Chapter 2- Satisfied and Unsatisfied Customers
I turn towards the white, eerie house, and pray that Charlie is not home. I have to get ready for work at the Johnson's Steakhouse. It's not my favorite place in the world, but I'd rather be there than at home, creeping around Charlie, making sure I'm not doing something wrong or I'll get punished for it. This is a better source of punishment. At least it doesn't physically sting when people yell at me at the restaurant.
I hold down my cap to prevent it from flying away, and drag my book bag behind me. I unlock the door, and tip toe into the house carefully. I peek in the garage instantly, and I let out my breath when I realize his Chevy truck isn't here. I run upstairs and lock the room, then throw my book bag in the corner. I put my baseball cap on the nightstand.
I'm in the confinement of my own sad company, and at the moment, it doesn't bother me. It's comfortably quiet.
I peel off my school clothes and get into my work outfit. I pull on my black skinny jeans, an uncomfortable, black tight button-up shirt with the steakhouse's stupid bull dog logo, and the girl's uniform shoes, a pair of bright red flats. I sigh as I look in the mirror. The girl there is uncomfortably pale, not pretty enough, and tired looking. Her lower lip is too thick from biting it time after time as a nervous habit. She has dark circles under her eyes and eyes too big for her heart-shaped face. It's odd. Bizarre. She looks like a... ghost.
I run cold water through my hair and neck, trying to calm my sudden anxiety. Right, I'm thinking about Charlie.
I take my phone and book bag, then head downstairs and am out the door. I lock the front door, and head down to the bus stop down three streets from Vixen. I won't think of him until I'm home, I've decided.
I finally reach Mystic St and on the next street is the bus stop. The bus is just getting there, thank God. I take the fifteen minute ride downtown and work on my homework, knowing I won't have any time later. I hop off and then walk five minutes to reach the restaurant. As I enter I realize it's flooded with people already. Handfuls of tables are full, and so are the booths. The atmosphere is busy and stressful. All the workers are here, I notice. Is there a special occasion I completely don't know about today?
I swallow back bile and try to calm my raging nerves, then head in to check in with my boss.
I ignore the belittling stares of the elder people at the bar as I jump swiftly behind the counter and wave at my only pal here, Jack. He's a cute, shy albino kid who goes to school in the reservation away from the urban side of town. Maybe that's where Alice and I should be going to school, not with a bunch of phonies at Forks High.
He throws me my black waitress apron and smiles. I nod at him and hurry out to the kitchen with him by my side. Don is already there, yelling at people to hurry up with the orders. Cue the anxiety. Don is a potbelly, old looking man, mid fifties maybe, bald, and characterized majorly by his beady eyes. He scares the shit out of me, terribly.
.
He shakes his head and cusses under his breath when he sees us standing in the doorway.
"Jack, table three needs you. Bella, about time you got here! The VIP table is growing impatient. Treat them well, they're our special guests. Go tend to them and then go to table eight. Got it?" Don shouts from across the counter. Jack scurries away, and I walk forward towards Don.
Wide eyed, I stutter and begin to hyperventilate.
"Don, I've never tended to a VIP, no one has ever taught me-"
He scowls at me and wipes sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief. The old lady in the kitchen pauses her work for a second, anxious to see what he'll respond to me.
He suddenly rushes towards me and lashes out.
"Did I ask you? Go do it and stop complaining!" he barks and shakes his head in frustration, practically spitting in my face. I wince but I don't dare move.
My stomach constricts in fear as I think he's going to push me out of his way, but he just mutters a low 'useless shit' under his breath and moves his ample self right past me. He then goes to sit with some customers at the front of the restaurant, faking embarrassment and apologizing for the scene. I glance up and away, embarrassed. I bite my lip and take a deep breath, then drag my sorry ass towards the VIP table. I'm more than a little nervous.
When I was in training, they taught me how to handle customers, what to do and say. They told me that I wasn't ready for tending VIP tables, so I stuck with normal, flowing chores, like cleaning the bathrooms or the tables. Then, they taught me how to ask for orders at regular tables. But these were VIP. Did I just ask if they want soda, or some fancy champagne I couldn't name? I'd memorized most of the menu without being asked to, thank god I had, but the VIP was obviously upgraded and changed too often to keep up. So did I ask, perfectly cooked steak with a rice pilaf, or a cheeseburger? And didn't I have to be sophisticated and shit for this?
