Speed walked to the bar and set down his serving tray, his arms shaking slightly. He took a deep breath then let it out, trying to get his nervousness under control.
It was his third night on the job and already he felt as if he'd stepped on a dozen toes. He'd gotten several orders wrong, had spillt a few drinks, and, in his opinion, being slow on getting to his customers.
"Everything going all right?"
He glanced up to see one of the bar's owners, a blonde-hair woman named Torie, gazing at him, concern shimmering in her eyes. Speed offered a faint smile and nodded.
"Yeah . . . everything's fine . . ."
'If I can just quit making mistakes.'
"Good," she nodded. "Can I speak to you please? In private?"
"Sure," he replied, his mouth suddenly going dry. For some reason, her request to speak with him in private sounded . . . ominous.
"You're not busy, are you?"
"No," he shook his head. "I was just going to make the rounds to my tables . . ."
"Ah. Okay. Well, as long as you have a moment . . ."
She motioned for him to follow her into the back, which he did. He watched as she sat behind the desk. Torie then motioned for him to take a seat.
"Okay, tell me honestly. Is everything going all right?"
Speed blinked then let out a heavy sigh. She obviously could tell that he was having a hard time so there was no sense in denying it.
"Not really," he slowly admitted. "It's proving to be a little more difficult than I first thought."
"And the pace is hectic, right? Something you weren't counting on, either?"
"No," Speed shook his head. "I wasn't expecting it."
"Most never do," she smiled, "especially if they've never worked in a bar atmosphere before."
"Yeah . . ."
"Just take your time, Greg," Torie stated. "The customers will be understanding. They'd rather you get the order right and take your time than you be quick and get the order wrong. Our customers are really cool about that."
Speed blinked at her words, a bit stunned. He'd been expecting the worst. Not this.
"You're not firing me?"
"No," she shook her head, laughing a little. "Why would I do that? The customers like you. They're just worried that you might be pushing yourself too hard."
"Oh . . ."
"Just try to relax and enjoy yourself while working, Greg," she smiled, rising to her feet. "You'll do just fine. You'll see. Now get back to work."
"Okay," he managed to smile back somewhat faintly. Before he left her office, though, he took another deep breath to calm his nerves. All he had to do was relax . . .
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Trixie couldn't help but laugh as she and a group of several of her co-workers/friends watched as Chip, their group leader, made a complete fool of himself. Intentionally. The guy was a veritable clown. Of that, there wasn't any doubt.
For a moment, she could pretend. She could pretend that things were, for the most part, normal. She could pretend that she was simply on vacation, enjoying time spent with some newfound friends. She could pretend that next week she'd be at some exotic location, gearing up for another big race.
Deep down, however, she was beginning to have her doubts. Trixie loved what she was doing, she loved helping people. But she was ready to go back to Farmington Hills. She was ready for the thrill of racing. Whenever she talked to Speed, though, (if she were able to catch him before he left his new apartment) he avoided answering her questions when it came to racing. He either became too tired or had to go because he was meeting some friends.
'I'll get my answers,' she thought as she watched Chip do something else that, no doubt, would be embarrassing to any other guy. 'Philadelphia, here I come.'
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"Are you sure about this?" Sparky swallowed, his eyes wide and his mouth unbelievably dry at that moment. Across from him sat Janine. She nodded.
"Yes. I'm very sure . . . what are we going to do?"
"I don't know," he murmured. "I never thought anything like this would happen."
"I know," she sighed. "I didn't, either. But it has . . . we can't just ignore this."
"Yeah," he nodded. "I know. We'll think of something. I promise."
'Speed, where are you when I need you?'