by Mel Ryle
“You know that is not allowed, right?” My eyebrow rose up in surprise at the implication that he’d just grab one of the cakes in the restaurant.
“Don’t worry. I’m buying it in case they find out,” he replied as his smile broadened. I hopped out of his motorcycle. He reached out for my helmet, taking it from me.
I smirked in reply, not knowing what to say after that. We got in the restaurant and went straight to our lockers and changed into our uniform. It consisted of a plain, white polo and black slacks paired with black shoes. Management provided everything after one was accepted to the job.
My evening started uneventfully, like yesterday. I was glad that there were no douchebags seated on my section, but I couldn’t say the same for Terry. When I met him by the computer to punch in an order, he was mumbling to himself in a silent rage.
“Are you alright?” I asked when I reached him, giving him a light pat on the back.
He replied with a frustrated sigh as he continued to type in the written orders in his small notepad. When he was finished, he glanced up at me and gave me a grim smile. “I’m not,” he replied softly, his smile not reaching his eyes.
“Which table?” I asked, already knowing the reason for his sour mood.
“Nineteen,” he stated, his voice unusually low from trying to maintain control. I could see from the way he clenched his teeth and his hands balled into fists that he was on the brink of losing it.
“What did he do?” I asked calmly as I quickly glanced at the table. The customer looked like every other businessman present in the room, wearing the usual dark navy suit without a tie. There was a short pause as I continued to assess the man. So, I turned to look at Terry but he really wasn’t in the mood for a recap.
“Tell me about it later in the bar. We can drink it off,” I offered as I gave him one last comforting pat before taking his place in the computer.
This made him smirk and chuckle a little. “Wow. I didn’t know that one night in a bar could change you into this kind of woman, Andy.”
“It didn’t. I was just humoring you,” I countered with a grin.
He snorted in reply, his smile still in place. With a final shake of his head, he walked towards the counter where trays of food were present. I worriedly looked at his retreating figure for a second before getting back to business. When I finished typing my set of orders, I noticed Reyna ushering a new customer to a reserved table.
As my eyes finally reached the man’s face, I stiffened. His dirty blond hair was slicked back and his dark gray silk suit, with a black polo underneath, snugly fitted him. He looked like one of those moguls on the cover of a lifestyle or business magazine. William Maxwell. The man with the power to fire me from both my jobs and perhaps make it difficult for me to get another one in a city he mostly owns. A man I don’t want to be enemies with, although that is getting harder every time we meet.
Mr. Mogul, which was quite an apt title for him, was seated in the same table he occupied on his last visit. I’ve learned my lesson after that first encounter, so I ignored him and entertained the rest of the tables in my section except his. He, too, ignored my presence for a while, until he condescendingly snapped his fingers when I passed by, adding fuel to the fire.
I resisted the urge to shout as I turned to him with my best fake smile. “Is there something you need, sir?” I asked.
He wasn’t able to reply right away as his phone vibrated on the table, getting his full attention. I wanted to walk away after that, but he held his finger up as a signal for me to wait. I waited for him to finish his call, all the while trying to control my temper.
When he was finally done, he didn’t bother looking at me. Instead, he glanced down at the menu in front of him and remained silent for another minute, as if he had all the time in the world. I wanted to smack the man in the head right then and there, but he suddenly looked up. A pair of clear sky blue eyes stared directly at me.
“Have you finally figured out who I am?” he asked firmly, his familiar British accent thick and his voice deep.
“There wasn’t much choice on my part,” I replied in the same tone and looked back at him gravely.
“How so?” he asked, his lips in a smirk.
This man is trying to test what little patience I have left. “Well, I had to find out sometime, since I do work here. I mean, what kind of an employee would I be if I don’t know who my employer is?” My self-control was starting to wear thin.
“Smart answer... Andy,” he paused for a second as he read my nameplate. “You don’t look like an Andy. Did you steal that nameplate?” he asked, raising his eyebrow in suspicion.
“No, sir. My father gave me that name since he wanted a son, but he had me instead,” I explained sarcastically. This man is really testing my patience.
“What is your real name?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with interest.
I looked at him for a moment before giving him a reply. “It’s what’s written here, Mr. Maxwell. Bold and clear,” I replied bluntly. I also tapped my nameplate twice for emphasis.
He raised his eyebrow again in surprise. From the way his eyes hardened afterwards, it was obvious he didn’t like my answer. He tilted his head a little as he continued to stare. “Have you always been this invigorating?” he asked, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm.
“I think so,” I replied to humor him.
“Are you not afraid of losing your job, Ms. Peterson?” he asked, his voice serious and commanding.
“This isn’t the only job out there for me, Mr. Maxwell. I have other offers,” I said with confidence. That last part was a bluff, though. If he knew how much I needed this job, it would surely fuel his arrogance.
“In that case, I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem if we no longer need your services,” he stated with finality.
For a moment, I was caught off guard. I can’t believe the man just fired me (what irked me more was I still found him charming, but I disregarded that notion). “By divine providence, you finally went straight to the point,” I mumbled with tight lips. “You don’t have to be so cunning, Mr. Maxwell. The least you could have done was humiliate me in front these people,” I said sarcastically, gesturing around the room.