Now, I'm just being pushed into something I have no idea how to do, and it isn't fair. How the hell is this right? I don't want to cry right now, so I blink away the tears in my stinging eyes. I put on my forced smile and pull out my note pad and pen.
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and approach the VIP table. Oh crap. Oh double crap. I think I'm about to pass out. I glance up at them, and realize how gorgeous the men are. But I'm not talking Professor Devon type of handsome. Or Mr. Darcy type of handsome. These guys are illegally beautiful. The Cullens, the silver engraved table plate says. I gulp back and attempt to clear my throat. This is gonna be harder than I thought. Rich, gorgeous fuckers. Great. As soon as I've seen them, I look down at my note pad, fearing I'll stare too long if I don't. I'm surprised I actually manage to speak with articulation. Sort of.
"Good evening, gentlemen, my name is Bella Swan, I'll be your server tonight. I'm sorry for the hold up, we were having...issues with the...staff. Would you like your menus now?" I ask uncertainly. Then, logic kicks in. No kidding, dumb ass, of course they want them!
I stare at my yellow blank notepad, too nervous to look at them. But once one of them speaks, I'm forced to look up.
"Yes, darling thank you." What seems to be the eldest of the men, an immaculate blonde guy probably in his late thirties, smiles warmly at me. I ease up fractionally. He has livid blue eyes.
"Alright, I'll be right back...with your menus." I bite my lip self-consciously and scurry off. Um. God. Why am I so awkward? I speed-walk to the kitchen without looking up at them. I shove the notepad in my pocket and grab a stack of menus. Did I even count how many of them there were? I peek over the counter subtly. One, two, three, four, five. Five of them, and they're all very good looking. Are they all Cullens? They don't all look related. In fact, it's the guy on the end of the table that looks like he's maybe just a friend, but he's cute too, pointy nose and blonde pony tail. The other two on the other side look very similar, except one is black haired and looks like the body builder type, while the other is simply lean and blonde, but I see the resemblance. They both look like the elder Cullen, who must be the father.
However, I notice the guy next to the blonde dad for the first time. Unlike the rest of them, he looks uninterested and blase. He's quiet and only nods or shakes his head when spoken to. But my oh my. He's undeniably the most gorgeous of them all. I mean they all are great looking. But he... The guy has a sharp jaw, a straight perfect nose, and plump lips. His hair is a copper, mahogany, almost golden-like perfect mess. His eyes...they're contemplative and mysterious. Almost tortured like. He crosses his arms in annoyance, and I see the obvious thick arm muscles protruding from his navy blue shirt. How did I not notice him before? Is he a Cullen? He doesn't really resemble the sons or their father, and most definitely not blonde ponytail. Maybe a friend or a cousin? I feel my legs weakening as I stumble back towards the men. Jack glances curiously at me from his table and smiles in encouragement. I give him a small forced smile, and then set the menus on the table softly. I cross my arms anxiously.
"Here you go, take your time. I'll be over there when you're ready."
"Thank you, darling." Cullen says and starts to distribute the menus.
I turn to leave but I make the mistake of looking up. Golden Boy isn't exactly sulking in the corner now, but staring inquisitively at me. Everyone else seems to be too enveloped into their menus, contemplating their options, but he simply takes his menu from the nice older man and then does something odd. He beckons for me. I try to keep a straight face, and walk around the table, then nod in recognition.
"Excuse me, ma'am, I know it's not really any of my business, but I was wondering... Are you not a bit too young to be working here? I mean, isn't it illegal to employ such a young person?" He smiles slightly, a corner of his mouth curling upward. Oh shit. I freeze up. His eyes are a vivid, mouthwatering green. Where is Alice when you need her?
All four heads snap up from their menus to peek up curiously at the boy. Whoa. It's like they're hearing him speak for the first time. Well, it's for sure my first time hearing him, because his voice is just...menacingly attractive. I wouldn't forget that voice if I'd heard it anywhere before.
He completely ignores the stares and so they go back to what they were doing. My breath stops for a second and I try to regain professionalism. I don't know if he's making fun of me or is genuinely curious with his..statement? Question?
