Rebelonging (Unbelonging, Book 2) (3 page)

I looked up. Slowly, her eyes met mine.

Her voice was quiet. "What's that?"

I shoved the bracelet back in place.
"Nothing." I felt my eyes water, just a little. Damn it. I gave a
quick shake of my head. I wasn't going to do this. Not now.

I summoned up what I hoped was a smile.
"Weird cooking accident." I gave a quick wave of my hand. "Long
story, you don't want to know."

"Oh." She frowned. "Okay. Well, if you ever
want to talk--"

"I don't. But thanks."

I picked up the tray too fast. The sundaes
wobbled dangerously, clinking and slopping globs of fudge over the
sides. This was just great. They now looked nothing like their menu
picture. Talk about a mess. Me
and
the sundaes.

Before Josie could say anything else, I
turned and plunged into the dining area.

On autopilot, I made my way through the maze
of tables and booths. Cooking accident? Seriously? Was that really
the best I could do? Maybe I
was
a ditz.

Silently I delivered the sundaes. No sass. No
attitude. Probably no tip either. Leaving the table, my breath was
coming too short and too fast. I tossed the empty tray on a dirty
table and ducked into the crowded ladies room.

I dove for the farthest stall and locked the
door behind me. I leaned against the cool tile wall and closed my
eyes. I had three hours left. Damn it. I so needed the money. If I
were smart, I'd make every hour count.

I wouldn't think about Keith. And I
definitely wouldn’t think about Lawton.

It was Lawton's fault I'd been late for work.
And it was his fault that Brittney was out to get me. Finally, it
was his fault that I was having a hard time holding it
together.

He'd stolen my heart, and then smashed it to
pieces.

That fucker.

I wrapped my arms tight around myself and
made a solemn vow. For the rest of my shift, I wouldn't think about
anything except my job, and making up for lost time.

I
could
do this. I
had
to do
this. I took several deep breaths and thought happy thoughts – the
feel of sunshine on a warm, spring day, the smell of an open
campfire, the sound of Lawton screaming as I whacked him with a
baseball bat.

In real life, I'm not prone to violence. And
the odds of Lawton actually screaming were slim at best. But hey,
they're called fantasies for a reason. When I ditched the bat for a
tire iron, the screaming seemed a lot more genuine.

Ten minutes later, I left the stall just as
shaky, but a lot more determined. Miraculously, the restroom had
emptied, giving me more privacy than I had any right to expect.

I stood alone in front of the long mirror and
made myself smile. It felt fake and foreign, and no matter how hard
I tried, it never did quite reach my eyes.

But a stranger wouldn't know the difference,
right? Besides, I didn't have to be cheerful, not exactly. I only
had to be entertaining.

For once, I thanked Heaven and Earth that
this wasn't your average waitressing job. If I had to be perky
right about now, I'm pretty sure I'd end up killing someone.

With that stiff smile plastered in place, I
left the restroom, grabbed a fresh tray from the waitress stand,
and hustled to my next table. With an overblown sigh, I plopped
down into an empty chair.

"So, how's the food here?" I asked. "Anyone
got a menu?" I looked around. "I'm totally starving." I glanced at
the woman's purse. "Hey, got anything to eat in there? Gum?
Chocolate?" I leaned closer. "A pizza?"

This time, my intro was technically true. I
really
was
starving. How many hours had it been since I'd
eaten, anyway?

But the couple laughed, and eventually I took
their order. Soon I was delivering their drinks. After that, it got
a little easier. It got easier still when Keith disappeared into
his office in the back. If I were lucky, I wouldn’t see that weasel
– or his squid – for the rest of the night.

An hour later, I was finally getting into a
groove. The place was swamped with the after-bar crowd, which was
probably all for the best. Running from table to table and juggling
too many things to count, I could almost forget my life was a
walking disaster zone.

But then, Keith made his first move.

I was at the waitress station, processing a
credit card payment when Keith emerged from the back office.
"Alright," he announced, "time to send one of you girls home."

Next to me, Josie's jaw dropped. Mine too.
Outside, the line was scary long. Inside, every table was taken,
either with actual customers or stacks of dirty dishes as the lone
busboy struggled to keep up.