“Would you have preferred to be humiliated, Ms. Peterson?” he asked, again, raising his eyebrow at me in question. I think that was one of his tricks.
“No. I was just humoring you, Mr. Maxwell. Besides, since I already humiliated you once, I thought a man like you would’ve returned the favor,” I stated with sarcasm as I untied my apron. When it was loose enough, I grabbed hold of it and threw it at him.
“You don’t have to fire me, Mr. Maxwell. I wouldn’t want to bother you with such trivial matters. To make it easier and simpler, I quit!” I shouted the last two words, making sure my voice was heard throughout the entire room.
At that moment, the room went silent. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I stared at him with rage. I stood there for a second, savoring his stunned expression. Before he could come up with a reply, I walked away from him and stomped towards the locker room. In my peripheral vision, I saw Terry’s stunned expression and my manager’s shocked face. In fact, everyone’s eyes were on me as I made my exit.
I quickly changed out of the uniform, stashed it in my locker (or what used to be), and went out through the backdoor. The streets weren’t as busy that night, and only a few people were present as I waited at the bus stop. For a moment, I felt hopeless. What have I done? I can’t believe I’ve done something so reckless. My actions must have been caused by my lack of sleep and extreme stress.
I stopped pondering over what happened as soon I saw a black car stop in front of me. Afterwards, a man, with dirty blonde hair, got out of the passenger seat. As I eyed his familiar stature, I mentally cursed him with all of the profane words I could think of.
Five
“What is wrong with you? You don’t have the right to make a scene like that in my restaurant!” Wil
liam snapped as he walked towards me.
“Just because you’re the boss does not mean you can just treat me however you want!” I countered just as angrily, jumping up from my seat in the waiting area.
“I didn’t make a scene when I fired you. You should be grateful that I hadn’t humiliated you in there,” he stated, practically spitting the words at me.
“Oh sure! Because firing someone in the middle of work is much less embarrassing,” I sneered and rolled my eyes sarcastically.
“Stop being so snarky,” he interjected, snorting as he shook his head in disbelief. “This kind of behavior only shows how unrefined you are. You lower class people are so outspoken and rude. It’s as if you were raised with no standards at all,” he added, stabbing my ego.
“Oh! And you think that your kind is any better? People like you are so full of yourselves. You think you have the world in your grasp. Well, news flash! You wouldn’t be on top without us unrefined, lower class people,” I barked in rage. The man was exactly who I thought he was. He thinks just like any rich, douchebag socialite, and he has absolutely no regard for humanity.
He opened his mouth to reply but closed it again. Then, he took an unsteady step back from where he stood, looking dumbfounded. I stared him down and mustered some confidence as I took a step closer to him.
“You might own most of the city, Mr. Maxwell, but you can never own a person’s free will,” I resolutely said to him without batting an eye.
I’m glad that the bus arrived right after I said those words. I didn’t wait for his reply or reaction and just hopped in. When I was finally seated, it was like this smog of contempt was lifted and I could breathe again. For a moment, as the bus drove away, I saw a glimpse of his figure. He stood as still as a statue, but his eyes looked turbulent. I regained my composure and looked ahead, ignoring his pointed stare.
When I finally got back to Terry’s apartment, I was so drained that I crashed on the couch face down. I think the adrenaline rush from being fired by Mr. Mogul fueled my actions earlier, but once that ran out, I succumbed to the exhaustion and finally rewarded myself with some much-needed rest.
I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep until I heard someone barge the door open and call out my name. I forcibly opened my heavy eyelids to see a man’s silhouette. Once I adjusted to the darkness, I finally recognized the person standing in front of me. Terry looked both surprised and worried.
“My god, Andy! What were you thinking?” he asked in awe.
I blinked my eyes a couple of times and stretched my stiff body. After that, I slowly sat up in the couch and yawned. “He asked for it,” I replied inaudibly, my voice slurry from grogginess.
“I can’t believe you just did that to William Maxwell!” he shouted in amazement.
“Yeah. Don’t remind me,” I mumbled in disinterest, rubbing my face sleepily.
“Why the hell did you do that?” he asked incredulously.
“Do I have to explain?” I looked at him pointedly.
“Right. The man was a douchebag,” he said empathetically. “That was an awesome exit though,” he added in praise.
“Why, thank you.” I bowed my head in appreciation and twitched my lips to a smile. I managed to bite them so I could hide my amusement.
Terry couldn’t hold himself back and laughed in reply, and I couldn’t help but giggle with him.
Later on, I went to my second job (I was unsure if I still had it since Mr. Mogul also owned the other place I worked in). Terry was very supportive by accompanying me to the club. I felt a slight chill at the back of my neck as I marched towards the bar. When Jack saw me approaching, he gave me a little wave. I took that as a good sign and continued to walk towards him.
“Hey. I need a hand with these orders,” he greeted once I reached him.
I smiled to myself, relieved to know that I still had this job. “I’ll get right on it,” I replied with a nod.
