Circus Day is my least favorite day of the week.
“I know your history. I looked you up the second I interviewed you. I won’t drag up your past, but I will say that it was the reason I hesitated in giving you the job.”
So, it wasn’t the murder conviction, then. Good to know,I think to myself.
“If this place is too much, I need you to tell me.”
It isn’t. I’m fine.
“Would you prefer a costume change?”
My eyebrows dip in confusion because I don’t exactly wear the full attire. I wear half of it, and she’s never complained about that.
“For everyone else. Would you prefer we get rid of the circus theme? We can come up with something else.”
I don’t need a costume change. I’m not letting childhood fears dictate my adult life.
“So, what’s bothering you then?”
Nothing really.
The pen clangs as I drop it to the desk.
“Spit it out becausenothing reallymeans something is.”
An audible sigh leaves me, and I take a minute before picking the pen back up and writing another note.
I have family in town. My stepsister is back in the family home.
“Is her presence the reason for your drinking problem tonight?”
It’s the first time we’ve had any kind of contact since…I trail off.
“Since your parents. Right. Well, go home. Deal with your shit and come in tomorrow for a day shift. Everyone gets a second chance, but no more. You screw up again, and you’re out.” Valaria is out of her seat before I am.
I pen another message that I carry to the door with me to give to her.
Why did you even take a chance on someone like me?
She scrunches my list of messages and tosses it into the trash in the corner. “Like with the two chances, there are two reasons. One, you look the part. The scars are an attraction. I’m sorry, but that’s true.”
As she talks, my wavy hair falls into my face, and I look through it to see her.
“And two, I don’t know why you did what you did. I don’t want to. But I know how I almost killed a man three years ago. He attacked me here in this bar and broke into this office. He held me down right there on the desk, and I knew if I hadn’t hurt him, he’d have hurt me. I stabbed him in the throat with a pen.”
My eyes wander back to her desk.
“Don’t worry, not that pen. And I’m not saying our experiences are the same, but I know how hard it is to overcome trauma. I think your parents would still be here if you didn’t have the childhood you did. I know how fragile the mind is and how easy it is to break. It’s a hard thing to learn to live with, memories that haunt you daily. But I did it, and you’re trying to do the same. I knew when I interviewed you that you were almost there. Why push you backward when you can move forward here? Here, where I needed staff. Two birds, one stone. Now, go the fuck home, and don’t ever let me catch you drinking on the job again. You got it?”
My head bobs, grateful for the second chance as I slip out.
CHAPTER 12
Dollie—present day
“Did we message this one already? I lean across the table, narrowly avoiding croissant crumbs, at the local diner.
It had taken some coaxing, but I managed to get Shane out of the house and away from paint fumes. I really needed to get away from that place where tears were an inevitable daily occurrence. He needed it, too, because after a morning of my tantrums, as he calls them, we were under each other’s skin. I’d say that’s what upset me about him shifting around all my personal belongings that are starting to take over the house, but him moving my stuff when he knows I need them close always hurts.