"Err...no...sir. I am 17, and I only work part time. It's perfectly legal." I murmur, overwhelmed by his question. And his face.
He looks shocked for a moment, and then impassive. He nods in understanding. Whoa. How does he do that? He just went from looking curious to completely casual in a split second.
"Wow, sorry. You look extremely younger than 17, I'd no idea." He presses his lips in a fine line and shrugs.
What do you say to that? He's saying what, that I look ten? I stay silent, and look shyly down at my notepad. I can feel several pairs of eyes on me, and just when I'm about to leave, the eldest Cullen speaks up. He closes his menu and asks his table if they're all ready to order. They all nod. Golden Boy has not even looked at his menu I believe, but he nods anyway.
"Alright, my dear, I'd like your special of the day, the Teriyaki Steak Medallions, a Firecracker salad, and for dessert a carrot cake if you will."
I quickly scribble his order somewhat legibly and nod.
"Sure thing sir. Would you like dressing on the side for the Firecracker?" I glance up, finding it hard to not peek at Golden Boy but managing. The elder man nods and smiles.
"Emmett and Jasper?"
A honey blonde, handsome but seemingly arrogant man, looks up at me sourly and back down. Okay then.
Elder Cullen's phone rings. He glances at it and gets up immediately.
"I have to take this. Excuse me boys." He sounds uneasy and taps his phone to answer.
As soon as he's left, I start to feel even more uncomfortable. Arrogant face, body builder, and blonde pony tail mutter between each other. I hear the phrases 'fucking always busy' and 'screw him' as they scowl and shrug.
"She doesn't have all day." Golden Boy mutters, looking annoyed with everyone and crossing his arms, scowling.
Body builder laughs at something pony tail says and then turns to me.
"Babe, get me the Al Spring Steak quesadilla, a Filet and Lobster tail, easy on the coleslaw, and your famous John Fries." he smiles brightly at me, and I feel intimidatingly close to puking.
"Okay coming right up." I mutter, and look up expectantly at his friend beside him.
He smiles too sweetly at me, mockingly even, and says,
"I'll have whatever you recommend to me sweetie." He winks and arrogant face scoffs loudly. I quickly glance at golden, and he looks pissed off at his company. I bite my lip tightly and shrug.
"Um..I wouldn't know. I... I've heard the customers love the Spring Burger, and the Perfectly Grilled Salmon is always a huge hit." I mutter. He smiles and nods.
"I'll have both, thanks sweet heart." I cringe instinctively, hating the sound of that word so much.
Then, I turn to golden. He's staring again. He realizes it's his turn and straightens up.
"I'd like a classic grilled cheese and a caesar salad without the chicken please. Low fat dressing on the side." he bites his lip amused at something, and I gulp back, trying to write his order legibly on the stupid notepad.
"On a diet or something?" I mutter under my breath. Whoa Bella, where did that come from? It was so unlike me. I look up uneasily.
He looks up curiously at me, and I realize he's heard me. I peel my dull eyes from his deep green ones and clear my throat.
Arrogant face turns towards me and gets me out of my stupor.
"Kid, fetch me a golden salmon, double cheese fries, a double steak burger, and a triple chocolate cake for dessert. Make it pronto though, I'm starving. "Honey blonde snaps, looking bored with me even and running a hand through his hair. What a prick. And holy shit, all that for him? He's as skinny as my pinky finger, but what the fuck.
He looks at me expectantly. Pony tail snickers loudly.
I can't resist the roll of my eyes anymore. I'm so done with these handsome, stuck up fuckers. Well, two or three of them anyway.
"All that for you? Okay then." I mutter sardonically, and then bite my lip in worry as soon as I've said it. Golden Boy suddenly laughs loudly, revealing bright perfect teeth.
Oh no. Honey blonde narrows his eyes at me, and he startles me as his voice rises a few tones higher.
"Who the hell do you think you are? You're just a fucking waitress and your job is to serve. Bitch." He says, pounding his fist on the table, and my eyes widen hugely, taken aback by his response. That's not what I expected. Golden Boy stops laughing. Awkward moment of silence. I feel like I'm choking. Then Golden looks apologetically at me, shaking his head. The other two look wide eyed and amused.
