“Hey Riley,” a perky voice piped up behind me. I felt my shoulders tense and my teeth clench. I continued to wipe down my tables, even though they were so clean you could lick your food off them.
“Hey,” I responded less than enthusiastically. Jaz Digby was not my favorite person on the planet. She was entirely too enthusiastic about the monotonous routine that defined our roles as wait staff at Barton’s Bar and Grill. I don’t think the girl ever got pissed off and people like that bothered me on a molecular level. There was something wrong about someone that continued to smile while being chewed out by a disgruntled customer. People like that weren’t to be trusted.
The only reason I tolerated her on any level was that Maysie liked her, in that sweet, deluded way of hers.
Jaz sat down at the table I was meticulously scrubbing. She started to rearrange the salt and pepper shakers and given my current state of mind, she might as well be clubbing baby seals. It pissed me off that much. I reached over and quickly put them back the way I had them originally.
Jaz pursed her lips but wisely didn’t say anything. She leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees and cupped her chin. “So I hear you and Damien are kaput,” she said, dropping all pretense of friendliness. She sounded entirely too happy about it actually.
“And that’s your business because?” I asked shortly, turning my back on her and started to sweep up the carpet underneath the tables.
“Because he asked me out and I wanted to make sure that was cool with you,” she said, her lips twisted into a fake smile, her eyes sparkling.
I would have laughed if her words hadn’t just drilled a hole straight into my gut. Was she for real? Or had she burned away the last of her brain cells with her curling iron?
Though I guess it was nice to know we were past pretending to like each other. Acting like she didn’t drive me nuts was more effort than it was worth most days. Plus, I always knew Jaz was a fake ass harpy. Happy to see that my instincts were spot on.
I tried to focus on the blinding rage instead of the knot in my gut that made me want to vomit at the news that not only was Damien all ready asking other girls out, but he had in fact, asked out one of our co-workers. And one that I would have traded easily for a shirt I didn’t like.
Did his asshattery know no bounds?
I held my feelings mercifully in check. I continued to sweep as though my heart hadn’t been shredded to pieces at my feet. I blanked my face and turned to look at Jaz, who seemed both pleased and genuinely perplexed as to whether she had broken a sacred rule of girldome. Thou shalt not date other girl’s jerkwad of an ex within seventy-two hours of break up.
Wasn’t that standard knowledge? Did Jaz not read the handbook on how not to get yourself bitch slapped?
“Do what you want,” I said, trying not to strangle on the words. Jaz raised her eyebrows.
“Really? Because I’d be devastated if the guy I had dated for over a year asked another girl out less than a week after he dumped me,” Jaz stood up and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “And if it bothers you, I swear I won’t do it,” she lied through her teeth.
I squared my shoulders and laughed humorlessly. “It will take more than Damien Green to devastate me,” I leaned in and whispered in Jaz’s ear. “Maybe you’re better equipped than I was to deal with his weird blow up doll fetish and the fact he needs to wear a dress while he has sex.” I shrugged.
Jaz’s face went a little pale. “That’s not true, is it? I mean, I get that you’re upset that he asked me out but making stuff up is wrong, Riley,” she choked out, looking across the restaurant to where Damien was talking to a few of the other servers.
“I understand you’d think that, but here, I’ve got pictures…” I stated, pulling out my phone and making a show of scrolling through, looking for the non-existent photographs. Jaz shook her head.
“No!” she said sharply and I looked up.