“Thanks,” I snap, and leave him to fester in his bad mood.
As I’m rounding the back line where Sniper’s still manning the fryer, I make my way over to him. “Sniper. I need a favor,” I say, quietly checking over my shoulder to make sure no one can hear me.
“You need a date? Someone to show you around?” He winks. “I’d be glad to, love.”
“I told you he’s a man whore,” Ike grumbles as he crosses his arms.
I roll my eyes at Sniper. “I appreciate the offer, but that’s not where I’m going with this. I have a feeling something big is going down today, and I need you to keep an eye on things.”
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” he asks, turning to face me.
“No. No. Nothing like that,” I assure him. “I just feel like something is going to happen, and having a tough guy like you around might keep things from getting too crazy.”
“What are you up to, Charlotte?” Ike asks, and of course, I ignore him. I don’t know why he bothers asking me questions when I can’t answer him.
Sniper eyes me suspiciously. “Okay,” he says, with uncertainty.
“Thanks.” I smile brightly, leaving him to his fryer full of fries.
“Charlotte,” Ike warns, but again I ignore him. He’ll find out what’s going on soon enough, and I’m sure he’ll be pissed about it.
Misty is behind the bar, eyes dull and unfriendly as she takes me in. “Hey, Misty,” I chirp as I tie my apron on and pass by her to the hostess stand to check where my tables will be. It’s no surprise I got the crappiest section as I’m the new girl, but I try to remain optimistic. I just have to show George I can do this and he’ll give me better tables.
I head over to my tables to check all the salt and pepper shakers and sugar caddies when Misty approaches.
“Listen. If you want to keep your job here you’ll keep your mouth shut about what you saw last night,” she warns, her blue eyes scorching into mine.
“You mean how I saw you sniffing coke?” I counter and Ike groans. He thinks I’m making it worse. He’s probably right.
“Look, bitch,” she chuckles softly in disdain, as if she doesn’t consider me a threat. “Keep your mouth shut and stay out of my way, and maybe I’ll let George keep you on.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ike yells as he punches her in the face. He’s the kind of man that would never hit a woman, not for real anyway, but I guess since he knows he can’t hurt her, he’s giving it to her. Of course, his blows don’t affect her at all; his hands just go right through her. I can’t help it, I laugh, which causes Misty to glare because she thinks I’m laughing at her.
“Let him keep me on?” I question as I cross my arms. “The sign outside says Ike and George’s. Misty must be in fine print.”
“George and I have an understanding,” she says, simply.
I grin at the absurdity of her words. “Is that what they call fucking these days?” Misty’s eyebrows touch her hairline.
“Jesus, Charlotte,” Ike mumbles.
“I’m sorry, Misty. I’ll tell you what. You stay out of my way and play nice, and maybe I won’t tell your boyfriend you’re fucking your boss,” I say as I smile brightly at her.
“George will fire you if he thinks you’re trying to stir up shit,” Ike adds.
Ike is right, but he won’t have a chance. George’s world is officially about to collapse, and Misty will be out of the picture for good. Misty’s eyes go wide as she stares at me blankly. She’s not sure how to respond to my threat.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with, bitch,” she bites out. She doesn’t chuckle this time. I guess I’ve moved up on the threat meter.
“Just walk away, Charlotte. She’s probably high right now, and who knows what she’ll do,” Ike warns, and as much as I want to lash back at her, I decide he’s right. Besides, her life is about to drive head-on into a shit storm.
“Can I get to work now, or do you want to continue glaring at me?” I ask casually, as if we’re not in an intense quarrel.
She backs away slowly, her eyes saying everything her mouth isn’t; threatening me in all ways possible. When she finally spins around and walks away, I turn to my table and whisper to Ike, “Stop talking to me. It’s distracting and hard to ignore.”
“Fine. I’m trying to help.”
“I know, but dial it down, please,” I whisper again. “Maybe you could give me some space while I work.”
“As you wish.” He nods and disappears.
I check all of my tables just before George comes out from the kitchen and unlocks the doors. Through the glass pane of the door, I see Mr. Mercer with I assume is his wife, waiting to enter, and George greets them as he holds the door open for them.
“Good to see you, Mr. and Mrs. Mercer. How are ya today?”
“We’re good, George,” Mr. Mercer answers. “How have you been?”