"I..I'm so sorry sir. Forgive me, I didn't mean to-"
"Don't apologize. He should be apologizing. Jasper, get a grip. I get that you're basically a weeping mess over your break up but don't let it out on little Ms. Smart Mouth over here." he says, and arrogant face, who suddenly has a name, shoots a death glare to Golden.
Uncomfortable, I look around the restaurant, and to my dismay, I see Don around the corner of VIP section. Shit. In almost a rushed manner I put my notepad in my pocket for a moment and turn apologetically to Jasper.
"Look, I'm- really really sorry. I've had an atrocious day today, and my comment was completely uncalled for. Please don't say anything to Don. I need my job to make ends meet. Please." I beg him, whispering even, scared for my miserable life. The brothers' expressions turn less amused, but Jasper shoots me a cold glare. Golden furrows his brows in dilemma, as if torn between a decision.
I don't know if I should apologize again or leave, but I'm on the verge of freaking out. To make matters worse, Don comes over with a champagne bottle in hand and Elder Cullen returns from his call. They greet animatedly and he sits down. Don looks curiously at me.
Gosh, I'm so screwed. I finish scribbling their orders, and turn towards the kitchen,wanting to get out of their as soon as possible, but once he sets the champagne bottle down, Don grabs me by the waist and twists me towards the Cullen table.
I gasp in shock and turn back unwillingly to their table. I hold my breath.
"Oh there's my favorite guests! How are you gents doing so far?"
"Very well, thank you." Golden says with a clenched jaw. I can sense Jasper's glare.
"That's wonderful. Finally back in town eh?" Don exclaims loudly, still not releasing me. Who the hell does he think he is? Why won't he let me go? I try to control my fast, shaky breathing and not freak out. I look at him again, and he looks pokerfaced as his eyes trail down to where Don is grabbing me.
"Don Johnson, very pleasant to see you again, I've heard excellent things about the business." The father of the Cullens says.
"Oh I thank you for the flattery Mr. Cullen. How is my Bella treating you? Isn't she a beauty? Bella, I'd like you to meet Carlisle Cullen, Jasper and Emmett Cullen, James Madison, and Edward Cullen."
I'm acutely aware that he is gripping my waist too tightly, and I try to subtly pull out of his grasp, but he ignores me. I exhale my ragged breath through a clenched, fake smile.
He takes the notepad I'm clutching and passes the orders to Jack, who's cleaning tables beside us. Um. What. I mouth an apology to Jack, and turn back to the Cullens.
"Err...pleasure to meet you properly." I nod, and relax as Don releases my waist. Carlisle smiles charmingly at me, Emmett and James leer, Jasper doesn't even try, and Golden Boy, or as a matter of fact, Edward looks confused but smiles forcefully too.
And then I die of humiliation as Jasper speaks.
"Well, Don I think you could have picked us a better waitress, but she's fine. I'm curious how long has she been here?" Jasper crosses his arms as he speaks to Don. My heart is hammering.
"Jasper, what in the world are you talking about?" Carlisle scolds, turning to Jasper, puzzled.
"Oh, I'm just wondering." Jasper adds, his eyes fake with interest. My stomach sinks. Don looks briefly at me and gives me a death glare. He forces a laugh to ease the moment and says,
"Oh well she's been here for..what six months? She is young, and a little naive but she does her job alright. Why do you say? Has she done something wrong?"
I bite the inside of my cheek and look imploringly at a smiling Jasper.
Suddenly Edward laughs and breaks the tension. Carlisle looks confused.
"Oh Jasper, my pal, always making such silly questions! Hey, why don't you bring us some red cider Don, will you? And Bella, dear, check on our food, we're starving." Edward smiles brightly, trying to get everyone to ease up. Don narrows his eyes at me, smiles at the Cullens, and heads towards the kitchen. I sigh in relief, and mouth a quick thank you to Golden...err Edward. The four men are staring in stupefaction at him.
I speed-walk my ass out of there, and go check on their orders. I take a moment to breathe deeply and pause to get a grip. Jack comes in with a plate cart and taps my shoulder.
"You okay, Bella? I haven't seen you this tense for a while now...Is it Don?" He asks sounding sincerely worried. I force a smile, shake my head, and grab the trays and plates from the chefs counters. I check to see if they're all correct. Wouldn't want to mess up any further.
