, trying not to smile.

“Do they pay you extra not have a personality?” I ask, the urge to needle at him rising up inside me like a fuckin’ tidal wave. He looks away and I don't know if I’ve pissed him off or made him piss himself. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck. It was probably the highlight of his day, though. The elevator bank is waiting for me and I begin the nauseatingly fast seventeen-second shot to the top.

To the executive suite.

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