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Dread pooled in my stomach as I closed it behind me. Taking a deep breath, I turned to look at her. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her expression was tight, making the wrinkles in her cheeks more severe.
“Have a seat,” she said.
Every step I took felt heavy as I made my way to the faded blue sofa that sat across from her. Slowly, I lowered myself to sit, then stared up at her, waiting for whatever it was she had brought me in here for.
She stood up and let her hands fall to her sides. Lifting her chin a little higher, she cut her eyes toward me. “You’re a dependable employee,” she began. “I’ll admit, in the beginning, I was sure you would take advantage of my husband’s easygoing nature, but you never have, like many in the past did. I appreciate that. You work more hours than any other employee we have. Again, that is an asset most places of business do not have.”
She sighed heavily then, and the tiny bit of hope I’d suddenly gotten was dashed.
“I was even willing to overlook the fact that you are clearly pregnant.” She paused and looked at me pointedly, as if daring me to deny it. When I said nothing, she nodded once. “I’m right then. The bigger boobs, weight loss, looking pale after long shifts, getting sick out by the bushes before you come in to work. I know the signs.”
A cold sweat broke out on my skin. I didn’t know where she was going with this. She’d said she’d been willing to overlook it, but I was in her office for a reason.
“Today, a man walked into our pub, asking about you. Now that wouldn’t be an issue because, well, look at you. Many customers want to know when you’ll be working, where you are if you’re not here, but this man was different. You don’t run a place like this one in town and not know who to steer clear of. You recognize the kind you want as regulars and the kind that can cause problems. Liam Walsh is the president of The Judgment MC. Normally, that would be okay. The Judgment don’t cause issues here in Ocala, and although they own strip clubs and other ill repute businesses, they keep their hands clean for the most part.” She studied me. “How well do you know him?”
I shook my head. “Not very well.” My voice cracked. “He is dating my sister, but she and I aren’t close.”
Telling her he was the one who had gotten me pregnant wouldn’t help me save my job.
She leaned back against the desk again, sitting on the edge. “His daughter is married to the head of the Mafia. You don’t live in Ocala all your life and own a business without knowing that the Southern Mafia is based here under the guise of their wealth and racehorses. We want no connection to them. Not even a minuscule one. I’ve let someone go before for a much smaller connection to the Mafia than yours. You have family dating a man linked with the Devil himself. I can’t bring that to our doors. I’m sorry, Liberty, but I need you to get your things, and I’ll give you your last paycheck tonight. When you leave, do not walk back in those doors again. Not even as a customer.”
My throat felt as if I’d swallowed a ball of yarn and it was lodged inside. I was losing my job. This was real. All because of Liam. I wanted to argue my case and beg her to not do this, but I knew it would do no good.
I’d not known who Liam’s daughter was. We had never discussed it. Would this cause me problems? My baby?
Standing up, I struggled for words. I was in shock. Liam wasn’t just connected to the Mafia; he was linked by marriage.
Oh God. I swallowed.
“I … I didn’t know. I’m—I’ll go,” I stammered.
She nodded, and for once, in all the years I had worked here, I saw a touch of sympathy in her expression even if it was fleeting.
“If you can, stay clear of him. For your own good.”
I should never have thought my situation couldn’t get any worse. It had just spiraled to a new level of low.
“Okay,” I replied in a whisper.
She picked up something off her desk and held it out to me. “Tom wanted to add some extra to it.”
I glanced at the check to see that it was one hundred dollars more than it should be. Every little bit helped at this point.
“Thank you,” I said, the words feeling thick on my tongue.
Turning, I left the office and headed for the room where we kept our personal items while working. Both my suitcases and my purse were in there. I felt like I was functioning on autopilot. Distress, shock, fear all battled for first place, and I didn’t have the energy to fight them.
I rolled my luggage to the employee entrance, then glanced back once. It wasn’t that I loved my job, but this had been my one small shred of security I clung to, and now, I didn’t have it either. I shoved the door open with my shoulder and pulled my luggage out one at a time before letting it fall closed with a heavy thud behind me.
Not wanting to stop and linger, I kept walking, unsure if I was going to go all the way to the bus or to the nearest motel. I had a little over a hundred in cash from tips tucked in my pocket. I could use it to get a place for today and perhaps look for a job the rest of the afternoon.
“Are you pregnant?” a deep voice demanded.
Startled, I swung my gaze over to the parking lot to see Liam standing beside his Charger instead of his Harley, wearing a pair of dark sunglasses, his leather biker vest, and a pair of jeans. His jaw was clenched tight, and although I couldn’t see his eyes behind the glasses, I felt the threatening scowl directed at me.
“Leave me alone, Liam. You’ve done enough,” I said as my own anger began to burn inside my chest.
He was the reason this was happening.
