Fumbled (Playbook #2)(36)
“Two years?” Brynn repeats, but I can’t decipher the tone in her voice. “Good for you, girl. I know you were killing it there. I went a while ago, the waitress uniforms were so cute, I went home and ordered a sequined corset from Trashy. Spent three hundred dollars and wore it once . . . alone in my bedroom. It wasn’t a good look on me.”
I find that hard to believe. Brynn is basically a supermodel. I’d put good money on everything being a good look on her.
“Trust me, once in your bedroom is more than enough. Wire piping isn’t the cornerstone of comfort.” We both laugh at the truth in my words, but I still reconsider giving my uniform back. I was the only one who wore my size, so it’s not like they’ll miss it.
“Yeah, and I’m all about comfort.” She stops and bites her lip, her eyes moving to the ceiling before dropping back to me. “Listen.”
My stomach clenches as I fight the urge to retreat. She was nice about my nightclub past, but here comes the gentle letdown.
“I think I’m a pretty good judge of character. I hired Marlee on the spot and that worked out well for me,” she says.
My breath gets stuck in my chest, a sliver of hope poking out behind the gloomy cloud of dread that’s always following me around.
“And my gut is telling me you’re good people. If it’s not too late notice, why don’t you come in this weekend right before we open, about ten, and stay until after the lunch rush? We can see how you like it.”
“It’s not too late,” I promise, feeling a relief so heady my knees go weak.
“Great!” She bounces on her toes again and I think she’s genuinely excited for me to work with her.
“Thank you so much, Brynn.” I give her a hug, forgetting in the moment how much I hate touching strangers. “You won’t regret this!”
“I know I won’t.” She hugs me back, clearly not sharing my distaste for affection.
Now, I’m sure we are not only wearing matching psychotic smiles, but have matching pitch as well.
I lean in for one last hug when Brynn’s arms go straight and she pushes me back.
“Oh!” Her eyes widen and drop down to my feet. “There’s not really a dress code here, just dress how you’re comfortable, but just so you know, I wear tennis shoes.” She points at her red Chuck Taylor–covered feet and I want to weep.
“Tennis shoes at work?” I pull her in for another hug. “I will never let this job go.”
Even if I do keep the corset, I decide in this moment, the heels must die.
I make sure to add lighter fluid and wood for my fireplace to the running grocery list in my head. Tonight, the spiked, five-inch Devils will meet their doom.
“See you soon.” I wave and walk out of the office.
Ace’s concern for my safety must’ve been fleeting because he’s so into whatever he’s doing on my phone that he doesn’t even notice me walk out of the room.
“Come on, dude. Large smoothies and a dozen muffins to go.” I snap my fingers, causing him to jump off the couch. “We have some celebrating to do.”
Sixteen
“Answer, answer, answer,” I whisper into the receiver as the phone rings in my ear and I pace back and forth in my room.
This is the third attempt I’ve made to call TK since I left HERS. I know he’s busy and my new waitressing gig isn’t the most exciting news in the world, but after blowing off sending me Brynn’s number last night and not responding to my texts or answering my calls, I’m getting a complex. I’ve been racking my mind, going over what we said before he left, wondering if I did or said anything to piss him off. But I can’t think of anything.
“Yo,” TK answers just before I give up hope and hit the End button.
“Hey!” I say, and cringe at the volume of my voice. I haven’t even started at HERS yet and I feel like Brynn’s already rubbing off on me. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving meetings from this morning’s practice, about to grab some lunch before more meetings and more practice.” There is something off with his tone. He seems almost annoyed to be on the phone with me. The knot in my stomach tightens and I sneak out of the living room without Ace noticing. “Do you need anything?”
“Uh, no. I just wanted to tell you about my morning.”
I stop and wait for him to say something . . . anything, but I’m only met with silence.
“Me and Ace went to HERS and you’re now talking to the newest waitress!” I dance in my room despite the chilly reception on the other end, too excited to not be unemployed to fight it.
“Shit, I can’t believe I forgot to send you her number,” TK groans, and I can picture him with his head down, his hair falling in front of his face, concealing his look of frustration. “Congratulations, though. I knew she’d hire you.”
“It’s not a huge deal, but thank you. I think it worked out better, you not calling,” I reassure him, even though I’m still a little annoyed at his forgetfulness over something that was actually really important. “It forced me to step out of my comfort zone.”
“I can push you out of your comfort zone,” TK says, all traces of the grumpy, brooding guy I was talking to pushed to the side by the horny teenager I remember all too well.