AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I cast her a sidelong look.
“You think?” I answered coolly.
The cashier wasn’t listening to me, her eyes glued to the executives, saliva almost dripping from her jowls. “You think I should post a pic of them? We’re never going to get a chance like this again.”
I frowned. Was I the only one who didn’t know what a big deal these guys were? I needed to get out more.
Not that it would make a bit of difference to me if I knew about them,I reminded myself again.
Catrine slyly pulled her phone out of her back pocket, scanning the area for our manager, Drew.
“If you want to get your ass fired,” I replied, turning toward the storeroom. “Go for it.”
I didn’t want any part of it.
“Sandra won’t fire me. She’ll be jelly she wasn’t here to see them herself,” Catrine chirped. “This is good publicity.”
I didn’t bother responding. The fascination with the rich and famous would always be a mystery to me. Unless that fame was somehow going to pay my never-ending influx of bills, I had no interest in what others were doing with money I would never see in my lifetime. I didn’t care about Silverpiece any more than I did about any other corporation—even if their founders were much more attractive.
My phone vibrated as I entered the backroom, and I glanced over my shoulder to ensure the manager wasn’t nearby. I wasn’t supposed to be using my phone during my shift, and unlike some of my co-workers, I tended to respect that rule, but it was right in reach. Grabbing for it out of my locker, I glanced at the notification and paled, wishing I’d waited until after my shift. I should have known that it wasn’t good news.
Still waiting for your response to the rent increase, Mylee. If I don’t have your answer by this weekend, I’ll assume you’re out by next month.
The wind knocked out of my lungs, and I dropped the phone back in my purse, my heart hammering in my chest as I secured my belongings again.
How the hell was I supposed to afford an extra six hundred bucks a month? How was this even legal?
But admitting I couldn’t afford it meant telling my landlord, which meant officially giving notice, which meant finding a new place, which meant getting first, last, and security together.
I was royally and totally screwed. No matter how much I worked between now and then, even if I picked up a side gig, I would never be able to scrape up enough.
I was going to end up living in O’Hare or in one of the tent cities.
My gut twisted, and my hands went slick with sweat. It wasn’t a delusion. It was the next step for me. I was in real trouble without any options for salvation. I didn’t have a mommy’s basement like Zander or a boyfriend like Catrine. There was no rich uncle to borrow cash from.
What the hell am I going to do?
“Hey, it’s getting busy out here!” Zander yelled from the front. “You hiding back there?”
Steeling myself against a mini-breakdown, I grabbed the stack of medium cups I’d come to replenish and headed back out toward the front to do my job. A panic attack never solved any problem, so I needed to redirect my thoughts before I went down that path. In the end, I would still be left to pick myself up and deal with it. I just had to put my nose to the grindstone and keep working—and praying. Maybe an asteroid would hit the earth later on in the afternoon and solve all my problems. Wouldn’t that be nice?
CHAPTER2
Mylee
Zander hadn’t been kidding. In the few short minutes I’d been in the back, the café had exploded with patrons, but that was the nature of the business. It could get packed at the drop of a dime when we least expected it.
I jumped back on coffee orders, my view of the Silverpiece princes blocked by the throng of customers who lined the busy shop.
Order after order popped up through the machine, and I found my groove, ignoring the knot of despair that had formed in my stomach after reading the text on my phone until finally, blissfully, the numbness settled in, and I blotted out my personal troubles. Work was always good at blocking out everything else.
I’d grown good at this apathy over the years, stuffing down the stress until it became a dull throb, manageable in a fog from somewhere removed. I would have to get back to my landlord tonight, let her know I was leaving the crappy studio apartment in Washington Park that wasn’t even worth six hundred dollars on its own, never mind a six hundred dollar rent increase. Again, I marveled at the legality of it, but refused to succumb to the anger bubbling inside me. It was useless. There wasn’t a damn thing anyone in my position could do about it.
After forty-five minutes, the rush began to die down, and I finally took a breath, reaching for my metal water bottle for a long sip, the cold liquid filtering down my windpipe.
When I snatched another order from the machine, a loud voice caught my attention before I could start on the iced coffee on the paper order.
“…get away with this!” the man boomed.
