Читать книгу The Courage To Say Yes - Barbara Wallace, Barbara Wallace - Страница 11
ОглавлениеCHAPTER THREE
“GET OUT.”
Abby looked over her shoulder, hoping Guy was talking to Hunter and not to her. Apparently her request in the cab had fallen on deaf ears, because the photographer had insisted on following her inside after the cab ride home.
Her plan had been simple. Catch Guy before he locked up, apologize and assure him that Warren wouldn’t be back. If necessary, beg and plead a little. Instead, she barely got through the door when he came around to the front of the counter. Dish towel slung over his shoulder, he jabbed the air with his gnarled finger. “Both of you,” he said. “Out.”
Abby almost went. After all, six years of being pliant didn’t disappear overnight. Taking a deep breath, she held her ground. “Can’t we talk about this?”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I told you when I hired you to keep your drama outside, and I meant it. You can’t do that, you’re out of here. There are plenty of waitresses who can do your job and who won’t cause fist fights during my breakfast rush.”
“Abby didn’t cause the fight.”
“Stay out of this,” she snapped to Hunter. His help had caused enough problems.
“Fine.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re on your own.”
“Thank you.” Too bad he hadn’t backed off so readily this morning.
“Can’t you give me another chance?” she asked, turning her attention back to her boss. Her ex-boss. Hopefully soon to be boss again. “I know this morning was bad.”
Guy waggled his index finger again. “Not only did you cause a fight, you left us shorthanded.”
“I know, and I’m really, really sorry. I promise to make it up to you.”
“Who’s gonna make it up to the customers I lost?”
It was a neighborhood restaurant with regular customers. He hadn’t lost anybody. Telling him he was exaggerating wouldn’t help her cause, though. If she’d learned anything from her years with Warren, it was when to keep her comments to herself. Instead, she moved to the second half of her plan. “Please, Guy. I’m begging you. I really need this job.”
“You should have thought about that before bringing your little love triangle to work.”
Love triangle? That’s what he thought today was about? A love triangle?
“That is definitely not what happened,” she said.
Guy dismissed her with a slap of his towel from one shoulder to another. “Don’t care what it is,” he said. “You’re still gone.” He turned his back.
Gone. As in fired. She couldn’t be. “But Warren won’t be back,” she said, chasing after him. “I went to court. I got a restraining order.”
The kitchen door swung shut in her face. “You still owe me a paycheck!” she hollered through the order window.
“What paycheck? I’m keeping it to cover the damages.”
Damages, her foot. A couple broken dishes wouldn’t take a whole paycheck, even with Guy’s cheap wages.
Could this day get any worse?
“Come back tomorrow after he’s calmed down,” she heard Hunter say.
What good would that do? Guy wasn’t going to change overnight. Why was Hunter still here, anyway? “Don’t you have pictures to take or something?” she asked him. She would have thought he’d be on his way a long time ago.
“Lost all the good light,” he replied.
“Oh, good. Then we’ve both lost something. I feel so much better.” Rude? Yes, but she wasn’t in the mood to be pleasant. Pushing her way past him, she headed to the front door. As if he had all day, Hunter accompanied her.
“You’ll find another job, you know.”
Easy for him to say. He had a job. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to get this one?” Of course he didn’t. “News flash. Jobs don’t grow on trees. Especially when you don’t have skills. Or experience.” Only thing she knew how to do was cook, clean and manage Warren’s tantrums. Hardly stuff to build a résumé on.
“Thanks to today, I can’t even use Guy as a reference.”
Suddenly exhausted, she sank down on the steps of the building next door. Her body felt as if it’d been hit by a truck. Come to think of it, she might be better off if she had been hit by a truck. At least then she’d be in a hospital bed, and Guy might feel bad enough to let her keep her job.
She jammed her fingers through her hair, destroying what was left of her ponytail. “You know what really stinks?” she asked Hunter. “Warren’s the bad guy in all of this and he’s got everything. The apartment, a job, money—”
“A shiny new restraining order.”
“Big whoop. So he can’t come within a hundred yards. You said yourself, he’ll move on before the hearing. Meanwhile, what do I have? No job and nine hundred lousy dollars in the bank. You tell me where that’s fair.”
“I can’t.”
Tears burned the back of her eyes. She blinked them away. Very least she would do was keep her pride. “All I wanted was to get my life back. Is that so freaking wrong?”
“No.”
“I was close, too.” She was. She had a job. She was saving money. Until Mr. Action Hero decided to live up to his looks. Now everything was ruined. “Why’d you have to punch him?”
Hunter sat on the step next to her. “I already told you.”
“I know, I know. He almost broke your fancy-schmancy camera.”
“That fancy-schmancy camera, as you put it, happens to be my life.”
“So was my job!” Abby flung the words back at him. “Bet you didn’t think about that when you decided to get all tough with Warren, did you? Who cares about Abby, right? Not like she matters. She’s just some useless piece of...”
The dam broke and all the frustration that had been building since the morning came roaring free. She was angry. At Hunter. At Warren. Mostly, though, at herself for letting herself be held down for six long years and ending up here in the first place. With hot tears threatening to blind her yet again, she lashed out at the first thing she could reach, which happened to be Hunter’s chest. “Damn you,” she said, slapping at his jacket. “Damn you, damn you, damn you.”