"Jack, I'm fine. I'm just a bit tired. Don't worry about me." I walk around him, and pass the bar back to the VIP table. Don't mess this up. Don't mess this up. I force a smile, hand everyone their corresponding plates, and take extreme attention to prevent dropping food on anyone, no matter how much I'd like to. I ask if they need anything else. Carlisle dismisses me kindly and I relax. Whoa. Close one.
I sense Jasper's piercing glare, and I'm sure he's questioning whether or not I spit in his food. I guess he thinks it through, and realizes I was serious when I meant I needed my job, because he actually starts to eat.
They are all digging in before I know it, and so I go to table eight, on the opposite side of the VIP section. Thank God. I glance once at Edward, who is eating his salad slowly and uninterestedly. Fuck. Stop looking over there and focus on what you're doing, Bella.
I tend to several other tables and help my co-workers tidy up the counters, the tables, and around the bar. I don't feel comfortable close to the bar, where a bunch of drunk old men and occasionally women sit howling with laughter rather loudly. Going in there to work must be like a death trap. I wonder how Nate the bartender does it.
I'm one of three girls working here, Manda and Lenny being the other two. They are twins. The extremely bitchy, stuck up, blonde drama queen type of twins, who always complain and somehow have convinced Don to let them cut their uniform shirts so half their cleavage is hanging out for the public to see. They should stop working here and go apply for Playboy. The restaurant is suppose to be family friendly, ya know.
I completely try to avoid any interaction with those two. They're sitting looking pretty at the bar tables pretending to clean with rags, when I hear them talking about the Cullens. Inevitably I'm intrigued, and although I really shouldn't care, I go around the table I'm thoroughly cleaning to eaves drop.
"Oh definitely. I'm glad they're in town. Who knows what will happen with them back." They gossip quietly.
"Ooh, what if they throw a completely amazing homecoming party again! You know how their parties are. It would be so much fun!" Manda exclaims, looking over at their table again.
"Indeed. I call dibs on the weight lifter, and seconds on the adopted one." Lenny squeals, looking over to the table and sighing deeply.
Manda pouts and slaps her arm with her cloth
"Ugh yes! Imagine what sex would be like with the big one? But ugh, imagine his brother.." she says in a dreamy like voice.
"Who, Edward Cullen? Well, yeah. But honestly Len, they say he's completely antisocial, like he just hates everyone. You know that Washington Times magazine model? He dumped her because she cheated. When women cheat, it explains a lot about a man's skills in bed." she mutters.
Lenny sighs and caresses her lips with her manicured claws.
"Well, sure, but like, look at him. One can still dream, Mandy."
They smile and sigh deeply,looking towards the table, and then throw the table cloths playfully at each other. Attention whores much? Then, they notice my proximity, and glare at me.
"Ugh, let's go see if Johnny needs us." Lenny rolls her eyes at me and they push past me. I inhale sharply as I feel them graze my bruised arm roughly. I am so fucking tired of them. I glare at the two trollops, and roll my eyes.
Stop stalling. I feel guilty that I've learned a little bit about them, and hesitantly turn back to the VIP table. Don is laughing loudly, and Carlisle Cullen and the rest look slightly uncomfortable. Edward is nowhere to be seen. They seem to be engaged in a deep conversation, so I hesitate and turn towards the table beside theirs. It needs cleaning anyway.
I stop myself from looking around the restaurant like a loser and get to my task. I turn towards the kitchen with a tray in hand but unexpectedly, I crash into a hard body and I gasp as the tray goes flying and a lemonade jar splashes over his body. I'm assaulted by a delicious aroma and I realize it's some sort of cologne. Whoa. My heart stops as I realize who I've knocked into. Edward steadies me, and I realize his sweater is soaked in lemonade. Oh no.
"Whoa there. You okay?" He asks, gripping my forearms. I freak out. He's nearly a foot taller than me and I'm staring at his chest and my palms are gripping fistfuls of his shirt and he's wet and he's asking if I'm okay and oh lord I'm gonna pass out. Too fucking close for comfort.
I let go of him instantly, nod and scurry to the floor to pick up the ice and the broken jar. Curious onlookers start to peek at us. I can see the Cullens and Don are aware of the commotion. Don is scowling. Edward helps me pick up the pieces of glass and I start mumbling nonsense. He puts a hand out as to stop me from cleaning.
