AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Renee leaned forward. “All I gotta say is thank you for making my sister so happy. She deserves to be happy.”
He grasped my hand. “Well, we’re even then, because she makes me happy. Very happy.”
“OMG, I literally love you two,” Nicky said.
We four ended up discussing me and Ryan’s YouTube videos and not much else as we ate our food. It was a lively discussion, so I hadn’t noticed the table of ladies who’d evidently been watching us until all three of them approached the table, and one of them said, “Um, we were just sitting over there trying to figure out if you were really 4C Angie, and then we saw him and we knew it was you. Can we get a picture with you, with both of you?”
Ryan’s eyebrows flew up. “Me, too?”
“Yeah!” another of the ladies said. “We love both of you. We were just saying how cute 4C Angie and Ryan are together.”
He looked at me. I hadn’t mentioned to him that I included his first name in the hair-washing video’s description. I’d simply introduced him as my boyfriend in the first video. I’d said his name in the tag video, but he knew it wasn’t up yet.
“You two really should do a Couples Tag,” the third girl said.
“We did last night. Baby’s got to edit it,” Ryan informed them.
“Awwww, he called her baby,” all three women gushed.
Ryan shrugged. “That’s what she is. My baby.”
We took pictures with them, and after we reclaimed our seats, Renee asked, “So how does it feel to be a YouTube star, Ryan?”
He shook his head. “I’m the costar, she’s the star, and I’m cool with it. Just as long as I can be with your sister, I’m good with whatever.”
Nicky smiled and looked at me. “I want one just like him.”
Renee said, “Hell…me, too.”
32
I fucked up. I mean, I seriously fucked up. I’d just finished getting reamed by my direct supervisor for making a rookie, first-year-on-the job mistake. I knew my boss was an ass, had seen him unleash on plenty of people before, but not me. Not that I didn’t deserve it. I sighed, rested my elbows on my desk, and squeezed my forehead. I didn’t do shit like this. Ever. But the fact remained that I did do it, and sitting before me was the evidence. Crammed into my office was box after box of substandard linens, towels, glassware, and travel-sized hygiene products.
Audrey, the franchisee, had opted to purchase the items from a vendor other than the one that usually provided them to Sable Inns and Suites franchises, the company we had an exclusive contract with to provide these items. I knew why she did it, because it was cheaper to go through the other vendor. A lot of franchisees tried stuff like that to cut costs. That was why I was there. That was my job, to oversee everything from purchase orders to staff hiring to ensure shit like this didn’t happen.
But it happened, and on my watch.
Shit.
I had looked over the order before she submitted it and somehow not paid attention to the vendor. When she signed the contract, the one I went over with her line by fucking line in my office in Houston, I made it clear to her that it was a must to use Sable Inc.’s partner vendors. The CEO was adamant about that, very nearly obsessive about it, because the company that provided our hotels with these items was black-owned, and he had made it his mission to support other black-owned businesses. So I made all of that crystal clear to her, thinking, assuming she would adhere to the rules she’d signed in agreement of. I thought and assumed wrong, and got my ass handed to me because of it.
But the fact that she’d ordered this bullshit wasn’t the worst of it. I personally assisted her with making arrangements to return the items, and I got on my computer and ordered them from the correct company for her, but it would be two weeks before they could fulfill the order. Two damn weeks, which meant the opening of the hotel would be delayed for two weeks, which made an oversight that I might have been able to conceal from my boss one I was forced to report.
I sat up and fell against the back of my chair, closing my eyes as my ears rang from my boss’s words. He was pissed, and rightfully so, asking me if maybe I needed to be replaced, if I was tired or maybe distracted, and then his ass took things too far when he said, “Maybe your YouTube filming schedule is hampering your ability to do your job.”
That pissed me off, so despite the fact that I was on thin ice, I said, “Are you telling me what I can and can’t do with my free time?”
“No!” he shouted, making me pull the phone from my ear. “What I’m telling you is until the hotel is up and running, you don’t have any free time!”
And then his ass hung up on me. So there I sat, two hours after the time I’d usually get off work, staring at boxes, rehashing the conversation, and trying to deny the truth.
I was distracted.
Very distracted.
But the problem was, I didn’t want to stop being distracted. I didn’t want to spend more time working and less time with Angela. I didn’t want to stop making videos with her. I liked my life as it was, but I also didn’t want to lose my job.
I grabbed my keys and stood, glancing around the office before leaving, realizing that sitting there giving myself a headache was not going to fix anything.
