I was at the waitress station, processing a credit card payment when Keith emerged from the back office. "Alright," he announced, "time to send one of you girls home."
Next to me, Josie's jaw dropped. Mine too. Outside, the line was scary long. Inside, every table was taken, either with actual customers or stacks of dirty dishes as the lone busboy struggled to keep up.
"What?" I stared at him. "Why?"
"Because we're overstaffed, that's why."
"You've got to be kidding," I said.
His gaze narrowed. "You think I'm out here for the fun of it, is that it?"
I snorted. "I'm surprised you're out here at all."
"Hey!" he said. "You wanna compare jobs?" He looked down at my skimpy uniform. "Wellmine'sa little harder than dropping off food and shaking my ass."
As someone who'd actually seen his ass, I sincerely hoped he wouldn't be shaking that thing at anyone.
Next to me, Josie pointed toward the dining area. "But we're totally slammed," she said. "Look at this place."
He gave the dining room a cursory glance. "Not according to sales figures," he said. "Do I need to remind you girls? It's calculated by receipts, not customers."
I glared at him. "So?"
"So," he said, "if you wanna justify the manpower –" he smirked "– or should I say girl power, then maybe you should work a little harder at suggestive selling, huh? "
"Hey!" Josie said. "I suggest the shit out of stuff."
His jaw clenched. "What'd you just say to me?"
Josie rolled her eyes. "Fine. Crap. I suggest thecrapout of stuff. It's not my fault if people don't go for it."
"Yeah," I said. "And besides, we can barely keep up as it is."
He turned to smile at me. "Then you'll be happy to know that you're the girl who's going home."
My mouth fell open. "What? Me? But I just got here."
Was this his way of firing me without firing me? I'd dealt with him before. Agreement or not, he always found a loophole.
I felt my jaw clench. I still had that photo of him with Brittney. Maybe I needed to find a loophole, too, like a billboard off I-75.
Next to me, Josie spoke up. "Alright. Fine. Whatever. But if someone needs to go home—"
"It'll be Chloe," Keith snapped. "Not you."
Josie was glaring at him now too. "I was going to say Sonya."
"Oh, so you're making these decisions now?" Keith said. "Last time I checked, I was the manager, not you."
"But have youseenSonya?" Josie said. "She's not looking too good."
"Nice try," Keith said, "but I think your little friend can speak for herself."
"What little friend?" I asked. "Me? Or Sonya?"
"Doesn't matter," he said. "You'rethe one leaving. First in, first out. Just like the manual says."
"But I was herelast," I said.
