It sure sounded like it.
She went on to say something about field trips and extra credit. I started to wonder, was she their professor or something? And wasItoday's lesson?
Reluctantly, I started moving again. While my legs carried me forward, my mind churned with uncertainty. Why was I putting myself through this? Even with tips, my income was nothing spectacular.
And what about those so-called advancement opportunities? Did they really exist? Or was that all just a sham? Something to sucker in rubes like me, who were desperate to use their college degrees for something other than low-level service jobs?
I'd just passed my brothers' table when Steve called out, "Oh, Miss! Can we get a couple of Moon Pies over here?"
God, they were such asshats.
"No," I hissed and kept on moving.
"Gee," Steve muttered. "Talk about rude."
Ignoring his comment, I approached the table for ten and delivered Sarah's ginger ale before looking to the group's leader.
With a thin smile, the woman said, "We're so glad you came back." She looked around the table and said, "We were getting worried. Weren't we?"
I scanned the group. None of them looked particularly worried. Even Sarah, who'd been waiting for the ginger ale, looked more confused more than anything.
Determined to play it safe, I managed to say, "I'm sorry that took so long."
"I doubtthat," the woman said, getting to her feet. She looked to the rest of the table and announced, "Anyway, thisbartenderhere has something she wants to say." Her lips formed a smirk. "And I wanted you all to witness it."
I swallowed. Witness it?
My stomach was roiling now. Of course, I'd already known that she'd intended to make an idiot of me. But I hadn't expected her to be quite so blatant about it.
Again, I thought of Jake and his offer. If I wanted to, I could quit this place right now, and this whole thing would be over. I could tell the lady to shove it. And then I could run, fast and hard, for the exit.
It was so very tempting.
But that was the old Luna, the one who'd jump at the easy way out, only to regret it later. Who knows? Maybe Iwouldend up quitting. And maybe, I'd be quitting today.
But I wasn't going to do that without knowing for absolute certain that it wasn't merely to avoid something unpleasant. So I stiffened my spine and tried to keep my voice steady as I looked the woman straight in the eye, and said, as sincerely as I could, "I'mreallysorry about what happened the other day."
When she made no response, I added, "It was a mistake, and I hope you can forgive me?"
The woman stared at me. "Is that it?"
Was it?
I didn't know what to say. My face was burning with new embarrassment. What did she want? Better words? Me on my knees? A kiss on her ass?
I was willing to apologize, and I wanted to do a decent job of it, but I wasn't willing to beg, if that's what she had in mind.
When I said nothing, the woman looked heavenward and said, "Why don't you tell us what,specifically, you're sorry for."
Us?I glanced toward the table's other occupants, who eyed me with expressions ranging from sympathy to contempt.
The woman's words echoed in my mind. What, specifically, was I sorry for?
Well, right now, I was sorry that I didn't have a club, because I'd very much like to beat her with it.
My gaze shifted toward the exit. From here, I couldn't see the door, but I knew exactly where it was. In thirty seconds, I could be out of here.
I felt my jaw tighten. And let that woman get the best of me?
