The Fix (The Carolina Connections, #1)(68)

“Ugh. It’s freaking awful, but I need the money. I do filing and order processing—and basically anything Antoinette can think of to torture me. There are three of us back there with the she-devil, but I’m just a temp. Thank God.”

“So how long have you been there?”

We’d reached the front of the line, so we placed our orders and took our drinks to a table by the window.

Laney hung her purse from her chair and set her phone on the table next to her soda. “Only about two months, and I’m just part time. I go to school too, and I have a baby. Well, not such a baby anymore, I guess. He just turned one.” She grabbed her phone again and showed me her screensaver. An adorable dark-haired little boy beamed at the camera with a gummy smile and bright eyes.

“Oh my God. He’s so cute!” I put a hand to my chest. Babies were the absolute best. As long as I didn’t have to change any diapers.

Laney couldn’t hide her smile as she pulled the phone back and gazed lovingly at the screen. “Thanks.”

“Wow, so you’re working, going to school, and raising a kid? I feel like a total slacker.” I took a sip of my iced tea and rested my elbows on the table. I wanted to ask if she was married, but there was no ring on her finger and it would be nice to avoid sticking my foot in my mouth for once. Laney answered my unspoken question anyway.

“Don’t. I have a lot of help. Rocco and I live with my parents and we all take turns watching him.”

“Well, I’m still super impressed.” And I was happy to hear that she had a great support system. I knew from experience how invaluable that was.

Our food arrived and we both dug in.

“What about you? Where did you work before Beaumont?” she asked, spearing a tomato with her fork.

“Um,” I began, not sure how honest I should be. This was my fourth job. In four months. I know, I know. But I can explain. Or, rather, I can make excuses. Except for that first one, because I don’t care what anyone says; when a customer is on the verge of making a tragic fashion purchase, I feel it’s my duty to intervene, no matter who might lose commission. “Here and there.”

Laney’s brows rose. “Sounds mysterious.”

“Not really.” I popped a chip in my mouth. For some reason, I wanted to spill my stories to this girl. My gut said she wouldn’t look at me like I was just another ditzy blond princess if she knew all my secrets. But that was too risky. I’d just met her! On the other hand, I hadn’t made any real friends in the short time I’d lived in Greensboro. Maybe, just maybe, Laney and I would turn out to be friends. If we survived Antoinette, that was.

I decided to test the waters. “Let’s just say it’s come to some people’s attention that I don’t have many work skills. I honestly don’t know why I keep getting hired.” I laughed at myself because it was the truth.

Laney waved me off and finished chewing a bite of her salad. “That can’t be true. I’m sure you’re good at a lot of things.”

I couldn’t help my naughty grin. “Well, there are a few things I’ve been complimented on.”

Oh, for the love of Mike! I couldn’t believe I’d just said that! But Laney laughed, letting me know that my unfiltered comment hadn’t scared her off.

“I am so glad you came to work in furniture hell, Fiona.”

And so was I. Even if it was just for the purpose of seeing a friendly face.

We continued talking as we finished our meal, and then it was time to head back to work. We’d already exchanged numbers and made plans to get together on her next free evening for a girls’ night out.

As soon as we passed through the doors of the gallery, I knew something was up. And, sure enough, Antoinette the Douchebagette (hey, wait, that rhymes!) stood beside my desk, arms crossed and bitch-face in place. “Where ‘ave you been? Gabrielle ‘as been doing your job for over an ‘our!” Laney and I both lifted our arms to look at our watches. We’d only been gone for forty-five minutes.

“Antoinette,” Laney began, but our boss rose a hand to stop her.

“I will deal wiz you later.” Her eyes never left mine.

Okay, so I could admit I wasn’t the best at typing, or giving tours, or selling clothes (which I would have rocked if I had something decent to work with, mind you), or handing out brochures (I can explain). But talking on the phone? That was my sweet spot! I rocked as a receptionist! This woman didn’t care, though. She just didn’t like me.

Well, right back ‘atcha, sister!

I put a hand on Laney’s arm in reassurance. “I still have fifteen minutes of my lunch break left. I only took forty-five so far.”

Antoinette’s lips curved into a satisfied smile. “Zis would be true if your break was not zirty minutes. Which makes you fifteen minutes late. A clear violation.” Good God. If Disney was in the market for a new super-villain, I had a recommendation.

Laney sputtered, but I tightened my hold on her arm. No need for both of us to get the boot.

Antoinette’s eyes skipped to Laney. “Get back to work.”

I squeezed Laney’s arm one more time, trying to communicate that she should move ass. She couldn’t afford to get fired.

But I could.

In fact, I kind of wanted it, as awful as that sounds. A sigh of relief escaped my lips when Laney finally left my side and crept past our boss. She shot one last look of regret over her shoulder, but I smiled and nodded before bringing my hand to my ear in the universal “call me” gesture. Then I turned my attention back to a scowling Antoinette.