Page 14 of Waiting for Redemption

“I’m good, man. Busy as hell. What about you? I ran into your brother the other day, said you got discharged from a back injury? That fucking sucks man, I’m so sorry.”

It does fucking suck, so why the hell would you bring it up, asshole?

“Umm, yeah. I, uh, got back a little while ago. Been working at a buddy’s bar but I’m looking for somewhere a little more permanent to land,” I answer vaguely. “Actually, one of the places I’m waiting to hear back from is your department.” I nod to the Nashville Fire Department logo on his T-shirt. “But I figured with the holidays and all it may be a minute.” An uneasy look washes over him, and though he tries to cover it quickly I still notice.

“Yeah, maybe so.” His tone and body language change immediately, a dead giveaway for when someone’s lying.

“What?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, looking confused.

“There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?” I press. He looks around, trying to avoid eye contact before rubbing his hand along the back of his neck.

The universal sign for bad news.

He lets out a sigh, giving me the same look of pity I seem to be getting from everyone these days. “Look man, you didn’t hear it from me, but I saw your application come through, andIwas excited about it, honestly. But… I heard the chief talking and he said he’s worried about the back injury and the job being too strenuous so soon after your discharge. I think he just doesn't want to risk you getting hurt again. I’m sorry man. I really am.”

“Yeah, I get it. Thanks for letting me know,” I say, trying not to let the rage that’s fighting to get out become too apparent through my expression.

“Rodgers,” the waitress behind the bar calls out with a to-go bag in her hands.

“I better get going. It was good to see you, Tank. Something will work out soon, don’t sweat it, man. Yeah?” He claps me on the shoulder, and all I want to do for a moment is break his arm.

I don’t need his fucking pity or his empty words of encouragement because what the hell does he know about how things will work out formy life.I manage to nod and force the smallest hint of a smile to appear on my lips before he turns and walks out the door. In almost perfect unison, the bell above the door to the pub rings at the same time as the reminder on my phone.

Work. 15 minutes.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

I wasn’t missing itthatmuch.

* * *

Ever since my little encounter with Ruby in the bathroom the other day things have been quieter than usual between us, and now I’m worried I overstepped. She didn’t seem upset by it, but she’s almost as hard to read as I assume I am some days—the girl has a poker face you could take to the bank. As if my morning didn’t start off bad enough after running into Rodgers, Marco is being especially annoying today. If he drops one more cup into the bus bin with the force he’s been using since the beginning of his shift, I might just lock him in the walk-in freezer. Maybe if his hands are too frozen to use, I won’t have to listen to him throwing shit around all afternoon.

“Hey man, I think that lady is undressing you with her eyes.” Marco bumps my shoulder, nodding discreetly to the other end of the bar. I glance in that direction to see a woman—who looks like she needs a lot less gin martini and a whole lot of Jesus—looking at me in a way that leaves no room for interpretation.

“Maybe I’ll hand you over instead and solve two of my problems at once,” I threaten, giving him an unamused stare.

“Sheesh, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?” he teases, pushing the door open to take the bus bin into the kitchen.

The fucking universe, that’s who.

“I’d pay all the money in my wallet to see you pair those two up,” Ruby’s voice chimes in from her place at the sales terminal.

“I’d pay all the money inmywallet for you to send him home,” I fire back.

“Justtoday, or indefinitely?” I glance over at her and see a smirk on her face that gives me a weird feeling in my chest. Like a calming effect on my otherwise rage-infested soul.

“Today, I don’t have a preference,” I scoff, a look of concern appearing on her once playful features.

Ding.

“Sorry. Forgot to turn that off,” I say, hearing my phone go off inside my pocket.

When I grab it to silence it, I notice two new emails have come in,bothwith application rejections. My grip tightens so hard I think I may shatter my screen. I rip the towel from my shoulder, slamming it down on the counter so loud it grabs the attention of everyone seated at the bar. I turn to push open the kitchen door just as Marco is walking back through it, causing me to absentmindedly shove him out of my way.

“What the hell man?” Marco yells as he lands on his ass on the bar floor.

---