"What?" I stared at him. "Why?"

"Because we're overstaffed, that's why."

"You've got to be kidding," I said.

His gaze narrowed. "You think I'm out here
for the fun of it, is that it?"

I snorted. "I'm surprised you're out here at
all."

"Hey!" he said. "You wanna compare jobs?" He
looked down at my skimpy uniform. "Well
mine's
a little
harder than dropping off food and shaking my ass."

As someone who'd actually seen his ass, I
sincerely hoped he wouldn't be shaking that thing at anyone.

Next to me, Josie pointed toward the dining
area. "But we're totally slammed," she said. "Look at this
place."

He gave the dining room a cursory glance.
"Not according to sales figures," he said. "Do I need to remind you
girls? It's calculated by receipts, not customers."

I glared at him. "So?"

"So," he said, "if you wanna justify the
manpower –" he smirked "– or should I say girl power, then maybe
you should work a little harder at suggestive selling, huh? "

"Hey!" Josie said. "I suggest the shit out of
stuff."

His jaw clenched. "What'd you just say to
me?"

Josie rolled her eyes. "Fine. Crap. I suggest
the
crap
out of stuff. It's not my fault if people don't go
for it."

"Yeah," I said. "And besides, we can barely
keep up as it is."

He turned to smile at me. "Then you'll be
happy to know that you're the girl who's going home."

My mouth fell open. "What? Me? But I just got
here."

Was this his way of firing me without firing
me? I'd dealt with him before. Agreement or not, he always found a
loophole.

I felt my jaw clench. I still had that photo
of him with Brittney. Maybe I needed to find a loophole, too, like
a billboard off I-75.

Next to me, Josie spoke up. "Alright. Fine.
Whatever. But if someone needs to go home—"

"It'll be Chloe," Keith snapped. "Not
you."

Josie was glaring at him now too. "I was
going to say Sonya."

"Oh, so you're making these decisions now?"
Keith said. "Last time I checked, I was the manager, not you."

"But have you
seen
Sonya?" Josie said.
"She's not looking too good."

"Nice try," Keith said, "but I think your
little friend can speak for herself."

"What little friend?" I asked. "Me? Or
Sonya?"

"Doesn't matter," he said. "
You're
the
one leaving. First in, first out. Just like the manual says."

"But I was here
last
," I said.

"Only because you were late."

"But Sonya's been here since noon."

"That's the day shift," he said. "Not my
problem."

"But—"

"No buts. You," he said, pointing at me. "I'm
clocking you out as of now." He pointed at Josie. "You. Cover her
tables."

Josie gave him a desperate look. "But I can't
even cover my own."

"Again, not my problem," he said.

"Hey," I said, "You can clock me out all you
want, but I'm staying 'til my tables are finished."

"Why? So you can turn around and sue the
restaurant later?" he said. "Tell them how I forced you to work for
free?" He puffed out his chest. "Not gonna happen. Not on
my
watch."

And with that, he turned and stalked back
toward his office.

I stared after him. "So
he's
gonna
clock me out?" I said. "Is that even legal?"

Josie rolled her eyes. "I dunno. Check the
fucking employee manual. God, what a turd." She picked up her tray
and turned toward the dining area. I watched her go. And that's
when I saw them.

The flashing red and blue of police
lights.

I looked over the crowd, wondering how I
hadn't noticed all the commotion before.

Against the long bank of front windows,
customers were pressing their faces to the glass, cupping their
hands around their eyes to shut out the glare. Behind them, others
stood to peer over their shoulders, or craned their necks to see
around them.

Whatever was going on, it was happening in
the front parking lot. And apparently it wasn't your average
traffic stop.

Suddenly, a stocky guy with shaggy hair stood
and bolted. He strode toward the front exit, leaving his dinner
partner, a petite redhead, scowling after him. Fork in hand, she
glared daggers at his back as he pushed through the people waiting
to be seated and disappeared out the front door.

