Page 89 of The Demons We Hide

For a moment, I expect her to deny that anything could be going on. It’s written all over her face, the need to hide it. Putting the cigarette holder back to her mouth, she sucks in and then immediately coughs when she does it too quickly. I jump up from my seat and cross around the desk, reaching for her shoulder as she shudders and hacks her way through the unfortunate inhalation.

When the coughing starts to ease up, I hurry over to the corner of her over-packed office with papers and knick-knacks taking up residence on every available surface. I grab a paper cup above the water jug in the corner and press the lever to pour out about half of it before bringing it back to her. Setting down her cigarette holder, she takes the cup and gulps down several mouthfuls.

“You’re starting to freak me out,” I tell her honestly as I crouch next to her plush chair. “Am I in trouble?”

She coughs once more before shaking her head and setting the cup on the surface in front of her. One of her hands presses to her forehead while the other remains gripping the edge of the desk. Careful not to touch her, I ease up from my crouch and look down at the woman before me.

Despite her stature, Ma-Ri has never struck me as a particularly fragile or weak woman. She’s whip smart and fucking terrifying on a good day. I suppose she has to be in order to have immigrated from overseas and set up shop here with her own club. Patience isn’t one of my strong suits, but of all the women I respect, Ma-Ri is right up there with Principal Long. So, I suck it up and retake my seat and wait for her to tell me the real reason why she asked me into her office.

After a moment of tense silence, Ma-Ri shakily opens one of the drawers in her desk again. She doesn’t say a word as she pulls out what appears to be a checkbook and snatches a pen from where it rolls beneath one of the copious amounts of books and folders and binders stationed on top of her desk. It takes everything in me not to try and crane my neck to see what she’s writing, but I don’t need to wonder for long.

She finishes scribbling something across the first page and then rips it free. Her somewhat wrinkled hands grip the slip of paper tightly, and a strange sort of dread sinks into the bottom of my stomach.

“Ma-Ri?”

At the sound of my voice, she jolts, and then she shoves the check towards me without looking at me. “This is your severance pay,” she says.

“Severance pay?” I repeat the words as she pushes the paper into my hand. “I don’t understand.”

“Your presence is no longer required at the Dionysus Lounge, but I appreciate all of the hard work that you’ve put in here”—

“You’re firing me?”

Ma-Ri keeps talking as if I haven’t spoken. “If you need a recommendation for another place of employment…” She winces. “Well, I’m sure you’ll want to make sure that you put down something more appropriate for a new position.”

My fingers are numb where they grip the paper check. I don’t even look down to see how much she’s given me. “Did I do something wrong? Did I insult a client?” I ask.

“Guest.” The correction is automatic as it comes from her lips. Then she shakes her head, still not looking at me. “No, no, of course not. I … simply think that your employment here needs to come to a natural end. You’re a high school student and you need?—”

“So is Madison!” I snap. “Is she being fired too?”

Ma-Ri doesn’t answer me for a long moment. “Who I decide to keep employed and who I decide to let go is none of your concern,” she murmurs quietly. Far too subdued for the woman I know she is.

Finally, I look down at the check in my hand and what I see makes my eyes widen. “What the fuck?” I slap the paper down on her desk as if the damn thing will scorch me if I keep it any longer. “This isn’t severance pay,” I snap. “This is a fucking…” I don’t know what it is, but no employer would ever offer a waitress five thousand dollars. It’s fucking hush money is what it is. For what, though?

Adrenaline courses through my veins at lightning speed. I begin to tremble. Just a little at first and then harder as I reach up, gripping my hair and shoving it back out of my face. I can’t understand. Why would she fire me? Why now?

I stare at the woman across from me who hasn’t managed to even look me in the eye once since she wrote the damn check. “Look at me,” I bark.

She jolts and then, slowly, infinitely slowly she lifts her gaze to mine. There’s no anger in her expression. It’s filled with resoluteness, with defeat and worse… with fear.

My shoulders slump and I take a step back, away from her and the desk, shaking my head.

“Take the money, Juliet,” Ma-Ri orders, her voice a mere ghost of its usual volume.

I can’t, though. Ma-Ri is an intelligent woman, and I know her club does good business, but she can’t afford to be handing out five thousand dollar severance checks. I take another step back.

“Juliet.” Her tone rises a bit, a warning.

I shake my head. “If you want to give me something that’s more appropriate for a cocktail waitress that’s only worked for you for a few months, I’ll take it, but that…” I gesture to the check I left on her desk. “I won’t take that. I respect you, Ma-Ri. That earns you the right to my silence far more than your money ever will.”

35

JULIET

An odd sort of numbness has taken over my body as I walk out of the Dionysus Lounge. It reminds me of the night of my eighteenth birthday. All of the emotions that had overwhelmed me after finding Bran and Avery in bed together. Showing up at home just in time to watch my dad be led away in handcuffs. And then there'd been my mom...

Even now as I stride towards the tinted SUV waiting at the back of the parking lot, I can still picture her tear-streaked face. As if that wasn't bad enough, Morpheus had been there. Perfect Morpheus Calloway. Silverwood's savior. My mother's savior. My dad's best friend.

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