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When the door that leads to Tony’s office opens, we all turn to stare. Stepping out, he holds it open, and an attractive woman in an expensive suit and impressively high heels with red soles follows him out.
I wait for more people to arrive. For the dodgy drug dealer, or the sketchy business man, but the door closes behind them without anyone else making an appearance.
“Hey everyone, thanks for coming. This is Eliza Dubont, she has some information that the new owners have asked her to share with you all,” Tony says, gesturing to the woman who steps forward and clears her throat.
“As Mr. Burrows mentioned, my name is Eliza Dubont, I am a lawyer working for Chatsworth, Highbury, and Dubont. I have been asked to come here today to act as a proxy for my client who has recently purchased this business and the property it’s housed in. It is my understanding that Mr. Burrows has informed all of you about the sale of the business, and notified you all that while the new owners have agreed to retain all of the kitchen staff, they will not be requiring the services of some of the bar and wait staff. We have looked at time in employment, salary and working hours, and decided which staff will be retained and which of you will unfortunately no longer be required. An email has been sent to the email address you provided when you applied for your positions, with details of either your new employment contract, or your notification of termination. Thank you for your time.”
With that, she turns, slides her purse over her arm and leaves. All around me, people pull out their cells and check their emails, while I stand and watch, cursing the junkie assholes who stole my piece of shit phone. Not that I could have checked my email even if I’d had it, because my prepaid data ran out yesterday morning when I was looking for a new apartment.
“So?” Raul asks, appearing at my side.
“My cell was stolen,” I tell him as I glance around the room, watching elation on some faces, and heartbreak on others.
“Here, use mine,” he offers, pushing his cell under my nose.
Reaching out, I take it from him and stare down at it, until he nudges my arm and I tap at the screen, opening up the web page and logging in.
I know even before I open the email what it’s going to say. The feeling of overwhelming helplessness washing over me as I click into it and scan the words.
Unfortunately, your services will no longer be required. We wish you all the best in your future endeavors.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“No,” Raul hisses, taking the cell from my hands and rereading the email. “I’ll speak to Tony; I’ll get you a job in the kitchen or something.”
“Tony isn’t the boss anymore,” I say sadly. “It’s fine, I’ll find something else.”
“I can put in a good word for you at the cleaning firm, they’re always looking for more people. Pay’s not great, but it’s something.”
“Thanks, Raul,” I say, turning and pushing up onto my tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Sighing, I offer him as much of a smile as I can muster, then walk over to Tony.
“Hey Tony,” I call, standing in front of him. “I guess I need to pick up my last check.”
“They canned you?” he asks, eyes wide in surprise.
“Yep.” I shrug, refusing to show how devastated I actually am.
“Wow, I didn’t see that coming. I told them you were one of my best. Always on time, always willing to work extra hours and cover shifts. Geez, I’m sorry, kid.” Reaching out, he pats my shoulder. “I’m looking for a new place to buy, why don’t you come and work for me when I find something? I’d be happy to have you.”
“Sure,” I say, noncommittally.
“Checks will be ready tomorrow. Swing by after lunch and I’ll have it waiting for you. Wow, I’m just… I’m really sorry, Ali.”
“Me too.” Exhaling, I blink back anger and impotent tears. “See you tomorrow.”
I deliberately don’t turn around and look at Raul again before I go. If I do, I know I’ll cry and I refuse to cry over this. I didn’t cry when my mom overdosed. I didn’t cry the day Aunt Darla kicked me out. I didn’t cry when I spent weeks on the street alone and terrified. So, I won’t cry now.
Head up, shoulders back, I stride out of the door and onto the sidewalk. Blinded by the bright daylight, I blink rapidly, forcing my eyes to adjust. Movement draws my attention and I look up and see a paper flier taped to a pole right in front of me, like it was placed just for me to find. It wasn’t there before I got here, I’d have seen it. Looking around I spot several more bright-white flyers, just like this one, taped to fences, walls, and anything they could find up and down the street in both directions.
Compelled by fate or curiosity, I step forward and I rip the paper down. It takes me a moment to process the words, then a giggle bursts free from my mouth. It’s not a noise I usually make, but Jesus, what are the chances that someone would have walked past the bar I worked at until ten minutes ago, hanging roommate wanted flyers? I mean, what are the chances?
Roommate wanted.
Searching for a clean, tidy, quiet roommate to share four bed, two bath loft.
Fully furnished, first and last month deposit required.
Call Avery for more details.
