"The cook."
I shrugged. "So tell him to go."
"He can't go, not 'til I do. It's restaurant policy."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. The closers leave at the same time – you know, for safety reasons."
If I cared for Anna's wellbeing, which I didn't, I would've thought this policy was a good thing, smart even. But now, it was hitch in my plans.
I hadn't forgotten what it was like to be a regular working stiff, dicked around by people with something to prove.
"All right," I said, "Finish up. We'll talk outside."
Her brow wrinkled. "Finish up?"
"Yeah, finish closing, or whatever you need to do to get out of here."
Anna gave a loud sigh. "Look, I know you hate me. And I don't blame you, honest. But I’m having a hard time figuring out what exactly you want from me." She looked around the sorry little restaurant and asked, "I mean, isn't this revenge enough?"
I leaned further back and gave it some thought. Revenge or no revenge, I had to admit that, yeah, itwaspretty nice to see her getting a taste of the other side –myside, or at least whathadbeen my side, back before I'd made it big.
Now I studied her from across the table. She was a year younger than me, which put her at twenty-six. She didn't look much different than she had back in high school, even if shewaslooking a little rough around the edges.
Her eyes were shadowed with dark circles. Her fingernails were chipped. And there was a small bandage on her thumb, like she'd cut it or was covering a blister.
As far as the specifics, I didn't know, and I didn't care.
WhatIcared about was the fact she was still good-looking enough for what I had in mind.
I mean, yeah, she'd need a manicure along with better clothes, but that would be nothing in the big scheme of things.
I told her, "I'm here to make you an offer."
Her eyes narrowed. "What kind of offer?"
"A job."
"What kind of job?"
I jerked my head toward the parking lot. "I'll be in my car. You'll know it when you see it."
"So?"
"So meet me when you're done, and I'll fill you in on the details."
"Forget it," she said. "You can tell me now."
I gave her a look. "I thought you said Michael had to go."
"He does," she said, "but if you think I'm gonna go out to your car—"
"Don't worry, you will."
"I'm not worried," she snapped. "I'm just saying, don't be so sure."
Except I was.Anna reeked of desperation. I knew the smell firsthand. Ialsoknew that her job at the waffle house wasn't cutting it and that if she didn't pony up the rent by Tuesday, she and her mom – and yeah, the little sister too – would be out on their asses quicker than you could say, bring me some fucking bacon.
But all I said was, "Oh, I'm sure." And with that, I stood and tossed a twenty on the table. "Keep the change."