After that, I concentrated on the work at hand. Terry accompanied me in the bar as he waited for Andrew, encouraging me the whole time. At least my busy job helped me forget what had happened earlier in the evening. By the time the club closed, it finally sunk in that I still had work. For that, I was grateful.
Jack offered to drive me back home again. And, just like yesterday, I didn’t refuse. We were silent for the first few minutes as he drove out of the parking lot. But then, he said the words that I prayed he wouldn’t mention at all.
“So, why does William Maxwell want you fired?” he asked, his voice low.
I turned to him abruptly, stunned by his sudden question. “Did he call you?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“He did before you came in. He told me to fire you. Why is that?” he asked, curiosity evident in his voice.
I looked away from him exasperatedly, a little relieved that his attention was on the road. I bit my lips to prevent curses from pouring out of me. In an attempt to calm myself, I took a deep breath and exhaled. “I quit my other job and insulted him,” I replied, my voice shook a little from trying to control my temper.
He slowed down to a stop when the traffic light turned red. Then, he turned towards me as his lips twitched in amusement. “You insulted him? Why?” he asked.
“Well, he insulted me first. I just returned the favor,” I stated.
For a second, there was a pause, and then his laughter rang throughout the confined space of his car. He still laughed when he hit the gas pedal as the light turned green. It took quite a while before he could say a word in reply. “I can’t believe that someone is brave enough to go against a Maxwell,” he softly uttered to himself.
After that, I didn’t say anything. I kept my mouth shut and stared straight ahead at the dimly lit street. When we reached the apartment, I softly thanked him. He didn’t bring up the topic anymore and gave me a pleasant smile. From the way he acted that night (or rather that morning), I thought Terry bluffed about him being a serious person. After all, I just saw the man laugh, smile, and look amused.
By morning, I was able to wake up before Terry. I made breakfast, freshened up, and waited for him to wake up, just like most of my mornings. When he emerged from his room, I greeted him warmly, as if yesterday’s events didn’t faze me.
“Are you going out early today?” he asked, assessing me for a moment before walking towards the kitchen on the other end of the room.
“Yes. And I might get home a little late since I quit my waitressing job,” I said, adding that last tidbit calmly.
“So, you’re going to look for another job again?” he asked, his voice slightly disoriented from chewing his food.
“Maybe. I haven’t received any responses from the companies I’ve applied to earlier this week. I’ll wait some more before I start looking again.”
“Oh. I remember Andrew telling me about this work that he needed some help with. I could talk to him about it if you’re interested,” Terry offered as he nibbled the bread he was holding.
“Tell me what the job is first and if I like it, we can talk more from there,” I countered, smirking at him mischievously. I wasn’t going to fall for another job offer from him. Besides, I am barely staying afloat and my job at the club was hanging in the balance.
After Terry finished his meal, I cleaned up and left. When I arrived at the hospital, I noticed there weren’t much people around. My guess was because it was past rush hour by then, which was usually at nine in the morning — unless work started out late.
When I reached the hospital, the attending nurse was slightly shocked that I arrived earlier than usual. But she didn’t say anything about it. Instead, she gave me a friendly greeting and told me about my father’s progress. After our little chat, I went to my father’s room and silently opened the door. I knew he was awake because I heard muffled noises. Thus, I didn’t have to sneak in.
“You’re early today,” he remarked when I was a foot away from him.
I smiled in greeting. “Surprise,” I stated sof
tly with enthusiasm, spreading my hands in exaggeration.
He smiled at my actions, but it faltered when he took in my overall appearance. “You look worn out. Did something happen at work?” he asked, his voice thick with worry and his eyebrows scrunched together.
“I’m fine, Dad. I am doing well at work,” I replied dismissively, not really in the mood to pretend.
“You know you can tell me everything, right? I will find out about it eventually,” he coaxed, his soft voice sounded less intimidating.
“I know.” I sighed as I took a seat. “Okay, I’ll spill,” I relented, giving him a sad look. “I quit my waitressing job,” I declared dejectedly.
“You quit? I thought you liked it,” he asked, raising his eyebrow in alarm.
“Well, I sort of exaggerated on the ‘like’ part,” I admitted reluctantly.
“I knew you didn’t like it. You know no matter how much you try to lie, I’ll always figure it out, you know?” he asked, smirking at my discomfort.
I snorted then grinned in return. “Yeah, I know,” I nodded in consent.
For the first time in months, I didn’t lie to him anymore. So, I told him everything that had happened. I didn’t hold back and just let go. I didn’t know that it would be a relief to get everything out.
“I’m so sorry for lying to you, Dad,” I said after a short pause.
“It’s okay, peanut. I get why you had to lie,” he said as he grabbed my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
For the rest of my visit, I gave my father an overview of my life within the past month. I told him about my work as a waitress and a bartender. And I also told him about why I got fired. That part was pretty hard to tell, but I was able to get it all out, especially since my dad smiled when I told him about how I made Mr. Mogul look like a naughty preschooler being punished. He looked pleased by my actions.
Around dinner, I finally excused myself and left. For the first time since I arrived, I felt relieved and free. Though I still have some debt to pay, I didn’t have any other burdens to carry. I didn’t understand why I lied to my father in the first place.
