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Neither of them hears me. As I call out to them a little louder, one of them turns his head towards me, his eyebrows furrowed. He finishes serving a drink and approaches me.
“What can I get you?” he asks me as the small bulbs above the bar light up his pierced eyebrow.
I shake my head and look serious. “I saw the job offer, and I’m here to apply.”
He frowns his thick, dark eyebrows then purses his lips. “You want to work here?”
He looks incredulous as he quickly ogles me. His eyes land on my chest, hidden under a black T-shirt. It doesn’t seem to really convince him. He then observes my red hair and continues, “We’re looking for a waitress.”
I put my two hands flat on the counter and lean towards him. “And why do you think I’m here?”
I stop myself from rolling my eyes and sighing. He seems to be slowly relaxing. As he lets out a soft laugh, the customers get impatient beside us.
“Wait for me here, I’ll be right back,” he says, leaving me by the counter.
During the next few minutes, I take another look at the crowd. A girl sits down on the arm of an armchair and grabs her glass. I recognize her. It’s Yeleen, the student I met this afternoon.
I hesitate to say hello. In reality, I don’t really know her.
“Let’s go,” says the barman I spoke to earlier.
He places himself in front of me and invites me to follow him. I walk along the bar with him, my steps following his.
“What’s your name?” he asks me when we enter a narrow corridor at the other end of the small bar.
“Iris. What’s yours?”
“I’m Buck,” he says, stopping to offer me his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Buck,” I reply, quickly grasping his palm.
“Billy will see you now,” he announces when we arrive at a closed door.
I nod and let him knock on the wood.
“Come in,” answers a demanding and rather husky voice from the other side of the door.
Buck stares me straight in the eye as I wonder if it was really a good idea to come here.
“It’s okay, Billy looks like a jerk, but he’s a big, soft bear.”
I nod without answering him, watching him walk away to the bar. I inhale once more. I can do it, I have the skills to do it. Besides, I have to do it to have the “financial resources.” When I am ready, when my past has no power over my future, I want my little sister back. Continuing my education will help the judge understand that I am stable now, that my life won’t go to hell. But until then, I have to rebuild myself.
I pull down the handle and enter the room. A man in his fifties is sitting behind a desk, his nose buried in a newspaper.
“Uh, hi,” I say after a few seconds of silence.
He raises his head, apparently displeased to have been disturbed. “Hello?”
“I’m Iris,” I announce in a voice that I hope sounds professional. “I saw the flyer you distributed around campus, and I’d like to apply for—”
“I’m not looking for a waitress,” he interrupts.
I frown, squinting my hazel eyes.
“But your flyer does say otherwise.”
Billy sighs and mutters into his mustache, running his hands through his graying hair. “You’re not the kind of waitress I’m looking for for my bar. You’re too childish.”