"Don't touch the glass, hold on." he mutters. Um. He doesn't sound pissed. I watch, entraned as he carefully picks the glass from the mess and puts it on the tray.
"God, I'm really...I'm sincerely sorry. I told them not to let me serve VIP tables because I'm a total klutz and I knew I'd mess this up..."
We stand and he hands me the tray full of glass. I take it from him and apologize again, trying to not focus on his sharp jaw or his beautiful eyes, and shake my head.
"I'm really clumsy, especially on Mondays. Forgive me, I'll...pay for the dry cleaning." I gesture at his stained blue sweater-shirt and then look at the spilled lemonade all over the floor.
"Relax, it's fine. It's not going to kill me." I look up at him, uncertain of what I'm hearing. He's serious?
He's actually smiling. That bright smile. I stare for a second too long and nod.
"I- really?" I wait, and he looks like he's not kidding.
"O...kay. Um..."I wait, awkwardly. He's just...staring. What? Is there something on my face? Subconsciously, I decide I should probably start to tend to this mess.
"If you'll excuse me. Uh...sorry again." I stare at him for a minute before taking the tray past him and heading straight for the mop. Lenny sits with a magazine in her hands and sneers at me.
"Couldn't go a night without trying to get attention?"
I roll my eyes and go back out to clean up the mess I've made. I glance at the Cullens and notice him staring at me from his table. He looks entertained. I blush. Oh what a fail Bella Swan is. I'm so embarrassed. He's sitting there with a wet shirt and it's because of me.
I escape to the bathroom and close my eyes for a moment. Breathe, breathe. Alice would say. Okay.
I head out and realize they are getting ready to leave. I don't know if I feel completely relieved or...disappointed that I had to screw it up in the end. I avoid looking at Edward altogether and thank Carlisle.
"Thank you. I hope you have a good night." I mutter curtly as they stand to leave.
"Thank you darling, you too." Carlisle says with a huge smile. He pulls on his jacket, and walks around with the boys. Oh lord. I glance at the table. Carlisle has left a fifty dollar tip. Emmett and James smile and nod at me, then turn to leave. Jasper shrugs on his coat, narrows his eyes at me and stalks past me without a word. I bite my lip hard. Um.
Edward pulls on his leather jacket on top of the soaking wet shirt, and I blush. He grabs his wallet and gets out a fifty . He hands it to me, and I look up at him, stupefied. I'm shaking my head reluctantly, and he smiles down at me, shrugging.
When he realizes I won't take it, he slips it into my unmoving hand, and grins. What the-? He doesn't let my hand go. My hand is buzzing with electricity, and I don't know why.
"You were great. Ignore Jasper, I usually do." He smiles widely. I gently take my hand away from his, and nod slowly. I'm too stunned to speak. 100 dollars as a tip? Holy shit.
He looks at me a moment longer than necessary, and finally walks past me. That aroma. I'm left dizzy, and I'm not sure if it's his delicious cologne or the fact that Carlisle and he just did that. Holy shit. I stare after the Cullens, and stare stupefied at Edward as he looks once over his shoulder at me. He seems to be chuckling and then they are gone. Wow. I feel...goofy and... frighteningly girly for a second.
I take my tip money, balance their empty plates in my hands, and head to kitchen. I don't let the prissy looks from Barbie 1 and 2 ruin my mood. I put all the dishes in the dishwasher and I start to feel a bit optimistic for a moment, because it's the biggest tip I've ever had. This means I'll be able to buy something for Alice. Her birthday is coming up.
But then Don has to walk in and ruin my evening. He calls out for my name.
"Bella! In my office!" He yells from his corner deeper into the restaurant, and I hesitate. My stomach trembles and I feel faint. What's he gonna reprimand me for? Did Jasper tell him about my comment while I was gone?
I hurry in and nervously bite my lip, clutching my form tightly in defense. He walks in behind me and I am alert. He sits across me on his metal chair and shakes his head.
He looks angry. Disappointed. Pissed. I wait anxiously. He doesn't even tell me to sit down.
"Swan, you can't seem to do anything right. I'm frustrated, I'm disappointed, and I need to let you know... You are off the hook. Sorry kiddo." He shrugs, and bile rises in my throat. Is he... is he firing me? I freak out in panic.
