Page 2 of Don't Bet On It
Grin and bear it? This guy was only in his fifties and acted like a crotchety neighbor who was willing to shoot people to get them off his lawn and thought respect for women was something newfangled that shouldn’t actually exist.
“Listen,” I gritted out, my temper getting the better of me.
“No, you listen.” Carlton’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “You cannot ruin a man’s life—a sexual harassment complaint would follow Jay up and down the Strip for years—because he put his hand on your back.”
“He was being obnoxious!” I exclaimed.
“Are you saying you’re never obnoxious? Also, that’s subjective. Whenever I’ve interacted with the boy, he’s been nothing but charming. He has a bright future in front of him, if you ask me. He’s working his way through a business degree. He has his eyes on something big down the line.”
And I didn’t. That was what he was saying. I was thirty-one and still working as a server on the Strip. I’d been moving between businesses for years at this point. People deemed me “unambitious” and stuck me in the lowest jobs they could find, figuring I would swallow my pride because I had bills to pay. And that was true. I did have bills to pay. I wasn’t going to put up with being disrespected to pay those bills, however.
“So, basically you’re saying that you don’t believe me and you’re going to side with Jay,” I surmised.
Carlton shrugged. “You have no proof.”
“How am I supposed to get proof of all the gross stuff he’s said to me over the past few months?” I demanded, my temper threatening to break loose like a herd of bulls. “Should I carry my phone with me everywhere and record him?”
“Certainly not,” Carlton replied. “It’s illegal to record somebody without their knowledge. Did you learn nothing from that whole President Clinton debacle?”
I had no idea what he was talking about. I didn’t care to know about it either. “What’s my punishment?” I demanded, resigned to my fate. Would he screw with my hours? Would he cut them? Would he suspend me for a week and make it impossible for me to pay my rent? There were so many options to choose from.
“You’re not being punished.”
Hope flooded my chest. Maybe Carlton wasn’t as bad as I believed. Maybe he knew Jay was guilty but there really was nothing he could do about it. Maybe he valued my contribution to the business so much he was going to make it work.
“I believe it’s best for you to find employment elsewhere,” Carlton continued, causing me to deflate like a balloon. “As much as we appreciate your contribution to the company over the past two months?—”
“Eight months,” I barked. “I’ve been working here for eight months, and I left a good job to come here in the first place.”
“Really?” Confusion knitted Carlton’s eyebrows. “I didn’t realize it had been that long.”
This time, there was no hope to be found. It was over. We both knew it.
“Either way, your presence at Purple Orchid is no longer required,” he said. “I’ll issue you a check for two weeks of severance. You’ll probably not want to use us for a reference.” He smiled as if he’d delivered good news. “Have a nice day.”
I stared at him for what felt like a really long time but was probably only two or three seconds. It felt like a lifetime, however.
Then I completely lost my temper and punched him too. Internally, I scolded myself. I should’ve waited until after he cut the severance check.
Oh, well, it was too late now. I made sure to put my full weight into the punch. He had it coming.
“YOU PUNCHED HIM?”
My best friend, Olivia Stone, cringed, her shoulders dropping. She was tucked in tight against her husband Zach’s side at a Stone Casino & Resort bar. It was one of his sportsbars—I could never keep track of them so couldn’t remember this one’s name—and there were raucous frat boys cheering basketball and hockey games on the televisions near the bar. Zach had secured a private booth for us in the corner. It was still loud.
I shrugged in response. “He had it coming.” I took a long swig of my drink, one of those fifteen-dollar ones I couldn’t afford, but Zach had already made it clear he was picking up the tab this evening.
He had a craft beer in front of him but was drinking it slowly. Olivia was drinking a green tea. She was four months pregnant—and glowing—which meant that too much caffeine and any alcohol were off the table. That was too bad because I could’ve really used a drinking buddy tonight.
I was happy for her. She had gotten everything she’d ever wanted, including a husband who adored her and an opulent lifestyle where she didn’t have to worry about being homeless from month to month. She’d been just like me at one time, though. In fact, she’d been “downsized” from her accounting job right before she and Zach got married. In truth, she’d discovered the owner’s son had been embezzling money and had been fired for it right before she needed expensive dental work that she couldn’t pay for without insurance. She’d been looking down the barrel of a very scary future … and then Zach had swooped in.
He’d been best friends with Olivia’s brother Rex since they were kids. Rex had suggested a marriage of convenience. Zach needed his father to get off his back about dating the “right” kind of women, and Olivia needed a place to stay and dental surgery. Zach married her, put her on his insurance, and moved her into his casino penthouse. It was supposed to be a yearlong thing. They had, of course, fallen in love. Now, it was going to be a forever thing.
I wasn’t bitter about it. I told myself that over and over. And it was true. I wanted only good things for Olivia. She was the sort of friend you only got once in a lifetime. It was just that … it felt as if she had somehow skipped to the front of the line and I was still loitering near the back. She got the best seats at restaurants, and if I was even allowed inside, I was relegated to sitting near the bathroom. It was frustrating. What was even more frustrating was that I was jealous. How could I be jealous of my best friend? She’d suffered too. Things had simply worked out for her. I still had a chance. They could work out for me.
Maybe.
What was I saying again?
