Page 34 of For the Plot
Collins sent her a kiss. “Always when it comes to you, babe.”
I was not a fan of this feeling building in my chest, so I turned to Will instead. “What about you?”
“Am I also jealous over Nikki?” Will asked, brows furrowed. “Nah. I’m not the jealous type.”
“You know what? Never mind, I’m done with you all.” I deadpanned, walking away to take the next customer’s order as they all shouted apologies at me through their laughter, begging me to come back. I ignored them, flipping the finger over my shoulder instead.
The next few hours passed in a blur, the bar not slowing down until right before last call. The final customer didn't leave untill almost twenty minutes after we were supposed to be closed. Will, Collins, and Nikki had left a few hours ago, early like Collins had said. I’d had to actively not look at Nikki the entire time, and to be honest, I had no idea how successful I’d been.
Closing the door and locking it, I let my forehead thunk against the wood, my shoulders dropping on a sigh.
“You good?” Sasha asked.
“Yeah.” I straightened up and headed back to the bar to start cleaning up. It was just Sasha and me closing, which meant I knew at least that clean up wouldn’t be too bad. “Just tired.”
Sasha hummed in sympathy, patting my back as she walked past, “We’ll be out of here soon.” I didn't respond, but part of me was beginning to worry I wasn’t just tired in the moment, but tired of this job.
We worked in silence for a few moments before she spoke again. “Oh, James, I almost forgot. There’s actually something I wanted to talk with you about.”
“Yeah? What’s up?” I threw the words over my shoulder, wiping at a particularly sticky spot where one of the rowdy college kids had spilled a drink earlier.
“I’m thinking of taking a step back from the bar.” Her words came out casual, the clinking of glass behind me telling me she was just restocking behind the bar like she hadn’t just dropped a huge bomb on me.
“What? Why?” I tried to make my voice as composed as possible. I didn’t need to know any details about her personal life, but I was desperate to know how she could even think of leaving The Sleepy Siren. It had been her baby for years now. “You'd really sell The Sleepy Siren?”
“Oh fuck no.” The words came out on a laugh. “This baby is with me till the day I die. I just really wanna spend some more time with Lauren, and I can’t do that if I’m always here, stressing about paperwork or hopping on bar when we’re short-staffed like tonight.”
It was almost too perfect. Maybe, just maybe, this was the solution to all my problems. It was fate: I was getting tired of being so front-facing at the bar, right when Sasha wanted someone to take over as manager. I felt a bit of hope start swelling inside me.
“I’m thinking of hiring someone to be manager, letting me step back and be kind of a silent owner instead. Focus more on that photography side hustle with Lauren.” Sasha's wife Laurenowned a fledgling photography business, but it was a passion they both shared.
But once her words fully registered, my heart sank. “Wait,” I said, “So let me get this straight: you’re wanting to step back and you’re going to hire in a new manager to fill your position instead of promoting internally?”
“Yeah, I figured it would be best that way. I know how much you love tending, and you always say you never wanted to do the paperwork side of this thing, so I figured there’d be no way you were interested.” Sasha shrugged again, walking past me to grab another crate of bottles. "And no one else here is qualified enough to take over as manager."
“Right,” I responded, my voice wooden. I forgot how much of this crisis about my job had been internal. I hadn’t told Sasha anything about how I’d been feeling, so of course she wouldn’t know.
The words, the ask, were stuck in my throat. I hated myself for not being able to just ask for what I wanted. I’d never wanted to ask for anything as a kid, didn’t want to make my mom’s life any harder than it was. It was just easier to stay quiet, to be content with what I had rather than rock the already precarious boat.
“I still haven’t decided anything for sure though, so please keep this to yourself a little while longer.”
“Got it, boss,” I responded, saluting her as I did.
For now, I bottled up what I was feeling. A friend has once told me never to quit on a bad day, and today definitely qualified as a bad day. I needed to sit on it, because as much as I would love to move a little further away into the paperwork and less drink making, I wasn’t ready to put myself out there in that way yet.
21
Nikki
Middle of the Night - Loveless
Lastnightbeforegoingto bed, I told myself I wasgoingto sit down to write first thing in the morning. I knew I neededto. Iwantedto, even. Yet it was now almost five, I’d been up since noon, and what had I accomplished?
A big fat load of nothing. I'd woken up and opened my phone, telling myself I would scroll for five minutes just to catch up on all my notifications before getting to work. Yet here we were, four hours later, and I was still in bed scrolling. I’d only gotten out of bed to go to the bathroom and then immediately got back in. Then I’d told myself I would watch just one episode of my show before putting my phone down and turning the TV off again.
The worst part was that it wasn’t even like I was relaxed while I watched and scrolled. I felt on edge, my chest tight. My brain just kept screamingyou should be writingover and over again. And yet I couldn’t. Which just made me feel even worse.
I spent half the time I’d been sitting here doom scrolling justthinkingabout my book. Thinking about how I needed to write it. Wondering if something was broken inside me and like I’d never be able to write again. Worried that if Ididwrite it and publish it by some miracle, it would get shredded online like the last one. That people would hate the book and hate me, so why even bother in the first place?
