Chapter 9
NINE
“Carolina, get your ass over here!” Lennard’s voice echoes, his silhouette framed by the half-open door to the kitchen, propped up by his shoulder.
“On my way!” I holler back, weaving my way through the patrons crowding the bar.
Tonight is busy, and a bachelor party showed up half an hour ago, keeping me on my toes with a continuous stream of orders.
Cindy is conspicuously absent, and sweat trickles down my forehead. The heat in the bar is scorching, and my running around only makes it worse.
With my back, I push open the door to the kitchen, spinning around to ask, “What?”
Lennard thrusts four plates piled with fries and nuggets into my hands. “You forgot this order,” he mutters, a scowl creasing his forehead.
“Calm down, I didn’t forget it. I’ve been too swamped to pick it up until now. In case you hadn’t noticed, the bar is bursting at the seams, and I’m the only one here.”
Matteo steps in front of me, pressing an ice cube to my lips and popping it into my mouth. I look at him with wide eyes, taken aback but unable to push him away, my hands full with the plates.
“Easy, carina. Save your fire for outside.” He laughs.
I’d like to counter, but my mouth is full. Besides, I can already hear the bachelor party guys hollering for another round. So I simply spin on my heels and head back out to deliver the food.
I take the next order from the guys and slide six frosty beers onto the table, assuring them, “I’ll be back with the rest,” before returning to the bar.
“Check out that big, round ass,” one of them drawls to his friends. “I bet it shakes for hours if you give it a good slap.”
What a fucking asshole. Seething, I get the remaining beers.
I hate that I’m working and can’t set that jerk straight.
“Here’s the rest,” I say, setting the beers from my tray onto their table. “Anything else?”
The offensive guy shares a smirk with his buddies before turning to me, saying, “Yeah, but I don’t think it’s on the menu.” His gaze roams my body.
“You couldn’t afford it even if it was,” I say, but it only earns me a chorus of chuckles.
“What’s it gonna take to get into those pants?” he slurs as his finger catches one of my belt loops, pulling me closer.
I swat his hand away. “I already have one asshole down there. I don’t need another.”
I turn to leave, but a hard slap lands on my ass, making me jump. “See? Told you it jiggles.” The guy guffaws with his buddies.
I’m ready to slap him back, my hand raised in the air when Donny’s shout reverberates across the bar. “Costa!”
I let my hand drop and glare at the guy once more before turning and walking toward the bar where Cindy and Donny have mysteriously reappeared.
Donny grips my upper arm, leading me through the door into the kitchen. He releases me abruptly, causing me to stagger a few steps.
“Did I just see what I think I did? Were you about to slap a customer?” His voice is loud and furious.
“That asshole hit me first!” I protest, spreading my arms wide in disbelief.
“Just because your virgin ass isn’t used to getting some action, you can’t act like a nun around the patrons! Cindy gets catcalled and hit on all the fucking time and takes it like a trooper, and for once, a blind fucker makes a move on you, and you turn into a prude?”
I can’t believe this guy. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Carolina,” Matteo interjects in a low voice, attempting to grab my arm. I jerk it out of his grasp, giving him a sharp look.
“No, I won’t just let this slide. I’m the only one in this godforsaken bar who actually works, and you’re telling me I can’t even defend myself?”
“Defend yourself from what? A guy who’s drunk enough to find you attractive?”
“That’s it, I’m fucking done with this shit show,” I yell.
“No, this shit show is done with you. You’re fired. Get your stuff and get out of my bar,” Donny shouts.
Cindy steps closer to him, clinging to his arm. “Donny, you can’t fire her. We need her,” she whispers, but he shrugs her off.
“Go be useless somewhere else.” He snarls at her while I remove my apron and crumple it into a ball before tossing it at Donny’s feet.
The night air is cold as I walk to the 7-Eleven, still fuming.
Who does he think he is?
I’ve endured a fucking lot in my life, and I know how to just take it and shut my mouth, but I’m not going to be told my body must be available while I work and anyone can just touch it if they want.
If I thought I could be a prostitute, I would be. The pay would be much better.
Howie is sitting in our usual space, and I let myself fall beside him, the concrete hitting my butt hard. I drop my head into my hands.
“What’s wrong, kid? What are you doing here already?” Howie asks, concerned.
I sit there, rocking back and forth, desperately tugging at my hair.
What the hell did I just do?
Yeah, I despised that job, but it paid decently, and the tips were usually good. Now that I’ve lost it, I don’t know how to make things work.
“I messed up,” I whisper.
“What happened?” Howie asks, his voice filled with gentleness. But I can’t stop rocking to form a reply. My head feels like it’s spinning out of control. “Kid,” he says softly, placing a hand on my back.
The gesture momentarily halts my rocking, and I look up at him. Howie and I have never touched each other before. We’ve always just sat side by side and talked.
Tears well up in my eyes. “I got fired.”
His gaze softens even more, and there’s so much compassion in his voice as he says my name. “Lina.”
A sob bursts out of me, and I start crying.
I can’t remember the last time I cried in front of someone, maybe at my parents’ funeral.
I usually don’t allow myself to break down while anyone can see.
I never let my guard down completely. But now, here I am, sobbing because I lost a job that paid our rent, all because of a stupid slap on the ass and my big mouth.
Howie wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close in a side hug. He leans his head against mine. “You’ll find another job, Lina. Nobody works as hard as you do. Everyone will want you, and you’ll have a new job in no time,” he assures me, swaying slowly from side to side as he comforts me.
“And what if I don’t?” I sniffle, trying hard to regain my composure.
“Then you’ll find another way. You’ve always found a way,” he says softly, gently stroking my upper arm.
I slowly pull away from the embrace, looking into his bright blue eyes that stand out in his dirty face. “I’m so sorry for breaking down on you.”
“You didn’t break down, kid. You just needed a moment. You grew up surrounded by emotional chaos, and you find comfort in the pain. This is just another rock on the road.” He nods at me, leaning back against the concrete wall.
“Thank you for being here for me,” I whisper, rising to my feet.
“You’re the closest thing to family for an old lost man like me. Of course, I’m here.” He huffs. “Now go home and get an extra hour of sleep. All this emotional stuff is making me tired.”