Page 20 of Submitting to Them
“Like what?An equal?You’re not doing anything, and I am.”
He marches forward and takes the tray from my hands.If I were to try to hang onto it, everything would probably spill, and I’m not risking losing all of this food to the floor.
“Here,” he says, giving me a simpering smile.“Now you’re not busy, and I am.Go clean the bathrooms like a good little maid.”
Fuck him.Fuck him in his stupid smiling face.
My cheeks are blazing with anger, but I turn on my heel and march to the bathroom.I look around for a mess, but there really isn’t one.A little bit of piss on the floor, which I can easily wipe up with a few paper towels, and an empty soap dispenser.Big fucking deal.Why couldn’t he handle that?
After dealing with the “mess” and washing my hands thoroughly, I return to the dining room.Unfortunately, what just happened isn’t new.For the past few days, Nicholas has been insufferable as our temporary manager, making me wonder if I shouldn’t quit, after all.
The rest of the evening passes quickly, and Natasha comes in for her shift, toward the end of mine.After one look at my resting pissed-at-Nicholas face, she pulls me aside.
“What’s going on?”
“Ugh.The usual.Nicholas is being a twatnugget.”
She cackles.“I’m saving that for later use.”
“You’re welcome.”I sigh and lean into her.
“Do you think it’s time to blow this popsicle stand?”
“You mean quit Bartleby’s?”I ask.
She nods.“There are other good places to work.Tomorrow, I’m interviewing at Chez Michel.”
“You landed an interview?”I exclaim.“Congrats!Good for you!”
Chez Michel is a nice restaurant in Dorado Heights.It’s right on Caro.Servers get to keep tips there, and the hourly wage is above minimum.They’re notoriously picky about even giving out interviews, and the servers there are professional servers—not tired college drop-outs who can’t get anything better.
“You should try for a position there, too,” she says.“We don’t have to stay in Bellefleur our whole lives, you know?”
“But what about Kevin?”I ask.“I don’t want to leave him high and dry.”
“He might not come back,” Natasha whispers.
“What?”
“The owner is thinking of selling.If he does, Kevin’s going to retire.”
I don’t bother asking Natasha how she knows this—she always seems to know what’s going on before I do.I rest a hip on the counter, absorbing this information.I can’t imagine remaining here at Bartleby’s with Nicholas lording his managerial status over the rest of us.
As if thinking of the devil made him appear, Nicholas ambles over.“We don’t have time for gossiping, ladies.Time to get to work.”
I bite back my retort.It’s not worth it.Yeah, I’m thinking of quitting, but not immediately.I need a plan, first.
And my plan can’t be falling back on my rich boyfriends, can it?Despite the fact they’ve offered multiple times to let me live with one of them?
What’s the worst that could happen if I moved?I’d miss Mrs.Dali, but she’s abdicated her status as apartment manager so she can travel.She’s been in Florida for the past two weeks, and after that, she’ll go to Greece.
I’d be dependent on Kingston and Sebastian for my housing.I don’t love that idea, either.I’d pay them rent, but it wouldn’t even be two percent of what their places cost, I’m sure.
Beyond that question, am I ready for such a big step in our relationship?I love them.They love me.Right now.But forever?We first got together in the middle of January.Now it’s mid-March.This seems awfully fast.
It also seems right.
But maybe that’s just my bank account talking, and my annoyance with Nicholas.I don’t want to be a gold digger.I don’t want or need a sugar daddy.