"What?! Don, no, please. Don't do this. I...need this job. Please!" He shakes his head and stands, slamming his hand onto the desk.
"No, that's it! You were terrible with the VIP guests, Jasper Cullen complained about your waitress skills, and to top it off, you spill lemonade all over Carlisle's son. You are useless here. I can't employ someone who can't do anything right. We're through."
I try to compose myself but it's useless.
"Please Don! Please! Charlie's going to kill me! Here-" I retrieve the 100 dollars the Cullens left me from my apron pocket and explain.
"Carlisle thanked me and tipped me fifty bucks. Then his son tipped me another fifty. He told me I did great. It was my first time, Don. And I got tipped well. I'm sure I can improve with a bit of time and I won't disappoint. Please, just...let me keep my job. I need it, so badly." I can feel the tears running down my cheeks already, and wipe away shamefully.
Don's fury eases infinitesimally as he sees the money, and he narrows his eyes. He snatches the money and counts it. He sighs, and smiles a yellow greedy smile. He inspects me for a moment as I sit there spilling my eyes out. He finally shrugs.
"You know what, whatever. But you better learn quick, kid. I'm done with chances. This is your last. Be warned." he points his sausage finger at me.
I sigh in relief, wiping at my face.
"Thank you, thank you, so much. Thank you." I get up quickly, and bite my lip really tightly as I watch him shove the money in his desk drawer. His greedy smile fades. He glances up at me and scowls.
"What now?" he asks, annoyed. I stutter, and wrap my hands around my waist.
"You're keeping the...tip? I worked hard this whole time-" He slams his meaty hand down on his desk loudly, and growls. I jump, frightened.
"You want the job, right? Get out!" he points at the door, and I look down, feeling insanely aggravated.
The bastard is so unfair. I worked hard today, and he just...keeps my tip? He sits there, doing nothing, chatting with the customers and barking orders, so why should he? I hold back the sobs, and rip the waitress apron off. I shove it into the employee cubbies, and ignore the pestering looks of my co-workers. Yes, they probably heard every single word from our boss' office. Barbies are probably going to laugh about it for the rest of my time here.
I'm the youngest worker at the restaurant, and Don for some reason has chosen to antagonize me the most. I admit, I'm not a brilliant cook, or at cleaning impeccably, or perfectly articulate when speaking to clients. But is it bad enough to fire me? The Barbies over there read magazines eighty percent of their time here instead of working, and they still get to keep their pretty tips.
My head hurts. I collect my purse, pull on my cap, and walk out the back door of the restaurant. I don't even say goodbye to Jack tonight. As soon as I'm outside, I start sobbing uncontrollably. It's begun to drizzle, and I know it's about to pour hard. My jacket is at home, unfortunately. I wish it was here with me. I wish Alice was here with me. I don't want to go homea nd deal with Charlie. Not tonight. I've had a particularly bad day, and if he's drunk...that means worse for me. My tears are flowing freely now, and I clutch my purse tightly, running all the way to the bus stop. I've never been a really religious person, but right now I can't help but pray that Charlie isn't home so I can escape to Alice's place. I need to be with her right now. I'm lost, confused, and I'm desperate for comfort.
When I make it to the bus stop, I'm soaking wet, and my cheeks are stained from my incessant tears. The people around me scrutinize me like I'm some clown freak as I plop down in the corner glumly. I force up my damp auburn hair into a ponytail and pull it under my hat, then glance down at my phone. It reads 6:30 pm. Charlie usually comes home at about 7:30, but when he's running late it's usually 8:45. I don't want to think about what's in store for me. What if Don calls Charlie and tells him about today? Charlie will flip out.
When I hop off the bus it is still pouring hard, and I start running the five streets down to Vixen St. I contemplate going to Alice's place right away, which isn't that far from Vixen, but I have to check if he's home first.
Running clears my mind, it doesn't let me think too clearly about the pain Charlie's belt will cause, or the pain of being shouted at by everyone, pushed around, laughed at, or ridiculed. It numbs the pain of my mother's death, and the pain of feeling like a nobody. It numbs the loneliness and the heartache. The hunger pains I feel suddenly at times. When will it all end? I slow to a walk as I reach the white eerie, now long-familiar house. I sniffle and rub at my face. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of noticing my tear-stained cheeks.