Sitting by herself, the redhead looked madder
than hell, and I couldn't say I blamed her. I'd just delivered
their food a few minutes earlier. Now she'd be eating it alone.

And she wasn't the only one.

As if Shaggy's departure had somehow granted
everyone else permission, a slew of other diners followed after the
guy – a couple near the far wall, a trio of college guys near the
waitress station, a lone older man who'd been standing at the bar.
Within a few minutes, at least thirty people, maybe more, had
wandered outside.

I made my way to the front windows and peered
out. Across the parking lot, the lights were still flashing,
reflecting red and blue off of two large, silver tour buses that
I'd noticed on my way in.

Josie dashed over breathlessly, tray in hand.
"Hey, you wanna do me a favor?" she said. "Find out what's going
on, will ya? The customers are asking."

She glanced around, taking in the empty
seats. "Well, the ones who are still inside anyway." Then she was
gone, heading toward one of the many tables that I'd been forced to
abandon, thanks to Keith and his employee manual.

If I couldn't help her with those tables, at
least I tell her what was going on. I owed her that much. I dashed
to the back room and grabbed my coat off the rack.

A minute later, I was shivering outside with
the rest of them. I stood on my tiptoes, trying to catch some sort
of clue. It was no use. Between the shifting crowd and massive tour
buses, a good vantage point was proving impossible to find.

Near the back of the crowd, the shaggy-haired
guy was awkwardly taking pictures, or maybe video, with his cell
phone. As I watched, he held the phone above the crowd, pressed a
button, and then pulled down the phone to take a look. He frowned
as he studied the tiny screen.

I hustled to his side and tapped him on the
shoulder. "What's going on?" I asked.

"Got me," he said, lifting his phone again.
This time, when he studied the screen, he gave a low chuckle. "But
I think it's gonna be good."

"Why?" I said. "What is it?"

"Hang on," he said, lifting the phone yet
again. This time, when he studied the screen, he gave a sigh of
irritation. "Damn it."

"Why don't you just get closer?" I asked.

He gave me a look. "Why don't
you
?"

I glanced at the crowd, crammed
shoulder-to-shoulder in front of me. The parking lot was huge, but
the commotion seemed centered between the two buses, leaving only a
narrow alley between them.

Unless I was willing to shove someone aside,
this was as close as I'd be getting.

"See?" Shaggy said. "You don't wanna get your
ass beat neither, huh?" He cleared his throat. "Besides, I already
tried. People take this shit seriously."

"But you were the first one out here," I
said. "How come you're not up front?"

"Because," he said, "I had to grab my phone
out of the car." He glanced toward the restaurant. "You can thank
my girlfriend for that."

He mimicked a high-pitched female voice. "You
love that stupid cell phone more than me. Can't you leave it
outside
just once
so we can have a nice dinner?" His voice
returned to normal. "So I leave it outside, and what happens?" He
flicked his head toward the crowd. "This."

I looked toward the commotion. I still didn't
know what
this
was.

"She'd better be grateful," the guy said.

I'd seen the look on the redhead's face. When
he returned, he was more likely to get a fork in the eyeball than
anything resembling gratitude.

"Um, yeah," I said, as I craned my neck in a
desperate bid for a better vantage point.

"Hey, I've got it," he said. His eyes were
bright with excitement. "You wanna see, right? I know. Lemme give
you a boost."

"A boost?"

"Yeah. Get you higher for a better look." He
grinned. "For a price."

I narrowed my gaze. "What kind of price?" My
skirt was almost obscene as it was. One lift above eye level, and I
might as well be charging
him
.

"Video." He thrust his phone into my hand.
"Zoom in on the car, will ya?"

"What car?"

"You'll see." He licked his lips. "Oh man,
this'll be great on my site. Total viral. You just watch."

I glanced toward the commotion. The lights
were still flashing. A few paces ahead of me, someone laughed long
and hard.

It had been a hellish night. If there was one
thing I could use, it was a good laugh. Probably, so could
Josie.

Still, this was beyond strange. I bit my lip.
"I dunno."

"Aw c'mon, please?" He looked at me with
puppy dog eyes. "I'm desperate. Help a guy out, will ya?"